So no Life on Mars. No Jane Eyre, no Dracula, no State Within, Hustle or Spooks S5. But I do get my silly outlaws. Ah, well.
Kinda set the theme for the weekend anyway, aka SamFest '07.
Firstly I should admit I did no work this weekend. Well, I did start on the gardening, actually had rake in hand, when it started pelting down and stayed pelting down until I wandered off, bored. I didn't do anything else, and I should have, especially my room which has, sadly, in the last fortnight, reverted to its true nature.
In my defence it was a week, what with the even more than usual grind, all my friends now located outside the 10,000km exclusion zone and staring redundancy down a barrel. Aren't I up for a change, asked some wanker still (somehow) walking around with a working set of bollocks (like I said, off week). Well, no. I've had seven different letterheads in the last five years and I'd just like to coast for a bit, if you don't mind. That would be a change. If I want excitment, I'll buy a fekking plane ticket.
What did make me inexplicably all giggly squee happy was finding that dvd of Hex floating atop the bargain bin. It's a small thing, I know, but I did waste an obscene amount of Saturday evening ogling Sam Troughton, and I'm still floating on the fangirl vapours. Funnily enough, Sam comes into it just when I started watching it on Arena when it was on (it started up when I was away). Then, I think I was still a bit too cranky to really get into it. It was the sort of tv I liked well enough, but just to watch, not to obsess over (also, had a friend who loathed it so it wasn't something I ever mentioned out loud, you know how it is).
Well, that's about to change, and look away now if you've not seen it because there is a rather obvious twist about two or three episodes in re Sammykins. Also, you're probably gonna want to skip this bit anyway as I dive headlong into the squee.
I should also apologise for this unmitigated squee over one well and truly obscure Brit thesp. I dunno what happened. Once upon a time I was quite capable of watching Hex, Gunpowder or Robin Hood et al without risk to sense or sensibility, but a couple of months ago I just saw a random photo and zing went the strings. It's just one of those things. Please bear with me. Normal services should resume...as soon as I can ascertain what is normal anyway.
And it was only one small evening of dvd flailing. I'm in entirely the wrong hemisphere and pay bracket to turn psychostalker girl :) Besides, I'm too lazy.
So, Hex. Always described as Buffy Lite, when, to my mind, it's more like Buffy Hardcore. All the sex, drugs, death, torture, kinkiness and general nastiness that US shows dare not even think of. In fact the warning label took up nearly half of the backcover, a veritable checklist of what I look for in a tv show. Heh.
Basically, everyone has unhappy love affairs with unsuitable partners (bad boys and girls galore) and dies horribly. Nope, can't see why I'd like it. And man, does it churn through the characters. You know, I always wondered by BTVS perservered with SMG when there was an out actually written into the concept. Dull plots, boring characters and blind alleys do not linger in Hex. Hell, even the cool stuff gets chucked aside with considerable contempt. In Hex, Dawn would have been dead by the end of the second episode, at the very most, and we'd have all have been the happier for it.
So, it's smexy demons vs horny highschool kids, you know, the usual. Enter my boy as Jez Heriot, a bundle of adorable blond dorkness. At the end of the first episode it is revealled that he really is...a priest. But wait, that's more, as it's soon revealed that he's really one of the fallen (Ramiel). So, a demonic priest skulking about in black and being all evil and smexy and having his undoubtedly wicked way with the class tart (think the unholy spawn of Cordelia and Tanya from Footballers Wives).
Oh, baby, now they are so talking my language: my favourite evil priest trope. Squee. Consider my fancies tickled as my boy sneers and snarls and sulks and pouts and plots and gets up to all manner of no goodness and pals around with his demon master (always the
I mean, cute puppy Sam is one thing, but EvilSam is quite another. My fave scene was, and still is, the discussion of Reservoir Dogs during the torture scene (I've referenced it so many times by now you must surely know it), but any scene where he's having an intimate little chat with Azazeal at the church wins, really (because he's usually in the gear and being all sexy and evil and stuff). Then there's the scene where he runs down the stairs and the light catches his hair just so...but I'll spare you.
The only scene that didn't work for me, and which was sadly used for the publicity shots, was when he was supposed to make the Big Evil Face, but he's carrying an umbrella as jauntily as Gene Kelly over his shoulder and who knew that umbrellas could so effectively suck all the evil out of a scene. It just looks ridiculous. More Dr Evil than evil, if you get my drift. Ah well.
It was also kind of sad, still mourning Gambit's passing, that I could not love the classic ITC gratuitous judo scene as much as I should have. Okay, so it does have some sort of point down the road (and isn't just an excuse for pyjamas), but basically it's your standard gratuitous judo scene. Not that there's ever anything wrong with that. Heh.
And it's nice to see the lad playing someone vaguely competent for once, even if there is a mishap with the evil scissors (as opposed to the good scissors). Well, okay, so he's not that competent, but he isn't a complete joke, and he does a nice line in nasty. Lots of me flailing about as he gets his evil smexy on.
Switched across to Gunpowder, Treason and Plot (and I do mean switched between the two) and it was like Azazeal and Jez up to their old tricks via flashback. I've swooned about this, lots, so I'l spare you the refluxsive redux, but, oh my, he does ponce about in ruffs so prettily, and this is his best hair ever, especially when it's all ruffled. And that all black outfit? Woof! Oh, my pretty, pretty murderous little zealot/terrorist (I mean, I could bore you with an essay on society, religious intolerance in the UK and a history of violence and nastiness, and for a country that exports the idea of the quaint country vicar, my, but it's had its vicious religious upheavals) but really, I was just there for the pretty hair and the big blue eyes.
And he so had a crush on Guy. Big wet sloppy mancrush. Again, Sam? (One of these days I'll see him play something where he isn't the adoring
So, the night's tally went something like:
Looking gorgeous: countless
Looking evil: countless
Being clueless: countless
Women throttled: two
Horrible deaths suffered: two
Black is the new black: not enough
Mancrushes: two (or three if you count his brother in Gunpowder, but let's not)
Poncing about in ruffs: yes
Poncing about dressed like Jesse Custer: yes
Sex on a desk: two
Bare everything: yes
And so it would go. A fine night's viewing was had.
Sunday night was limited to Agatha Christie. Now I am a fan (this will become painfully obvious later on) having read a shitload, frankly, of her output when at highschool and uni and being unable to afford books not in op shops, which meant I was pretty much limited to the Christie ouvre (with Doyle and Fleming thrown in for good measure). A friend has already spluttered over the shoehorning of Miss Marple into a Tommy and Tuppence story and relegating Tommy to the plodding DI role and, the far greater sin, turning my beloved Tuppence, and I adored her as a young teen, into a bored alcoholic empty nester housewife. Arrrgh.
That said, it was lovely to see Greta and Anthony, albeit in reduced roles (though the badly pasted frankenporn pics at the outset had me reeling) and the sets were just smashing, one could pause and rewind just to look at the vases, really, which is about all it offered up in the way of entertainment, though I remain bemused at how they cut through the quaint old fashioned doublespeak and call a harelipped halfwit and harelipped halfwit.
It all rather reminded me of that episode of Top Gear where they go caravaning and visit the local pub and one hears the sound of banjos playing, just to indicate the sort of small country town it is. Hee. Oh yes, thanks to a friend I finally saw the carvan episode. I nearly died watching it. Serious, life threatening flailing in hysterics. Funniest thing on tv, well, maybe not ever, but right up there, certainly.
Of course, with no more stale Top Gear on offer locally I really should have rationed my Top Gear more prudently, but a disk of Top Gear is like a tube of Pringles. Loved the van episode, too, but nothing can compare to that caravan trip.
Btw, if you ever want to see two of the lads sharing a bed, and I know some of you do, this is the episode to watch. :)
Monday night brought that increasingly angsty slice of brotherly love otherwise known as Supernatural (and, please, Ten, don't play up the pandering in the promos re the double bed). Now sadly I wasn't giving it my full attention for the first half because I was still doing stuff, but the later half was all about Dean refusing to kill his soon to be extraordinarily evil instead of just whining a lot baby brother, and not letting anyone else kill Sam either, though Sam seemed very capable of saving his own bacon, thank you kindly.
In fact poor Dean was rendered somewhat doltish in this, as he is whenever Sam is in the ascendancy, but never mind. Jensen's starting to look older, no longer the dew kissed boy of yore, but, for a pretty boy, it's really giving him character, and I do like the dry as dust way he plays Dean. I honestly could not bear the show if not for the way he plays with Dean's ever so sligtly twisted sense of humour. I would never say Jensen was one of the world's greatest thesps, but of all the former WB pretty boys, he's one of the only ones who can actually act, and act well, and the show gives him enough tools to showcase Dean's angst, his gallows humour and the deep felt sense that beneath the bravado lies a very torn up soul - which is de rigour for American heroes of the highway, so he's nailed it, basically. Bravo.
Yes, there's a whiff of Preacher in Supernatural, too. And I am curious to see what HBO does with the actual Preacher. That it's HBO and not a lesser station gives me some hope (which just goes to show you how much of a cockeyed optimist I can still be at times).
How much of a Preacher fangirl was I? Oooh, queuing up for an autograph at a comic con, that level of fangirl. So consider my steely eye set upon the project.
Ok, we've learnt today that while it's perfectly acceptable to call one's pc a little fucktard at home, one should not forget oneself and use the same terms of endearment at work, no matter what the spiteful little fucktard has just gone and done.
Dear Dell Boy, somebody actually called him old and slow to his face yesterday, which is all I need since he seems to be taking a leaf from Robin's Big Book of Strops. In fact he's been peevish ever since I switched LOM wallpaper for Robin. A bad influence for the easily led, I suppose. Mind you, I'm not that sold on returning LOM to its place of glory since it, too, seems to be taking a leaf out of Robin's book re scenery devouring, crap acting, sledgehammer subtle scripts and shoehorned romance with annoying marysues.
Btw, on Friday we cracked up over Smallville (which at least is delivering on arrows, robbing of the feelthy rich and codpieces) and Lex's new piece of unabashedly Galifreyan wall art. It's hideous, but is is very, very Galifrey. Oh yes, we're such anoraks.
And funny how Smallville was going to be all about Aquaman (or Sea Man, as the Peanut gallery insists) and then suddenly, no, it's all about Green Arrow instead. Zeitgeist, mayhaps?
And will John Simm wear the dead duck on his head?
Gunpowder, Treason and Plot
Robin/Much slash vid "Goodbye my lover"
BBC defends Top Gear's jibes at caravanners
Top Gear caravan destruction
Johnson Talks HBO's Preacher
Warner Bros. Reimagining Sherlock Holmes
Sherlock set to buff up
Cate lined up for Indiana
INTERVIEW - British actress Griffiths takes on Robin Hood
Liz White has gone from Life On Mars to Russian communism
X-tra role for Duchovny
Space travellers get the chills
These could be heroes . . . one day
The Revolution Will Be Downloaded (if You’re Patient)
'Wiki' works its way into the dictionary, followed by 'bimbette'
Sold for £670,000: the first view of England's geography
Kaiser Chief feels lucky
American Cinemateque's Spanish Cinema XIII Series, March 17, 2007 (Viggo)
On TV: Spring can be the cruelest season for our favorite shows
How Close Is Too Close to Shane MacGowan and the Pogues?
It’s All Geek to Me
You’ve Read the Novels (Now Read the Footnotes)
Jane Austen showdown
The Costumer's Guide to Movie Costumes
Billie's walk in the park
Sexing up Jane
Austen allegro with Piper calling the tune
irst night: ITV Jane Austen season
Billie to star in Belle de Jour drama
Piper draws a crowd on ITV1
Television's lord of prime time awaits his next regeneration
Phantom butterfly vampire wank
Back, in the Future? Time Warp Could Save
Stargate SG-1 star to join 24
Lunar dust 'may harm astronauts'
City combed for hairdressing gang
Man of steel
Affleck makes quick change to superhero
Bad cop or good cop?
Fry wants a bit of Laurie
Robson Green's Foam Penis To Pop Up On the Web?
Some actors have knack for accents, others don't
Fry claims accent is on success for UK actors
Some British actors are overrated by Hollywood, claims Fry