The Haunting
by Margaret Mahy (Atheneum, 1982); audiobook read by Richard Mitchley (Bolinda, 2015)
A surprising, decidedly non-formulaic play on genre expectations. The speculative element remains secondary to what Mahy does best—which is to depict relatable child characters (usually of the unheralded variety) surviving and even flourishing in unromanticised, often broken or ‘found’ family settings.
Hot Water
by P G Wodehouse (Herbert Jenkins, 1932); audiobook read by Jonathan Cecil (Blackstone, 2012)
Not from one of Wodehouse’s famous series, but ably representative of his work. There are facetious conversations and flippant undertakings aplenty—ill-fated engagements; romantic entanglements and misunderstandings; comedowns and comeuppances—all steaming towards each other like ocean liners converging on an iceberg.
The Franchise Affair
by Josephine Tey (Peter Davies, 1948); audiobook read by Carole Boyd (Audible Studios, 2011)
An Inspector Alan Grant mystery where Grant is, at best, a subsidiary character. There is also very little mystery or investigation! The novel is more a character study and a depiction of (and social commentary on) village life post- Second World War.
Agaton Sax and the Max Brothers
by Nils-Olof Franzén; ill. Quentin Blake (Andre Deutsch, 1970) [also published as “Agaton Sax and the Bank Robbers”]
![Book cover: “Agaton Sax and the Max Brothers” by Nils-Olof Franzén; ill. Quentin Blake (Andre Deutsch, 1970) [also published as “Agaton Sax and the Bank Robbers”]](https://www.derelictspacesheep.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/09/Franzen_Agaton-Sax-Max-Brothers.jpg)
Assured and often droll (especially the conversations) but lacking the madcap joie de vivre of other Agaton Sax capers. The great detective’s secretive master-plan lacks the usual proactiveness—he and Lispington mostly trail after the crooks, indulging them until an unlikely denouement.
Tintin: The Castafiore Emerald
by Hergé, trans. Leslie Lonsdale-Cooper & Michael Turner (Methuen, 1963)
A truly delightful instalment. Hergé casts aside Tintin’s usual action-adventuring in favour of a manor house mystery full of playful misdirection. Even while humour and slapstick abound, he gives his fans a knowing wink (note the front cover) and subverts their expectations.
The Big Book of Garfield
by Jim Davis (Beaumont, 1984)
One large-panelled Sunday strip per page, but printed on cheap paper and all in black-and-white. Davis occasionally captures something quirky or endearing in the human/cat dynamic, but for the most part the humour (and indeed the illustration) is uninspired, unnuanced and unfunny.
The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai Across the 8th Dimension!
dir. W. D. Richter (1984)
Very 1980s and very much of B-movie stock, blending music-video vibes (without much actual music), some truly appalling acting and an utterly batshit-crazy SF plot. The sets and props are praiseworthy, as is the attention given to incidental detail and throwaway incongruities.
The Innocence of Father Brown
by G. K. Chesterton (Cassell, 1911); audiobook read by Frederick Davidson (Blackstone, 2012)
Engaging short stories, particularly as read by Frederick Davidson. Father Brown’s deductions are more believable (and in their way no less impressive or trenchant) than those of, for example, Sherlock Holmes. The scenarios themselves, however, are often rather improbable in their construction.
Disorganized Crime
dir. Jim Kouf (1989)
An underappreciated comedy/heist film with more subtlety in both its script and performances than the marketing (and even a first viewing) might suggest. Rubén Blades, Fred Gwynne and Lou Diamond Phillips are particularly convincing in playing serious roles within the comedic framework.
The Blues Brothers: Private
by Judith Jacklin & Tino Insana (Perigee Books, 1980)
A movie tie-in out of left field, revealing Jake and Elwood’s backstory by way of found (often hand-scrawled) documents and archival photos—the latter used sparingly but adding value to a publication that seemingly anticipated the film’s cult status. For devotees only.