I should also warn you that I'm very tired and grumpy today. I'm glad of the rain, of course, but the bus driver had the air conditioning cranked up to 11, to the point where I was afeared that if I fell asleep I'd never wake up.
But one thing this week I did enjoy was watching the Marc Warren version of Dracula. All I'd heard was that it was a campy piece of Hammer horror crud, to which I say: "You make that sound like a bad thing."
I wuved it, lots, especially the shadow play in the curtains, which evoked a scene from a Chris Lee fang fillum that gave me many a sleepless night as a child. Also, Marc Warren can act, which was a bit of a revelation. His old scrofulous count was unrecogniseable. And while I was so tired that I was actually confused at first about not remembering this or that bit from the book (starting out on an assumption that it was going to be a more or less faithful adaptation) I kinda got what they were trying to do, well, it was about as subtle as an early 80s AIDS ad, really, and pretty much on topic. Sex is bad, okay, got it. But it was still such a highly arch romp that I found myself vastly entertained in spite of any 'message'. It's been too long since I've had tortured and syphillitic young lords running amok in grand houses on my tv, I can tell you.
The other thing I enjoyed on the weekend were the comp tickets a dear friend dropped over for the Great Wall of China exhibit at the Powerhouse. This we liked (especially the Mongolian bow, as seen on tv - snerk). It was small, but had some really choice stuff from China: swords, scrolls, vases, arrows, belts, horsey regalia and dockets and chits. Lotsa dockets and chits. They were really big on the bureacracy and I was very bemused, having lived a life of dockets and chits myself. I miss dockets and chits. So long as you had the right docket all signed and dated, you knew your arse was fireproof. They also found room for 20thC tourist tatt (much to my delight) and some nice slide shows, but basically I just loved the weapons and the crockery. Oh yeah, and the clothes - there were complete outfits, too. Very stylin'.
So, small, but comprehensive collection of bitties. It's the sort of exhibit I'm used to and enjoy - just one sword to appreciate, but much easier than a whole room full which just makes my poor wee parochial head ache.
I also had to sit through a couple of hours of Mr Armitage, all in the name of quality control (must test and re-test the speedos scene for still-advanceability), and while I was at it, wallowed in the last episode of Robin Hood. I'd been looking forward to writing pages on this, but today is not the day, alas. But briefly, Robin is a bastard, Much actually saved the day, twice (not that any one noticed or cared, the poor wee boyo) and poor Guy was left standing at the altar (and I really wished I'd watched this before the Vicar of Dibley, because it was hard to keep a straight face, it really was).
Poor Guy. He's not bad, he's just misunderstood. I dunno, who is better or worse, Guy, who seems like a good man forced to do bad things to get by, or Robin, a lad with some serious issues and a mighty dark streak, not to mention textbook psychopathy, he seems to need to do good deeds to wash away his own sins? Ah, but why bother with that when there are pratfalls to be had. It really is like watching Blackadder without the humour, irony or biting social commentary. Ouch. If it wasn't for the pretty and the fact that with just a nip here and a snip there it could actually be good, I'd not bother about it so much. But, dammit, there's a good show in there, but it just can't get out.
So yeah, poor Much and Guy are left heartbroken, and the A-Team type ending was just so wtf, but it had its moments. Robin dumping on Much, poor ever faithful, long suffering Much, was still horrible to watch. And to think they started out arm in arm. The tragedy of Robin and Much, I suppose, though the way Robin treats Much, well, I just can't help but go to that sidekick episode of The Tick (which was entirely about bad boyfriends). I just can't understand why anyone would trust Robin if they saw the way he treated his so called best friend (ie, Marian, girlfriend, he's a right proper nogoodnik).
I think the main problem with Robin though is that it's a fine line between an interestingly flawed character and a complete and utter bastard, and even LOM stumbles on occassion so RH shouldn't even try it. It's just really hard to like anyone who can be so cruel and nasty, just because he was having a bad day. It was, well, less than heroic. And wtf was up with letting Allan and Will, who really did eff up, off scott free? I despair of the group dynamic, I really do.
At least the Sheriff takes Much seriously, which is something, I suppose.
And speaking of being dumped on and unappreciated (oh yeah, the 10 mins I had left to myself to write were solely devoted to the wee scruffy one)
I was very disappointed with myself last week and my inability to accept, with good grace, the nastiness, criticism and ingratitude and in one special case, extreme violence that met all my efforts to do right by folks, especially when I was so wretched and ill.
Well, I'm still wretched and ill and it's triple shifts (unpaid) all this week and apparently Mars is hovering in my sign, so if I accidentally on purpose tell anyone where to get off this week, they probably deserved it, anyway. But it is a failing, not being able to apologise for trying to be nice, especially when unappreciated.
Just as well I didn't get a chance to get online over the weekend (I only had 4am-7am on Sunday free, and it stormed and thundered all through my window of opportunity). I've got no time for damage control. i'll just stay low and say nothing, and apologise for other people's failings. Again. Like just now.
But never mind, Simm is having to dodge questions of slash, which amuses me greatly: John Simm: The time of his life
Oh yeah, since this upload is taking 4eva, D&P graced our screens on Friday night, with a 'plot' that bore precious little resemblance to the actual book, which I'd read quite recently so you can imagine all the harumping going on. Trust me, the books are brilliant. The tv show, very much less so. Though it was a lovely bit in the pub at the end (definitely think there's life in the why are British cops always like old married couples thesis). Foyle's War was an essay on the evils of biological/chemical warfare. Watched a bit of Spooks and New Tricks with the insom last night, but otherwise, busy, busy, busy. And today is a nightmare. If it isn't one lot of peasants with flaming torches at the gates, it's another.
Life on Planet Male
Getting the 1970s right (and wrong)
John Simm: The time of his life
Shameless writer's suicide battle
What are you laughing at?
As Shakespeare wouldn't like it (Troughton)
Baz as a Bard man
Love brings Finn and Barnesy together
Making a run for it
Ryan's single and smokin'
Ryan's star is smokin'
Who made King Cassel a dirty rascal?
The Unseen and Unexplained, Inching Closer to the Truth
Gay actors find Hollywoodn't
TV chief quits over terror scare
No sleep means no new brain cells
Canaletto in London
Police back on duty with Roxanne
Sorry, old chap, for being in the queue - or drunk
The Great Wall of China