"...a rare gem..."

Back in... ooh... 1991 I think it was I picked up a magazine, and flicked through it. It was a mix of articles, and comic strips. I thought it must have been new, as I'd not remembered seeing it before, but no, it was issue #12. This zine was called "Deadline", and over time its most famous creation, Tank Girl, exploded over in to the mainstream even spawning a movie... but it was never Tank Girl that impressed me most with Deadline. There were a couple of strips that I always liked more, one was Wired World(1). The other... that was Hugo Tate.

The Hugo Tate story in issue 12 was a slice of brilliance. It was a slice of a seemingly ordinary person's life, and of love, and memories, and lost love... and it blew me away. And then there was the style of the art... intricate, and detailed, and beautiful... but hang on; Hugo himself. His head was drawn in a style with not much more detail than an acid house smiley face. But somehow it worked. It drew me in, and meant that I became a regular reader of Deadline. And, as each issue came out, the first thing I'd do would be to check that Hugo was in it. 

Eventually, Deadline ended. There was a collection of the latter, set in America, Hugo Tate stories, but not of the earlier ones. And I never saw a copy in the shops. (This was 1993. Years later when I tried getting a copy on the internet, it was surprising elusive.) There was talk of these being collected, but it never appeared. So, now it's nigh on 20 years later, and I never thought I'd get a copy...

....so, today I was in Waterstones in The Oracle, and was looking at the graphic novels. I had a quick check out of the second volume of Phonogram, and put it back on the shelves; I mean, sooner or later the stuff they missed out from the individual issues is bound to be re-released, either on its own or a new version of the second volume. I can wait. So, I walked around the other side of the stand, and a book with a bright blue spine caught my eye. There were four words on the side. 

"Nick Abadzis" and "Hugo Tate".

I picked it up immediately, and began to flick through it. As I did it sunk in exactly what it was... a new collection of Hugo Tate; not only was the American stuff in it, the earlier stuff was in there too...  I looked at the price... £14.99. My usual reaction in such times kicked in... "I wonder how much cheaper this is on Amazon...?" (2) But, then I thought... "No, sod it; I don't care how much cheaper it is on Amazon, I want this right now..." So I bought it, and I did something I haven't done in such a very long time. I went straight home, there and then, and read the whole thing from cover to cover. 

And the memories came flooding back. With anything like this there's always a fear that the memory of something is stronger, and better, than the reality. I'd not read a Hugo Tate strip in something like a decade. But I didn't need to worry. I enjoyed it as much now as I did when I first read it. The #12 story, "Waiting in Vain", was just as good today as it was that day in 1991. Oh, I'd love to tell you all about this story... but you need to read it with as little foreknowledge as possible. It's a thing of beauty. Just this strip is worth the cover price alone...

Being able to read almost every (I'll return to this soon...) Hugo Tate strip, in order, in one volume just shows how much it developed; the way how Hugo develops, not only as a character, but in terms of the style in which he is drawn, is quite something when you see it as a single work, rather than a chunks over the course of a few years. As the strip progresses the level of detail in his face increases, going from the smiley face style of the early strips, to near fully detailed in the latter ones. 

I recall being disappointed with the latter episodes set in America back when I first read it; the "road movie" elements of it never gelled with me, and I missed the more ordinary settings of the  earlier, London based, episodes. However, I found I enjoyed it much more this time around. Yes, it's certainly true the London stories are, at least to my mind, the better material; but I think looking back there was an element of me disliking the American stuff because I was judging it on what I wanted it to be, rather than what it was. And that was something I did a bit back then; I had a similar reaction to the Twin Peaks movie.

I mentioned earlier that the book contains "almost every" Hugo Tate strip; there's a small number of short strips missing according to a footnote at the back. Apparently Nick A didn't have either the original art, or a copy of the relevant issues of Deadline in which they appeared. The note states that these were "...irrelevant to the main narrative and took place outside its continuity." It's a bit of a shame that a bit of effort wasn't expended to track these down; it wouldn't have been tricky to source copies of Deadline to scan them in... I mean, I've got every issue somewhere, and I really can't be the only one! But, really, this is a minor quibble. 

Also, at the back, there's an appendix with various bits of art; covers, a t-shirt design, and so on. There's also a handful of rough sketches, including a very rough drawing of how Hugo would have progressed had there been further strips. 

Frankly; if you have any interest in the medium  of comics, you need this book in your collection. If it's not, you have a large gaping hole that can only be filled by the purchase of this book. Just go and buy it. Now.

Notes:

1 - If someone can please publish a book with the words "Phillip Bond" and "Wired World" on its spine, I'd be most grateful... I recall the final Wired World being almost as good as the Hugo strip in #12.
2 - Turns out I'd only have saved £2.25 buying from Amazon. 

"...you are a pirate..."

I've been thinking about this the last couple of days since the closure of Megaupload, and the Wikipedia (et al) blackout protesting at the forthcoming Stop Online Piracy Act (SOPA). Now, it's clearly obvious that those who create a work of art (of any type) should have the protection of that work to ensure that they receive the remuneration they deserve for it, and to ensure it is not used for purposes they deem inappropriate.

However, there are flaws at the heart of the any estimate of revenue lost to piracy. The figures quoted always seem to be based on the premise that every download of a copyrighted piece of work constitutes a lost sale. This is, of course, rubbish. To state that every person who downloads something without paying for it would have bought that work has they not downloaded it is clearly a massive overstatement. I do not deny that there will be lost sales there, but actually gauging the percentage of these downloads that would probably have cost a sale is quite probably impossible.

Anyhow. I'm starting to digress here from the main point I was really going to be making with this blog post, and that's to do with the question of the ethics of downloading from non-legitimate corners of the internet; when is it okay to do so, and when is it not okay to do so?

Now, I know there will certainly be some reading this who will say it's never ethically okay to download something from a non-legitimate site, and I respect that opinion. It is not an opinion I agree with, and here are some examples as to why not;

You will never be able to convince me that a person should not download a copy of an off-air recording of a TV show. If there's a TV show someone wants to see, and it's available as an off-air recording, then they're downloading it. This is no different to borrowing a VHS or DVDR recording from a friend. If it's the latest episodes of a US TV show not yet aired... well, again it's no different to a friend over there taping it and mailing it. It's all the same thing, just via a quicker, more efficient, method. In no way can the copyright holders be said to be losing out here. If something's broadcast on the television, it's going to be recorded, kept, and copied. It's inevitable.

You will note in the above I specifically refer to "off-air"; this is to differentiate between this and a copy of a commercially released DVD. The downloading of a commercially released DVD can never be justified; if you can't find an off-air of a show, and only a dodgy DVD copy you should go out and buy the DVD... No question. Ditto any material exclusive to the DVD release; you should buy the thing.

Mind you, sometimes the off-air version of a show is superior to the version released on DVD; music substitutions sometimes blight a release with inappropriate music used in place of the originally aired songs. (In extreme cases, it can lead to whole scenes - sometimes important ones - being excised from the DVD.) The wrong music may seem a minor, trivial, issue; but it can have a massive impact on the scene. A notable example being the replacement of the song Georgia On My Mind with some generic plinky-plonking in the episode of Quantum Leap called MIA on the US DVD release; it completely ruined the impact of the scene, which is one of the most tender, sad, moments in the show. Fortunately, the UK version had the correct song intact.

And music... Music is a veritable minefield, but there are certainly examples that can be cited. Most notable is when you're a dedicated fan of a particular band. You'll want everything they release, and you'll buy it all. But there will come a time when there will be things unreleased. Those obscure radio sessions. Bootlegs of gigs. Interviews. Live TV performances. Now, being the dedicated fan that you are, if such goodies were released you'd buy them in a shot. But they're not... so, really... realistically if you find a website with those rare, unreleased, not repeated for 20-odd years, Peel Sessions (for example) are you really going to say "ooh, no; mustn't download these, must respect copyright..." Nah... of course not. You'll be downloading them in a shot. As a dedicated fan you just must have copies.

I would also say it's possible to mount a defence for downloading an album to see if you like it. The outcome here is obvious; if you decide you like the album, you buy a copy. If you don't like it, you delete it. I would suggest this is defensible purely on the basis that this is not really any different from borrowing a copy from a friend. Of course, if you decide you like it and don't buy a proper copy, keeping the dodgy one, you're clearly in the wrong. Obviously, opinions will vary here...

The trouble is, copyright is so often seen as a black and white issue, with no shades of grey in the middle. This is unfortunate, as it's clearly not an issue that can be polarised like this. Yes, there will be those people who never pay for any of the media they consume, and this is clearly wrong. But I do put it to you that there are examples - some of which are outlined above - where although copyright is breached there is no financial loss to the copyright holder, and these should not be bracketed with those breaches of copyright where the intent is to deprive the copyright owner of the remuneration they are due.

One final thought; there are currently 106 episodes of Dr Who missing from the archive. There are vast numbers of episodes of other TV shows missing, too. Loads of early Peel Session. Virtually everything the Beatles ever did for Top of the Pops.... I could go on... Just think... if the means and methods we have today for "breaching copyright" were available back then, the gaps in these archives would have been so much smaller...

"...come on..."

Here's a question for you; is it possible to find an artist a reprehensible, loathsome, person yet still enjoy their art? It's a question that came to mind yesterday, when it was suddenly all over the internets that Gary Glitter had set up a Twitter account, and was talking of a book, new material, and gigs.

Now, no-one is suggesting that we should make light of what Glitter was convicted of doing. But does the fact that he has committed these acts change his songs at all? Should it stop us singing along to Rock and Roll part 2 (though, all the cool kids obviously sing the KLF's version of the words!) or The Leader of the Gang? Do Glitter's actions stop us enjoying his song?

Or is there a line? If a person does something very bad (as Glitter did) you can't enjoy their art, but if the thing they do is somewhat lower level is that okay? What if someone were a shoplifter? Would that be serious enough for a person to have their work consigned to the dumper?

It's a very thorny debate. If we do accept the premise that if a person commits a crime that this must mean their art is suddenly taboo, we then get in to the semantics of which offences are so bad to make this happen. If this is the standpoint you have, then where the line is drawn will end up coming down to a personal opinion as to what is beyond the pale. Most with this opinion would end up putting Glitter in to this category due to the serious nature of his offences. But, how many would place the shoplifter in that category? If you do... well, you'll have to avoid ever watching Beetlejuice, Edward Scissorhands, and Star Trek (2009) as these contain a convicted shoplifter... so, where would you draw the line?

Then there is the issue of the rehabilitation of the artist; surely if a person commits a crime, have been punished, and puts that part of their life behind them they should be able to live as close to a normal life as possible? And again, as above, the question of where the line is drawn will come in to play. Whereas a rehabilitated shoplifter would be very likely to be readily forgiven, the comments on Twitter would suggest that the prevailing view on Glitter is that his offending was so beyond the pale that this could never happen for him. The opinion of Glitter as a person is overwhelming the opinion of his songs.

That Glitter's music isn't exactly the greatest in the world may very well play a part in this, as well as the size of his fanbase. By the time of his initial conviction, his career was already on the wane. He was a bygone relic from the 70s, someone who had a handful of hits and hadn't done anything of note for some time. It was easy for his music to be boycotted; I mean, can you recall the last time you heard his music on the radio? (As an aside; it'll be interesting to see if BBC4 edit his performances out of their repeats of 1977 Top of the Pops shows.)

Contrast this with the case of Michael Jackson, who was accused of some very serious offences, on a par with Glitter. At the time the allegations first came out, and when the trial was on, there wasn't anything like the vitriol towards him. There was some, don't get me wrong; but his fans fought back at them, defending them to the hilt. And his music continued to be played on the radio...

I have a feeling that an amount of distance can help as well; if it were to come out, after a person's death, that they had been responsible for some bad, bad, things this will certainly have a lesser impact. They'll no longer be around to either commit further offences, or to earn money for their art. Say, for example, it was found out that Shakespeare had murdered three people around the time he was writing his best plays would that make people stop enjoying his work? Would the Royal Shakespeare Company disband because they didn't want to associate with a murders work? No. Of course not. Nor should it. But... if it were someone contemporary... that would be rather a different matter.

It's a very thorny issue, and realistically it has to come down to personal tastes and opinions, and whether a person thinks that artist and art are capable of being seen as discrete entities.

[I apologise for the rambling nature of this post, but it's something I've been mulling over in my mind, and I don't think I've come to any sort of conclusion. I may return to this subject again in the future...]

"...you turn if you want to..."

I should start off this review of The Iron Lady by stating that I'm not exactly what you would call a fan of Margaret Thatcher; I was reasonably sure that, before I went to see it, I would come out of the cinema ranting about it. In the end, I came out thinking it was an uncomfortable film, that was deeply flawed...

The Iron Lady has one of those trailers that, essentially, cons you; it makes you think you'll get one sort of a movie, and ends up delivering a completely different one. Which, if the movie it delivered was a better one that the one you imagined would be a very good thing. However, this is not the case.

The trailers, and indeed all the clips I've seen of it, emphasize the years when Thatcher was at the very height of her powers. When she was in charge, and everyone was terrified of her. Even many within her own party. But those moments are really only half the movie, as the framework in which these extracts of her life are placed are being recalled as memories by the aged, dementia ridden, Thatcher of the present.

We start off with Thatcher, having somehow evaded her protection team (which all ex-Prime Ministers have), slipping to the shops to buy a paper and a pint of milk, expressing shock at how much it is; grocer's daughter see, and a contrast with a later scene in the film where she rants at members of her cabinet who are out of touch and quotes the price of a pack of half a dozen different types of butter. This is a Thatcher who is in the advancing stages of dementia, who forgets that her husband, Dennis, is dead and has imaginary conversations with him about all sorts of things, including the old days. This provides the framework for the film as she recalls how she started in politics, her rise to become first Leader of her party, then of the country.

Frustratingly, too many moments are briefly glossed over, and the impression is one of just glossing over the surface of each event; there's never any real insight in to how her mind worked. Every time you hope for a little depth, we're pulled back to the modern day, and the "framework". And this is really the biggest problem with the movie, in that it's really rather less a movie about Thatcher's life in politics than that of a person who can't let got of her dead husband; this is the emotional centre of the movie, and really, it doesn't work. There were too many moments during these sequences when I was squirming, and feeling really uncomfortable. This isn't to say such a story shouldn't be told, just that it should not have been used as the framing story for a movie about Thatcher.

I think a better framing device for the movie would have been to have used the events of November 1990, when she was ousted as a result of a leadership challenge. Have that playing out with her remembering her rise, and her glory days, as she comes to the decision that she can't contest the second round of the ballot. That would have made for a much more powerful film, in my opinion.

Some have cited historical inaccuracies in the film, but I'm not sure these really matter too much; the framework here makes it clear that the events were are seeing are as Thatcher remembers them. This is a different thing to how something might actually have been (I'm remembered here about the comment's Bill Pullman's character makes in Lost Highway about how he dislikes video cameras...). Memories are not perfect. Mind you, the "rose petal" sequence had me rolling my eyes...

The actual performances in the film are pretty good. Streep's Thatch is played really well, and you do feel a sense of sympathy for her in the framework scenes. Many of the historical figures barely get a shoo-in. Anthony Head and Richard E Grant do little more than cameos as Geoffrey Howe and Michael Heseltine respectively; I would have loved to have seen many more scenes with both in. And the chap playing John Major doesn't even get any lines, or even a credit... (well; at least I thought it was John Major, could really have been a random grey cabinet minister in glasses, I guess...!)

I think this was one of those films that I'm glad I saw, but I don't think I actually got anything out of it. A biopic should give you an insight in to that person, what makes them tick, what motivates them; but here I don't think we got anything more than what we already know, from the public image, of Thatcher. I don't feel at all enlightened, nor do I get any sense of how she conducted herself as PM. It really was a misfire on pretty much all sides, bar the actual performances. I would probably have preferred an approach similar to that taken by The Queen; where rather than a whole life biopic, we see the events around a single, specific event, to really get under her skin to see how she worked.

Really, this was a wasted opportunity.

"...only in dreams..."

Over at one of the forums I post at, I was asked for advice re which David Lynch films a person who has never seen a David Lynch film (except Dune) should see should they venture to the BFI for the Lynch season at the BFI, which is showing almost everything he's done so far. This is a rejigged version;

I guess it depends on how many you have the time to see, but the following is how you should prioritise, if you can only make some;

1 - Blue Velvet. Best movie ever made, IMHO. However, be warned; it is not an easy watch. There are some scenes that really push you to the extreme. Dennis Hopper's character is genuinely scary. It's a movie that expects you to keep up with it. I found it hard to follow some aspects the first time I saw it (I think I was still shellshocked in places by how far it goes), but the actual plot is pretty straightforward.

2 - Eraserhead. Lynch's first, and most surreal. Seen it several times; I still do not have a clue what the heck it's about. It's more of an experience than a film, but it's an experience worth having. Jack Nance is quite, quite, brilliant. Nance, of course, pops up in most of Lynch's films. Also, you get to see three shorts, The Grandmother, The Amputee and The Alphabet...

3 - Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me. I disliked this when I first saw it, but then that was because it wasn't what *I wanted* the Twin Peaks movie to be (it'd take too long to explain). It'd be interesting to see the response of someone who's not seen the TV series, and how well it hangs as a movie if you don't know who all of the minor characters in the movie are... though, if you are planning to watch the TV show, and don't want to know the answer to the question "Who killed Laura Palmer?" it might be best to avoid.

4 - Lost Highway. I've still not got the hang of this one. Every time I think I've got a handle on it, a thought occurs that just makes me question everything. There's some great stuff here, and what Mr Eddy does to the tailgater should be required viewing for anyone that takes part in such behaviour. The comment made by [someone] about never getting more than halfway through it is very interesting... but I'll not comment further... *spoilers*

5 - Mulholland Drive. This one was a failed TV pilot that Lynch managed to get the funds to make in to a feature film (you can tell certain bits that were from the film version even if you've never seen the TV edit...!), most notably the scene that Rago would most want to see on the big screen... : ) It's another one that seems to be complex and tricky to understand, but I think it can (albeit briefly) be explained using three words... which I'll not mention here.

Then, after these you've got;

The Straight Story; which does exactly what it says on the tin. Even though the subject is nothing like a normal Lynch film, and there's no out and out weirdness in it, it has the usual Lynchian feel running right through it...

Wild at Heart; one of the most straightforward movies. Reminded me a little of True Romance. Probably the best performance you'll even see from Nic Cage. Better, even, than his performance as Cameron Poe in Con Air. It's that good.

The Elephant Man; you know, biopic of Mr Merrick. It's a pretty decent film. But, it's many years since I last saw it, so really can't comment further..

Dune; nothing to say here... : ) Worth noting that it's the only Lynch movie for which he didn't get final cut. It's also the only Lynch film I've not seen, despite having got a free DVD with the Grauniad some time back.

Which leaves...

Inland Empire. Oh. My. Word. When this was out in the cinema, it wasn't showing anywhere around here. So, me and a fried travelled in to London to see it (at the Odeon a few doors from Forbidden Planet). Even now, over 5 years later, he still talks of me dragging him along to see that terrible film...

I mean, I've left Lynch movies before thinking "what the heck was that about?", but it never mattered, as the actual experience of the film was an enjoyable one; that you leave the movie not understanding everything about it isn't a bad thing as it makes you think, makes you wonder, and makes you want to see the thing again.

With Inland Empire I left thinking "what the heck was that about?"... but the experiece...? Oh, no... not enjoyable at all. Trouble was, it just did not feel like a Lynch movie at all. Whatever equipment (some digital camera, and not HD; he doesn't do HD...) he used often made it look like camcorder footage, with terrible pixelisation, in some place (but not others). He'd seemingly randomly spliced in footage from his web Rabbits thing. Scenes just seemed completely random in nature, which is no great surprise as he was making the whole thing up as he went along. He'd write a scene (or group of scenes), film it, and then write some more. If that had been the first Lynch movie I'd ever seen, I swear I'd never watch another one. It was that bad.

Put it this way, if I had the choice to watch Inland Empire, and any other DVD; the other DVD would win almost every time. The only time Inland Empire would win would be if it were a choice between Inland Empire and Simply Red: Live in Concert.

I did actually buy the DVD of Inland Empire. Just to give it a second chance. Put it in the machine, and it was out again within 15 minutes... Avoid. Avoid. Avoid.

"...another year over..."

I've kind of been a little lazy on the ol' blog this year, as the number of posts contained here attest, as well as the large gaps between posts. Must try to improve this in the new year. Anyhow... 2011... what did you bring us...?

Well, politically speaking there was the realisation that Cameron and Osborne managed to succeed where Blair and Brown failed. That is, they appear to have achieved an end to boom and bust. The nation rejoiced, until they realised that meant we were stuck with bust...

Actually, much about the government continued to depress and annoy. The announcement, the day before the public sector strike on November 30th, that after a two year pay freeze for public sector workers (2011, 2012) that the next two years' pay increases would be capped at 1% (2013, 2014) was rather less a case of bad timing, and more a case of perfectly calculated timing by Osborne. He knew exactly what he was doing.

Prime Minster's questions continues to be a fascinating insight in to the machinations of government, and really makes you wonder how they ever get anything done. However, the reaction to Cameron's "Calm down, dear"comment was somewhat overblown, and totally out of perspective. I'm no great fan of his, but if you're going to berate him at least do it for something worthwhile, not because he quoted a Michael Winner TV ad.

The braying that goes on in the chambers when PMQ is on does Parliament no favours. The number of times the Speaker, John Bercow, has to upbraid unruly MPs for their behaviour is astonishing. These are meant to be the people governing our country; yet they act worse than a pack of unruly school children. And this applies to members on both sides of the house. When a member stands up to ask a question, I want to hear that question. And when the Prime Minister answers, I want to hear the answer. That's the point of it.

I can't help but wish more of the Houses of Parliament was available in an easily downloadable format. Only PMQs really is via a Guardian podcast, and that's not always entirely reliable. Other debates can be watched on parliament.gov (I think that's the right site), but you can't download the audio to listen to on your iPod on the way to work. There's been a few debates this year I wouldn't have minded listening to in full. Notably, the phone hacking one.

The phone hacking hoo-ha can't really have been any great surprise; back in the day when you could listen in to any old mobile phone conversation (with the old analogue mobile networks), the papers were at it al the time. There were whole conversations of Princess Di's printed, for example. So, if there were a way to listen in to voicemails, then it's not a stretch of the imagination to think that the press would do so... and, indeed there had been all sorts of mentions of it in years past. Piers Morgan even mentioned the trick in one of his books (though it should of course be noted that at no point in his books does he state that he ever hacked, or sanctioned the hacking, of a phone). But, a surprise it was to many, and in the end caused the closure of an entire newspaper. An action which many thought an over-reaction. It's not like they were the only paper to use the tactic.

The best single of the year arrived suddenly, at least to me, in the last fortnight of the year. On the way home one day very close to Christmas, Tarrant (standing in for Wrighty) played a song that entranced me. It was playing just as I was parking, and unusually I stayed sat in the car listening to the whole song to its end, even after the point Tarrant started yakking over the end. This song was Dance by The Brilliant Things, and as the band's name would suggest, it is quite, quite, brilliant.

Of the films I saw this year (and I am well aware there were some glaring omissions that I never got around to seeing; TTSS, and ROTPOTA, to name but two) my favourite came as quite a surprise to me. Not only was it a documentary, but also it was about a sport that I'm not overly enamoured with. This movie was Senna, which told the story of Ayton Senna's career in F1 racing; it was absolutely wonderful. All the footage was contemporaneous, and totally eschewed the "talking head" approach to documentary making that seems to be all pervading. All interviews were from the time, with none looking back from a 2011 perspective. This was quite a refreshing approach as it allowed the story to unravel as it happened, with everything seen as it was with no modern spin put on things.

Really, I would urge everyone reading this to watch Senna; even if you have no great interest in the sport.

The saddest thing on telly this year was the last ever episode of Spooks. It should have been expected that there would be no happy ending... but when it arrived it was devastating. The final shot of Harry, back at work, answering the phone... knowing how it could have played out, what the happy ending might have been. It just gave you a big lump in your throat. And you just knew that Harry would remain with 5 for the rest of his days.

The third generation of Skins arrived, and were probably the least impressive lot yet. The main trouble for me was that I really didn't think they gelled as a group anything like as well as the first two generations. It's not like I expect them all to be bestest of buddies or anything (that would make for terrible drama), but I just didn't think the group worked. There were individual episodes that were really great, but on the whole the weakest season yet. It'll be interesting to see where they go with Season 6, which must surely be on telly very soon in the new year.

There was good news at the annual Missing Believed Wiped event at the BFI in December with the return of two previously missing Dr Who episodes; Galaxy 4, episode 3, and The Underwater Menace episode 2. The latter was probably the most new episode of Dr Who I'd seen all year, and only went to reinforce how sad it is that the majority of Patrick Troughton's episodes of Dr Who remain missing, believed wiped...

A sad thing Dr Who related was that the new animated version of the never completed Season 17 story, Shada, was turned down for a DVD release. This version had been privately commissioned by Ian Levine, using as many surviving cast members as possible (the only notable omission being Tom Baker; whose lines were performed by Paul Jones, who does a decent impression of the great man). This version uses all the existing filmed footage, and animates the rest. It's a great shame that as things stand it's not going to get a much wider audience, as it's without any doubt the best version of Shada yet made (the other three being the 80s version with on screen text describing the action, the 90s version with Tom narrating the gaps, and the 00s version with Big Finish remaking the entire thing replacing Tom with Paul McGann). With luck, the position on this will eventually change and it will get the release it so very much deserves.

Of course, the other two sad events in the Dr Who world were the deaths of Nicholas Courtney, and Elisabeth Sladen. I made the mistake of reading Doctor Who Magazine's tribute issue to Courtney on the train to work; by the time I'd got to Tom Baker's tribute there were tears in my eyes. I made sure I read the Sladen issue safely ensconced at home.

So, farewell then, 2011... and hello 2012. What will you bring? Certainly not the end of the world due to "Mayan prophecies" or any of that load of old Tottenham... : )

"...every silver lining has a cloud..."

After the good news about the two missing episodes of Dr Who turning up, there's been a bit of less good news, in a "so close, but so far" style. Over at the missing episodes forum someone asked;

Was reading through the comments of the Guardian article on the recent find and came across a poster who posted:
"An ex-brother-in-law of mine from Sierra Leone claimed in the early 1990s that he had seen a stack of tape reels of Dr. Who shows archived in a Freetown broadcasting studio. Some of the more intrepid Whoies may want to follow up on this as I've since lost contact with the man.
http://www.slbc.sl/ "

Not sure if Sierra Leone has been searched or not (I'm new, still reading through the thread!), just thought I'd bring it to someones attention

Paul Vanezis responded to this;

Well it's a good spot, although a few people have already emailed me with the info. I can now confirm that there is no material in Sierra Leone, but I can also say that we think the report is correct, that there were Dr. Who and other films in Sierra Leone in the early 1990's. In fact, we think we know which ones.

I'm afraid that between 1991 and 2002 the civil war prevented any meaningful exploration of their archives and we very recently discovered that the TV station, including their entire archive, was destroyed during the civil war, we think in 1999.

The list of material lost is far too distressing to print here.

A look at the episodes they got over there, and a bit of reading between the lines, makes for depressing reading...

"...he's as mad as a hatter..."

So. Today was Missing Believed Wiped at the BFI. Only the second time I've been. The lure of a previously missing Dennis Potter play, and the... speculation... as to what the sci fi treat was tempted me down again. And, boy was I glad.

The event kicked off with a screening of the aforementioned Potter play, from the Thirty Minute Theatre strand, called Emergency Ward 9. Present at the screening was Kenith Trodd, who worked with Potter on so many productions (including this one), who spoke briefly about the play. It was every bit as good as I had expected it to be, and was well performed by the cast (I have a memory it was done live, but would have to check to be sure). The racism of one of the characters, Flanders played by Terence De Marney, was quite shocking, really, and there were many nervous laughs throughout the audience. The thing was, though, that you never got the impression he was being malicious, rather he was a very misguided character; so much so, that when there was a sudden act of violence towards him, you couldn't help but feel sad for him. I very much hope it gets a DVD release at some point in the future.

Next up was the Mumford Puppets, and this really was my least favourite part of the event. I'm not a fan of puppet stuff at all; I don't even care for Gerry Anderson's stuff. I can't help but wish that this section had been canned, and the time given over to showing one of the other shows in full, rather than an extract...

An episode of Overseas Press Club called The Man Who Changed Faces followed. This was... interesting. It was one of those shows that initially started off bad, and got worse, and then sunk to such depths that it became so bad it was good... a resistance fighter has plastic surgery to resemble a high ranking Nazi soldier, who then passed on information back to the resistance... The quality of the acting was such that the wooden chairs had more charisma. The script, for what it was worth (about 7p) was full of lines that made everyone chuckle. Yet, somehow, it worked. And made me want to see more...

Next was a clip of Pete 'n' Dud from a show called Showtime; it was just brilliant. But then any Pete 'n' Dud clips usually are brilliant; the way the par sparked off each other... wonderful.

Then came the sci fi treat... and what a treat. 35 minutes of previously missing Dr Who...

We started with about 10 minutes of Airlock, the third episode of the Hartnell story Galaxy Four. We got to see a Rill on screen for the first time in many years indeed, which for most of us would be the first time we've seen them. Poor ol' Billy had a bit of a fluff with one of the props in the Rill ship as a piece clearly fell off the controls as Vicki got trapped. There was, also, a great scene with Maaga berating her clones. The performance was great, a real sense of exasperation as she complains about how crap they are. But, just as it was getting started, really, the screen cut to black...

...and we got a complete episode, The Underwater Menace 2, which is now the earliest surviving Patrick Troughton episode, and boy it's a good one. Now, I love The Underwater Menace; I think its previously sole surviving episode, #3, is probably the single episode of Who I've watched more than any other. #2 is just as good. A good chunk of the first half of the episode consists of Troughton and Josef Furst's wonderful Professor Zaroff sparking off each other in the Prof's laboratory. And it works really well. The expressions on Troughton's face as Zaroff does the usual bad guy thing of explaining his plan are just brilliant, and make you so glad the episode was found. We don't get to see Zaroff's pet octopus, though...

Later, when the Doctor is trying to convince Thous that Zaroff is mad (as a hatter, in fact...!) we also get some great expressions from Troughton. In fact, the more Troughton you see, the more you wish that we could get lots more of his stuff back. Let's not forget, shall we, that this episode is the first Troughton to be recovered in the twenty (yes *twenty*) years since The Tomb of the Cybermen was found.

The episode is physically not in too great shape, but this was an unrestored copy, so I'm sure that by the time the restoration team get working their magic on it, it will look brilliant. It was also very interesting that the copy of the print was one that must have been down under in Australia at some point, as it was missing the censor clips recovered from there a few years back; these will be reinstated when restored.

I was just so blissfully happy watching the episode. I really never thought I'd get to see any more of the Underwater Menace, and had pretty much started to get to the thinking that there were no more to find. But, from out of nowhere these two episodes came. And, like The Lion and Day of Armegeddon, they were in the collection of a person who had no idea they had the only copies of these episodes.

Makes you wonder if there are any more out there...