The Gun Seller
by Hugh Laurie (Heinemann, 1996)
Hugh Laurie is a funny man, and his only novel to date — a cynical, conversational, fourth-wall-breaking take on the conspiracy/thriller genre, submitted pseudonymously to the publisher — is very witty, very British, and a very accomplished romp, boldly self-deprecating where Bourne only bores.
Falling Down
dir. Joel Schumacher (1993)
Broken by the oppressive heat and intolerance of Los Angeles, William Foster embarks on an impromptu suburban odyssey, striking back ever more violently. Michael Douglas gives his best-ever performance in this surprisingly poignant black comedy about the way people treat each other.
The Robot Who Looked Like Me
by Robert Sheckley (Sphere, 1978)
A short fiction collection in which the reader is promised (and given) satire, inventiveness and humour, but also off-the-cuff storytelling, an intrusive sexual focus, a name writer’s complacency and maddening, devil-may-care flights of fancy that lead nowhere under the guise of surrealism.
Jonathan Creek, Series 1
by David Renwick (BBC, 1997)
Jonathan Creek is a detective with Holmes-like deductive abilities, cajoled and manipulated into sleuthing by a self-serving journalist less sympathetic than any Watson figure. The protagonist is quietly compelling and the mysteries beguiling, albeit at times through an improbable marrying of circumstances.
Only You Can Save Mankind
by Terry Pratchett (Doubleday, 1992)
The aliens in Johnny’s computer game are real, in eye-opening contrast to his dissociated home life and the Gulf War’s televised entertainment. The concept entices but the execution feels hurried. Moreover, Pratchett’s twelve-year-olds remain in now incongruous accord with the early 1990s.
Mystery Men
dir. Kinka Usher (1999)
A rare instance of a spoof that takes itself seriously enough to be funny, Mystery Men follows the exploits of wannabe superheroes the Shoveller (hits people with a shovel), the Blue Raja (throws cutlery) and Mr Furious (loses his temper a lot).
Who on Earth is Tom Baker?
by Tom Baker (HarperCollins, 1997)
Although Tom Baker’s autobiography is by no means a bad read, it does (excepting the preamble, which promises at least a measure of absurdism) make for an unremittingly grim read, Baker occupying a headspace far removed from the comforts of Doctor Who.
Time Bandits
dir. Terry Gilliam (1981)
Gilliam’s impressive cinematography (on only $5,000,000) is wasted on an overlong, distended historical fantasy that tries to reel in both adults and children but leaves both groups unsatisfied. The Python-esque humour seems forced and the plot piecemeal in predating Bill & Ted.
Doctor Who: The Ghosts of N-Space
by Barry Letts (BBC Radio, 1996)
Unfortunately the gratified nostalgia of having a new Third Doctor adventure after twenty-one years, even with strong performances by Jon Pertwee and Elisabeth Sladen, could not make up for the manifest shortcomings (namely, dire minor characters and plot) of this audio adventure.
The Seventh Man: My Part in the Defection Scandal
by Geoffrey T. Alsop, as told to Graeme Garden (Eyre Methuen, 1981)
Judging from this clever satire on official deniability, in which a senior MI6 operative misinterprets and overlooks at every hapless turn (and even unwittingly participates in) the now-infamous defection of British diplomats Burgess and Maclean, Graeme Garden should have written more novels.