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.
Guards! Guards!
by Terry Pratchett; read by Nigel Planer (Isis, 1995)
[first published by Gollancz, 1989]
Some of the dialogue feels slightly laboured when read aloud (a small misgiving), but in the grand scale of all things magical and satirical this is the perfect introduction to Pratchett’s Discworld series. Planer handles with aplomb both narrative comedy and characterisation.
The Blues Brothers
dir. John Landis (1980)
Instantly recognisable and eminently quotable; musically unimpeachable and with widespread cult appeal; spectacularly over-the-top yet brilliantly underplayed: band-on-the-run redemption comedy (and Chicago time capsule) The Blues Brothers must go down as one of the greatest movies — certainly the greatest musical — ever made.
Alice in Wonderland
dir. Jonathan Miller (BBC, 1966)
An unwatchably surreal black-and-white adaptation in no way redeemed by its bevy of renowned actors and music by Ravi Shankar. Fifty years on and for one sixtieth of the time invested, viewers should YouTube ‘Prince of Parties’ by Flight of the Conchords.
The Official C.I.A. Manual of Trickery and Deception
by John Mulholland (Unpublished, 1953)
ed. H. Keith Melton and Robert Wallace (Hardie Grant, 2010)
Although the editors try to spruik the significance of two instructional manuals commissioned from magician John Mulholland by the CIA during the Cold War, closer inspection reveals the most interesting facet of these works to be that they were written at all.