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Holy Flying Circus: I never really got grabbed by the Pythons as much as some of my contemporaries; too much of their stuff seemed to be going for surrealism and the gross-out rather than comedy, a tendency which has since gone, I think, about as far as it can go (though I could be wrong). But I did enjoy Life Of Brian, as much for its take on some followers of Christianity as for its merciless lampooning of what I then saw as the "loony left" (remember, this was the year in which I voted Conservative, something I think I will be paying for till the day I die). And I did enjoy this very Pythonesque "re-imagining" of the events leading up to the TV "debate" in which the Bishop of Southwark and Malcolm Muggeridge faced Cleese and Palin, ostensibly to discuss the film, in reality to denigrate and belittle it. The portrayals of the Pythons themselves are variable, some much better than others. Darren Boyd tries valiantly with John Cleese (playing a version of his Basil Fawlty character, as he says in a brief insert), but lacks the suppressed rage that Cleese as Fawlty does so well; the voice is good, the mannerisms spot on, but the eyes don't have it, and the result comes across as slightly Martian. Charles Edwards as Palin, on the other hand, is so perfect that I had to rub my eyes a couple of times to be sure I wasn't actually looking at the man himself. I've seen some interesting responses to the show, doing a brief trawl online. One reviewer states that for the debate they actually used real footage, which is quite simply not true; another says that Michael Palin "wanted nothing to do with the production," in which case I'd very much like to know who that is playing his mum; it's not Edwards again, I know that. And several commenters to some reviews deny that there was any "furor" about the film at all. Um. I was alive then, and yes there was.
There were some very nice moments, and some that made me cringe a little. It's always nice to see Geoffrey McGivern, an actor I've been fond of since Hitch-Hiker's Guide, who here takes a variety of small parts with his usual quiet brilliance. And I liked the ending, though I doubt any Bishop in the last hundred and a bit years has ever actually said in so many words "You don't have to make your own mind up. The Church has spoken for you." Not in front of witnesses, anyway. Overall, I think it works as what it is; not a historical document, not an out-and-out fantasy, but a spinning of the straw of reality into something like comedy gold. Or at least very good silver.
Comic Strip Presents The Hunt For Tony Blair: another straw-into-gold effort, which suffers from saying things that needed to be said years ago, at a time when they have passed into the realm of that particular kind of factoid that one takes for granted must be true or false, depending on one's political standpoint. To me there is no doubt that Blair was a Tory from the word go, whose purpose (in which he and his friends succeeded) was to infiltrate and subvert the Labour Party, and to me there will always be a huge question mark over the sudden death of John Smith, but what's the point of saying so now? Water, as they say, under the bridge. It's quite nicely done, though, and Stephen Mangan as Blair does a good job given the fact that he is physically nothing like his subject.
The Fades: oh dear oh dear. Dismal, gritty, grotty, grey, hopeless and pointlessly nasty, all the things that British telly fantasy seems far too often to feel obliged to be. The best parts are the introductory recaps by Daniel Kaluuya as Mac, which are at least occasionally funny. We're watching it through to the end, but it lost me early on.
Also watching, and enjoying: Fringe, The Lost Girl, the Secret Circle, Haven and many more. The Golden Age of telly fantasy is still not yet over.
I'm reading Terry Pratchett's Snuff to the Countess at the moment. The latest Discworld offering is as funny, and as serious and thought-provoking, as ever (and that should not need to be said, but I'm sure I can't be the only one, knowing what is hanging over TP's head, who now reads every word with trepidation in case the first signs start to show through, and yes, I know it's stupid but I can't help it). As a reader, I'm noticing an increased tendency towards long and occasionally repetitive speeches, mainly by Vimes, which in a real conversation would be unlikely to go uninterrupted, but there are also some exquisite moments which reveal the depth of these characters, and the love their author feels for them.
In other news, Jan has been battling at least one bug of some description, the fleece jacket I mentioned in a previous post turns out to be mine, and there's still a week to go if you want to enter the Filk Of Human Kindness competition and win a physical CD of this, my newest album of songs, lovingly prepared by my own huge and ungainly hands.
There were some very nice moments, and some that made me cringe a little. It's always nice to see Geoffrey McGivern, an actor I've been fond of since Hitch-Hiker's Guide, who here takes a variety of small parts with his usual quiet brilliance. And I liked the ending, though I doubt any Bishop in the last hundred and a bit years has ever actually said in so many words "You don't have to make your own mind up. The Church has spoken for you." Not in front of witnesses, anyway. Overall, I think it works as what it is; not a historical document, not an out-and-out fantasy, but a spinning of the straw of reality into something like comedy gold. Or at least very good silver.
Comic Strip Presents The Hunt For Tony Blair: another straw-into-gold effort, which suffers from saying things that needed to be said years ago, at a time when they have passed into the realm of that particular kind of factoid that one takes for granted must be true or false, depending on one's political standpoint. To me there is no doubt that Blair was a Tory from the word go, whose purpose (in which he and his friends succeeded) was to infiltrate and subvert the Labour Party, and to me there will always be a huge question mark over the sudden death of John Smith, but what's the point of saying so now? Water, as they say, under the bridge. It's quite nicely done, though, and Stephen Mangan as Blair does a good job given the fact that he is physically nothing like his subject.
The Fades: oh dear oh dear. Dismal, gritty, grotty, grey, hopeless and pointlessly nasty, all the things that British telly fantasy seems far too often to feel obliged to be. The best parts are the introductory recaps by Daniel Kaluuya as Mac, which are at least occasionally funny. We're watching it through to the end, but it lost me early on.
Also watching, and enjoying: Fringe, The Lost Girl, the Secret Circle, Haven and many more. The Golden Age of telly fantasy is still not yet over.
I'm reading Terry Pratchett's Snuff to the Countess at the moment. The latest Discworld offering is as funny, and as serious and thought-provoking, as ever (and that should not need to be said, but I'm sure I can't be the only one, knowing what is hanging over TP's head, who now reads every word with trepidation in case the first signs start to show through, and yes, I know it's stupid but I can't help it). As a reader, I'm noticing an increased tendency towards long and occasionally repetitive speeches, mainly by Vimes, which in a real conversation would be unlikely to go uninterrupted, but there are also some exquisite moments which reveal the depth of these characters, and the love their author feels for them.
In other news, Jan has been battling at least one bug of some description, the fleece jacket I mentioned in a previous post turns out to be mine, and there's still a week to go if you want to enter the Filk Of Human Kindness competition and win a physical CD of this, my newest album of songs, lovingly prepared by my own huge and ungainly hands.
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Date: 2011-10-24 02:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-10-24 05:07 pm (UTC)