Ladyhawke
dir. Richard Donner (1985)
An improbably successful embodiment of the 1980s filmmaking zeitgeist. Beautiful cinematography is given a progressive rock score. Michelle Pfeiffer and Rutger Hauer enact a tragic love fairy tale while Matthew Broderick witters amiably and the action turns to consciously b-grade physical comedy.
The Bad Beginning
by Lemony Snicket (HarperCollins, 1999); audiobook read by Tim Curry (Harper Audio, 2004)
As with fairy tales, the children’s circumstances and the characterisations are taken to unnatural extremes. Tim Curry’s (and cast’s) audiobook reading exacerbates this remove from reality. The piecemeal in-text defining of words is merely condescension masquerading as education, which grows quickly tedious.
The Great Explosion
by Eric Frank Russell (Dennis Dobson, 1962)
The novel whose gentle drollery earned Russell a posthumous Prometheus Award for libertarian SF. Russell’s short stories often poked fun at authority. In this longer form his anti-conformist, anti-bureaucratic ribbing encompasses also a wistful sense of the individual’s place amongst the stars.
Revenge in the Silent Tomb
by J.J. Fortune (Armada, 1984)
An escapade to keep primary school boys (most likely) turning the pages. The action is non-stop and gratuitously gung-ho, with an alarming absence of preconsideration. Some cringeworthy Arab stereotyping is offset (arguably? partially?) by the inclusion of a highly proficient female co-adventurer.
Crime Traveller
by Anthony Horowitz (BBC, 1997)
Quirky police investigations marbled with time paradox. Though made in the late 1990s, Crime Traveller gives off a 1970s vibe (with commensurate production values plus Michael French doing his best Bodie impersonation). As a boon for Red Dwarf fans, Chloë Annett co-stars.
The Guardians
by John Christopher (Hamish Hamilton, 1970)
Fifty years on, this award-winning YA science fiction novel holds its value. The story and themes are serious—dystopian even—yet told in an engaging manner without the authorial artifice, irrational character behaviour and contrived sequel-mongering so prevalent in the genre nowadays.
The Professionals #8: Dead Reckoning
by Ken Blake (Sphere, 1980)
Another workmanlike effort by Kenneth Bulmer (writing as Ken Blake). As previously, his novelisation follows three separate stories and successfully evokes the on-screen action. As a distinct work, however, this would have benefited from a less slavish shot-by-shot adherence to the scripts.
The Day the Earth Stood Still
dir. Robert Wise (1951) [Black and white]
A well-paced early SF film. Extraterrestrial ambassador Klaatu (British actor Michael Rennie, showing tolerant amusement at America’s stirred-ants’-nest mentality) lands a flying saucer in Washington, D.C., to deliver a warning to the peoples of Earth. The anti-aggression message comes with a twist.
The Case of the Missing Masterpiece
by Terrance Dicks (Blackie & Son, 1978)
This first book of the Baker Street Irregulars series shows Terrance Dicks to be right at home in a London setting. Unlike his Doctor Who novelisations, the Holmes-inspired mystery is rich in background detail and characterisation, its investigation offering plenty of suspense!
Agaton Sax and the Colossus of Rhodes
by Nils-Olof Franzén; ill. Quentin Blake (André Deutsch, 1972) [From the Swedish Agaton Sax och den bortkomne mr Lispington, 1966]
There’s plenty of fun to be had following Swedish super sleuth Agaton Sax in his masterly pursuit of the world’s most dastardly criminals. The focus on bureaucratic filibuster and a sequence of muddles and misunderstandings, however, renders the plot a little scattershot.