The Last Boy Scout
dir. Tony Scott (1991)
The film that, in development stage, donated its name to Die Hard (and could have been as big had it been made first). A serviceable action plot with Bruce Willis, plenty of tough guy moments and more memorable repartee than its precursor.
The Death of Grass
by John Christopher (Michael Joseph, 1956); audiobook read by William Gaminara (Audible, 2011)
A straightforward but fluently written quest narrative, disquieting in its content. Christopher is something of a forgotten master, and posits an all-too-real apocalypse brought about by systemic crop failure. The plot twists grimly to follow humanity’s rapid and inevitable loss of civilisation.
Doctor Who: Dimensions in Time
by John Nathan-Turner and David Roden (BBC, 1993)
A 14-minute charity special mashup with EastEnders seems a rather sad way for Doctor Who to have celebrated its 30th anniversary. The interchanging multi-Doctor, multi-companion plot is impossibly silly, but amidst all the rattling snippets some of the acting is surprisingly good.
So Long, and Thanks for All the Fish
by Douglas Adams (Pan, 1984); audiobook read by Martin Freeman (Macmillan, 2012)
The ideas, as ever, are ingenious, and Adams is at the top of his game in reuniting Arthur Dent with the erstwhile-destroyed Planet Earth. The story, however, such as it is, hitchhikes half-heartedly while secretly yearning to become a Dirk Gently novel.
Heavy Weather
by P. G. Wodehouse (Little, Brown and Company, 1933); audiobook read by Martin Jarvis (Canongate, 2008)
Less a sequel, more a direct continuation of ‘Summer Lightning’. Wodehouse takes up the strands again and concocts a book-length encore of comedic misfortunes, double-crossings and plans hatched at cross purposes. Martin Jarvis narrates with dignity but over-eggs some of the voices.
Guns, Germs, and Steel: The Fates of Human Societies
by Jared Diamond (W. W. Norton, 1997); audiobook read by Doug Ordunio (Random House, 2011)
A scientific work without literary pretentions (the audiobook plods along to an almost soporific extent), but the flow of the argument and the weight of evidence are hard to dispute. Title notwithstanding, Diamond convincingly reduces human history down to accidents of geography.
The Professionals #7: Hiding to Nothing
by Kenneth Bulmer [as Ken Blake] (Sphere, 1980)
This tie-in novel features three of the better Professionals episodes but becomes increasingly confused in the telling. In the second story, Bulmer makes no effort to distinguish between a plethora of non-regular characters. In the third, he muddles up Bodie and Doyle!
The Giraffe and the Pelly and Me
by Roald Dahl; ill. Quentin Blake (Jonathan Cape, 1985)
Roald Dahl is always imaginative but this must be his most delightful story, free from the dark themes so characteristic elsewhere. There is nothing here but crazy, cute, happy fun… and as ever the writing is perfectly paired with Quentin Blake’s illustrations.
The Complete Peanuts: 1991 to 1992
by Charles M. Schulz (Fantagraphics Books, 2014)
Despite Schulz’s at times self-indulgent format experimentations, Peanuts in the 90s starts to feel a little tired. (Snoopy’s cookie fixation, for instance, disappoints as a recurring punchline.) Nevertheless, there is much here to like. Only by his own benchmark is Schulz diminished.
Final Curtain
by Ngaio Marsh (Collins, 1947); audiobook read by James Saxon (BBC, 1995)
Setting the scene is one thing, but Marsh goes so far as to leave Inspector Alleyn entirely absent for almost half the book. This, combined with a ho-hum denouement and repellent characters (laboriously portrayed), renders Final Curtain something of a damp squib.