Blake’s 7, Series 3
(BBC, 1980)
Terry Nation, having scripted replacements for Blake and Jenna, would have done well to cc the other writers in time to do more than just change the names. While Servalan amps out on galactic vamp, the costumes yaw ever-more-brazenly towards glam-rock kitsch.
King Kong
dir. Merian C. Cooper & Ernest B. Schoedsack (1933)
Ambitious but poor, of interest mostly as an unintentional critique encapsulating assumptions of white privilege. Kong smacks of goofy claymation, pitted against a plethora of equally unconvincing dinosaurs (mostly rabid herbivores). Robert Armstrong delivers his lines as if caught serenading a teleprompter.
Red Flowers: The Complete Mature Works of Yoshiharu Tsuge, Volume 2
by Yoshiharu Tsuge
ed. Mitsuhiro Asakawa, trans. Ryan Holmberg (Drawn & Quartelry, 2021)
Black-and-white comics in collectible hardcover with a lengthy essay discussing Tsuge’s work in the period 1967-1968. The backdrops of rural Japan are exquisitely detailed, the stories themselves mostly wistful, open-ended mood pieces depicting Tsuge’s travels and characters that stuck in his mind.
Star Wars: Heir to the Empire
by Timothy Zahn (Bantam Spectra, 1991)
audiobook read by Marc Thompson (Random House, 2011)
The novel that triggered a publishing avalanche. Zahn deserves credit for his treatment of old favourites, for developing a subdued, somewhat cynical military/political setting post- Return of the Jedi, and in the person of Thrawn for taking adversaries in a new direction.
The Confessions of Arsène Lupin
by Maurice Leblanc (Éditions Pierre Lafitte, 1913)
audiobook read by Maxwell Caulfield, Juliet Mills & Stefan Rudnicki (Blackstone, 2020)
Ten more stories in which self-styled gentleman thief Arsène Lupin outwits the French police (and everyone else), albeit he does survive a few close calls this volume. Leblanc crafts ingenious scenarios, lighter in narrative voice but no less memorable than Conan Doyle.
The Last Boy Scout
dir. Tony Scott (1991)
Heavy-handed buddy action film, very male at every level of production, with a candidate for worst-ever-acted villain (Taylor Negron as Milo), yet also laugh-out-loud funny and boasting oddly exquisite, throwaway snatches of dialogue. The Last Boy Scout soars higher with every rewatch.
Doctor Who: Slipback
by Eric Saward (BBC Radio 4, 1985)
Slipback captures much of the Sixth Doctor zeitgeist but also attempts a Hitchhiker’s-style humour, which entirely fails to land. Valentine Dyall is given no interaction. The plot strands are barely developed (yet shamelessly rehashed). Hardly an advertisement for a programme on hiatus.
Death on the Cherwell
by Mavis Doriel Hay (Skeffington & Son, 1935)
audiobook read by Patience Tomlinson (Soundings, 2015)
Hay starts off with amateur detectives (students from the Oxford women’s college whose setting elevates the novel) then discards them—along with the obvious suspects—in favour of an avuncular Scotland Yard man whose deductive skills at no point outstrip the reader’s.
Yes Minister, Series 1
by Antony Jay & Jonathan Lynn (BBC 2, 1980)
A slightly patchy satire, which in later series would become truly sublime in deriding British government and the Civil Service—both gleefully caricatured yet tellingly believable! The well-meaning but ductile Jim Hacker struggles to make headway against silver-tongued bureaucrat Sir Humphrey Appleby.
Third Year at Malory Towers
by Enid Blyton (Methuen, 1948)
audiobook read by Beth Eyre (Bolinda, 2021)
Once again, Darrell is largely sidelined, Blyton leaning a little too heavily into everyday depictions… while reserving all the drama for three new characters! Still, the term breezes by and offers some tear-jerking highs amidst all the idyll of Malory Towers life.