American History X
dir. Tony Kaye (1998)
A confronting and uncomfortable film that depicts extreme racism head-on, exploring its manifestation, causes and, above all, perpetuation. Ed Norton puts in a powerful performance as a full-fledged then reformed neo-Nazi skinhead, subtly complemented by Edward Furlong as his idolising younger brother.
Blake & Mortimer: The Time Trap
by Edgar P. Jacobs; trans. Jerome Saincantin (Cinebook, 2014)
[from Le piège diabolique, 1962]
![Graphic novel cover: “Blake & Mortimer: The Time Trap” by Edgar P. Jacobs; trans. Jerome Saincantin (Cinebook, 2014) [from Le piège diabolique, 1962]](https://www.derelictspacesheep.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/06/Jacobs_Time-Trap.jpg)
Three Boy’s Own time travel adventures, unleavened by humour and heavy with in-story exposition—in addition to which, Jacobs keeps up a narrative voiceover that reads suspiciously like illustration notes-to-self inadvertently left pasted alongside each picture. Artistically accomplished but a real slog.
The Mountain of Adventure
by Enid Blyton (Macmillan, 1949)
audiobook read by Thomas Judd (Bolinda, 2021)
Alternatively ‘The Magic Mushrooms of Adventure’. Blyton’s framing story is a delight and features quite the menagerie: Kiki the parrot plus lamb, slow-worm, donkeys and Alsatians. Then she reaches the point where she has to extemporise a mystery/escapade… and goes utterly bonkers.
Groundhog Day
dir. Harold Ramis (1993)
Perfectly executed, its scenario grounded in the real-world town of Punxsutawney and its annual Groundhog Day festival, the story riffing through loops that, while sometimes as dark as they are funny, reveal a surprising measure of philosophical depth. High re-watch value (appropriately).
Death of Mr. Dodsley
by John Ferguson (The Crime Club, 1937)
audiobook read by David Thorpe (Soundings, 2023)
Ferguson affords the reader meticulous access to the discoveries, theories and reasonings of both MacNab and the police, yet still manages to spring a surprise of two (albeit in part due to glassy-eyed oversaturation). The prose is pleasant enough, its deployment underwhelming.
The Complete Peanuts: 1973 to 1974
by Charles M. Schulz (Fantagraphics, 2008)
Two more excellent years. Schulz favours Snoopy (a little too much), Charlie Brown and Peppermint Patty, but Sally also comes into her own. The physical humour is masterfully drawn, the existential comedy as reliable as ever. Plus, Schulz dabbles with dad jokes!
Father Brown: The Absence of Mr. Glass
by G.K. Chesterton; dramatised by John Scotney; (BBC Radio 4, 1987)
A single-episode addendum to Scotney’s two series of radio adaptations. Where Chesterton playfully mocked the Holmesian method, Scotney and Bernard Archard (portraying Holmes) go a little too far in demeaning the man himself. The concluding explanation of ‘Mr. Glass’ proves sadly facetious.
A Princess of Mars
by Edgar Rice Burroughs (A. C. McClurg, 1917)
audiobook read by Scott Brick (Tantor, 2008)
A freewheeling adventure aimed very much at an adolescent male market. Burroughs affects an erudite narrative voice (for pulp), and has invested sufficient thought to fudge a depiction of Martian culture. Events, however, transpire in an extemporised cavalcade, dreamlike and dramatically untethered.
Mr Browser in the Space Museum
by Philip Curtis; ill. Tony Ross (Andersen, 1985)
Colonial fiction transposed to a SF setting. Curtis doesn’t have a great deal to say, but captures the attitudinal gulf between students and adults. Ross’s scratchy illustrations once again add a layer of engagement that the text couldn’t achieve on its own.
Star Blazers, Season 1
(1979-1980)
Adapted from the Japanese anime Space Battleship Yamato (1974), Star Blazers remains much-beloved for its flared, 70s-style uniforms and incidental music, its blue-skinned alien adversaries, and a remarkable facility for evoking peril and near-despair… despite the all-encompassing disregard for logic and astrophysics!