mockturtle (hellblazer06) wrote,

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remember, remember

Hey there, Sleepy Bo Bos, remember that deliciously traumatising book you sent me on men's 70s "fashion"? Well, I'm having definite flashbacks here. My eyes, my eyes!

But what I really want to talk about is Gunpowder, Treason and Plot. You just knew I was warming up for episode two, and once I'd made sure Dell Boy was just pissy, not broked, it was time for a nice hot cup of tea, a ginger biscuit, and a sea of drool (especially re chapter three of said dvd: wha-hey).

You'd probably be surprised to learn that GTP is just about the only dvd that never leaves my bedside table, even when that table gets moved about. I watched it when I came back from the UK, I watched it when I read 1492, I watched it when I had an Elizabethan fest, I watched it when the meta dragged me to James for a bit. I watched it when I was watching Rome and needed a Kev hit, and I watched it again when I was watching Strange and wallowing in everything Coyle. I watched it last year about two episodes into RH because I needed more of the lad, and yesterday it was also very much the case of needing a good long fix of the pretty blond boy.

And very, very pretty he was, too. And angsty. And muderous (though who hasn't wanted to throttle Emilia Fox at some point, and, frankly, why stop there?). And didn't he just wear it so well (when he was wearing clothes - smirk). Suits you, sir (and I couldn't say that about everyone, tho' ZOMG to Kev's big black badass outfit. Eat yer heart out, Guy).

Okay, so we've established that orange is so not my boy's colour, but here they had him in some nice pastels that brought up the blond something stunning and there was a black outfit, all too briefly, that was completely ZOMG (squeeee!). But what I loved most, aside from the scenes of romantic misfortune, was the scene where he gets his brother in the shite, but it's lit in a very painterly fashion and it's all about the big blue eyes. Why don't they shoot him like that on that other show? No excuses, imho.

And why don't they let him be that pretty. Yeah, I know. Not. The. Star. Got it. But it's not fair and I don't like it. But I digress, as always.

Basically, if you've not seen it, Jeff and Much want to blow up Percy and Hamish (and his little dog too, nae doubt) but it all goes a bit pearshaped, or not, depending on your point of view. I mean, normally I'd be tsk tsking, but Sam can be so damn sweetly earnest that he makes the loviest little mad bad terrorist you'll ever see on tv (mind you, Jeff and Much as badass terrorists is a bit of a stretch, imho - just too much tv baggage, alas).

On a slightly more serious note, another reason I wanted to watch it again, aside from a desperate need for a cheap and necessary perve (I had to remind myself that he does, in fact, scrub up nice, for the fic), was watching something else recently that mentioned The Plot and how the plan to destroy central London with a big boom destroyed all and any sympathy to the cause in the general populace and resulted in Catholics being regarded with suspicion and fear ever since (except now, apprently, because of EU immigration, the UK is Catholic again, statistically). Just an interesting point about blowing shit up not being the true path to religious tolerance, or something like that.

But I was just there for the scruffy blond hair, the big blue eyes and those little pouty looks. Sigh.

It was neatly bookended by Spooks, which underlined the whole same old, same old of history and politics. Also watched Foyle's War, the last episode, which kind of stumbled to a stop. I understand the key show driver died, which is the why, but the watching was still somewhat disappointing and anti-climatic and extra-ordinarily loose endy.

Other stuff watched included Friday's Dalziel & Pascoe, which seemed somewhat better than the last few, though it was also very, very D&P do an old Van Der Valk episode they found shoved up the back of a desk drawer somewhere. Not that I minded, but I wouldn't want anyone to think I hadn't noticed. Nevertheless I enjoyed it, and was bemused to see PW pop up in a guest spot, still with the wretched accents, I note.

Alas, didn't get much time for the fic: by the time it was quiet enough to write without train of thought shattering door slamming I was kinda knackered, but I really do want to finish this triptych of Robin Hood fics now that I know it does have a point and a destination and it manages to hit several bits of established RH mythology on the way out like a demented pinball so that made me happy. The unhappy ending also made me happy - because I'm a twisted puppy like that, but this time I can point and shout "it's tradition" then scamper off and hide, laughing like a loon.

Or something like that. On the Sam & Gene front, not a lot going on, but that's my main complaint re S2, which I was relying upon to inspire me anew, so bit of a grizzle there, still.

Oh yes, I also watched, or rather ff'd thorough AvP on Saturday night. I'd meant to get online but a storm roared up and reminded me why I don't use sensitive equipment during storms. It's not the fear of a strike, though that would be bad, but the way my lights flickered on and off in morse code all night. Not good. So it was late when the storm finally choofed off, I was bored and I put it on. It sucketh bad, and worse, my boy was sporting a very unfetching Yank accent (you know I hate it when they do that) and he sounded like ome of the Tracy brothers, though I couldn't work out which. Anyways he was hardly in it at all then pretty much just laid down and died and hello my old friend the eject button. Ah, there is a reason I'd not sat through that before, and probably won't again. Talk about your actual sacrficial lamb.

And the weekend wasn't without my promised Sean Pertwee treats, either. Didn't quite get a chance for the toga toga toga fest, but I did catch Goal! and he was in that, albeit briefly, as an arsehole. But the film, though I could care less about soccer, was mucho de Sandro, so I quite enjoyed it, actually. Ah, pretty, pretty Sandro, and his character wasn't quite the jerk the reviews had made him out to be, not at all. I was surprised by how much Sandro was in it, as I'd been led to believe it was a bit part, too, so I'd not sought it out until it came on cable. Silly me.

And in case you think this Sean Pertwee thing is new, oh, so not. It's just that he hasn't been on telly much, of late. Sean, is, fact, patient zero as far as the whole Brit Actor thing goes. It starts with Cadfael then goes something like Blue Juice (Ewan McGregor, Steven Mackintosh), Shopping (Jude Law, Sean Bean) which leads to Sharpe (Daniel Craig, James Purefoy) and Trainspotting (Kevin McKidd, Jonny Lee Miller, Robert Carlyle) and so on and from Sharpe we sort of leap sideways into Hornblower (Ioan Gruffudd, Jamie Bamber, Sam West) then to Warriors (Damian Lewis, Matthew MacFadyen) then Spooks (Rupert Penry Jones) and somewhere in there is squeezed This Life (Jack Davenport, Andrew Lincoln) which goes on to Coupling (Richard Colyle) and meanwhile there's Soldier Soldier (Dougray Scott, Robson Green, Peter Wingfield, Shaun Dingwall, James Callis, Angus Macfadyen) which somehow spills into Badger and then Teachers (Jonas Armstrong) and so on and so forth and I don't have time to draw a big Venn diagram, but you get the idea. Sean Pertwee started all this. Tsk.

It doesn't take me long to get six degrees twixt Sean Pertwee and Sam Troughton, so we all know who is to blame for my current obsession du jour. Poor Sean, such a burden to carry - snerk.

Oh, somewhere in there also fits Patrick Baladi, whom I spotted in Midsomer Murders last night. Actually, it was his arse I spotted first, as the scene opened upon an amorous adventure. I know, you're thinking how could she tell which actor it was from 1.5 seconds of arse-cam? Hey, it's my super power, what can I say? All I know is that when he popped up it was indeed Mr Baladi, albeit a bit younger and thinner, and soon to die very horribly because he had a) strayed into the Midsomer triangle of doom and b) had sex and all tv sex must be punished (just ask poor Sam Troughton).

Well, the Puritans did win, I suppose.

The other thing I watched which I think I mentioned was that Britpop docco. It bemused. And my god, but Damon is a wanker. I mean, I knew that, but he really is. And note girlie Bodie glass where Noel had a real man's straight glass, straight out of Get Carter. I noticed and was bemused by this, too. So much to discuss, re class wars, anti-American sentiment and Thatcherism, but I'm tired now and my brain won't go to the typing place, let alone the fic place. Sigh (it was one of those nights where the bed only stopped being painfully lumpy thirty seconds before the alarm went off, I also just ate something I had a reaction to - ooogie - eat not of the red food dye...).,,2020079,00.html
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Tags: alessandro nivola, dalziel and pascoe, kevin mckidd, life on mars, richard coyle, robin hood, sam troughton, sean pertwee, spooks

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  • My tweets

    Sat, 18:27: RT @ wisetuna: 🎶 It’s Friday! “Time to straighten right out… ahhh, ahhh…” - The Specials - A Message to You, Rudy - 1979 #ska

  • My tweets

    Fri, 13:02: Ooh, I've this one 😍 Fri, 13:08: RT @ MarcDavenant: San Carlo Restaurant in the snow, New York in…

  • My tweets

    Thu, 12:42: RT @ SketchesbyBoze: I just want to know where they're going Thu, 17:26: RT @ WellyParanormal: Fan of…