Showing posts with label TV. Show all posts
Showing posts with label TV. Show all posts

Friday, April 17

Oh dear, back again.

TV update

Well, I'm continuing to ignore the Apprentice whilst tuning into Holby City and the odd Eastenders (and isn't it) so still not quite steady on my high horse.

I would say Mad Men continues to be the biggest lure to the Box in any one week. Sharp as ever, and whilst I'm starting to feel like joining Betty for her large glasses of red wine (which appear every time she finds herself sitting around in her white negligee – now that's a stain waiting to happen) as the unfulfilled/betrayed housewife ennui circles on and on, you have to applaud the show that can also fit in that absolutely perfect shot of Joan rubbing her red raw shoulders at the end of an unappreciated head-held-high and body-held-in day at the office. Elizabeth Moss continues to do everything by almost doing nothing at all, and the recent Ken/Sal tease was played just right. I'm still not quite sure about Colin Hanks' guitar-playing priest, but I'll sit back and see how it develops.

I started to watch Skellig, the Easter special on Sky One. Sure, it's a family film, but who can resist a cast of Tim Roth, Jon Simm, Kelly MacDonald and one-of-those-kids-from-Son-of-Rambow (Bill Milner)? Sadly I got bored 15 minutes in. I know, I know , I'm usually the uber-advocate of “don't judge 'til you've finished it” and even then I like to be tactful. But on the other hand, I'm increasingly feeling I need to reduce the amount of time spent sitting in front of the ol' telly and poor Skellig has suffered at the hand of this latest policy. Tsk. Equally I'm afraid Robin Hood has gone the same way after I spent the first five minutes of the new season in stitches (very childishly) at the new hairlengths of our eponymous hero and his rival Guy, and their sudden inability to speak at any level below “roar”.

Doctor Who was watched of course, with all the attention I could muster. But then that's more of a religion that a past-time isn't it?

I still have “Five Minutes of Heaven” sitting on my iPlayer so verdict on that to come.

More to follow.

Sunday, November 23

Glued

...to the screen, that is. I had to giggle at a repeat of the great Doctor Who 'Wire' episode that so royally (haha) took the piss out of us telly addicts.

So has anything been worth watching recently? I can't comment on Einstein and Eddington yet, as it's still sitting on the iplayer. Little Dorrit has also passed me by, though that wasn't a conscious avoidance. I certainly approve of the Dickens revival on the Beeb when it could have just been more Generation Game-type entertainment, or worse, Pop Idol...

The Devil's Whore is worth tuning in to just to laugh at the title (not quite in the Channel 5 realm of unsubtlety, but then, what is?). Performances are generally good, and visually I think a good bit of work went into making it look pretty cinematic, hooray. Some critics have commented that it doesn't quite seem to know what genre it's aiming for – historical drama, period romp, surreal biopic (the devil himself tends to appear occasionally lurking unsteadily on tree branches and Christ Church's roof...)? I'm a fan of mixing it all up a bit though and finding it all rather good fun. I wasn't utterly convinced by Sexby's (played by John Simm...oh shush, that's not the only reason I'm watching) instant attraction to our heroine, viewed as she was across a windy courtyard. Sure Angelica's a gutsy feminist-out-of-water who doesn't mind a good fight, but he didn't know that from one second of silk clad giggling, so it's just lusting like any other bloke at Court at that point. Never mind, he gets to still hang around being broody, and waiting for it all to kick off (not his exact words), whilst a young dashing Cromwell (played by Dominic West. Who may have been the other reason) and other revolutionary chums give the gentry what for. And let's face it, Andrea Riseborough is just fantastic in every way so far. Did they just pull her out of a painting? Great choice.

Just when I was lamenting the loss of Breaking Bad on a Sunday night, FX have come up with John from Cincinnati which sounds like a Paramount sitcom, but is another strange HBO genreless picking. Lots of swearing, drug abuse, suicide attempts and trafficking of illegal immigrants goes hand in hand with random levitations, naive-alieny-visitors spouting protentous offerings and, last but by no-means least, a helluva lot of surfing. Yeah, I'm staying tuned for a bit...

I saw Quantum of Solace a few weeks ago, but other than to say it was enjoyable but not incredible, I'll let people make up their own minds.

Oh dear. Empire Strikes Back is on. Is it really worth spending a couple of hours of your life watching a film you've probably seen 10 times already? Hmm....Well, I'm finding myself hooked on the Beeb's Merlin so there's obviously no sense left in me for rational arguments when it comes to my TV viewing. It's not even as if I'm snowbound this weekend unlike many I'm sure. Tsk, tsk.

I'd like to add that as of this week I will have been to the theatre twice in a fortnight, so I'm not completely devoid of non-Sky+ based culture this winter. No, not completely...

Wednesday, November 12

I'm making lots of pointless and uninteresting "I can't *believe* it's mid-November!" comments at the moment. Most evenings seem to be whizzing by without anything to distinguish them from one another, except maybe the TV schedule. But maybe that's just bad weather and the occasional winter bug for you.

November 5th however was enticing enough to get many of us out and about for Bonfire Night. Time Out had identified about half a dozen big displays on the Wednesday, and we'd picked Southwark Park for supposedly having it all - fireworks, food, entertainment etc. In actuality it had a display that seemed to last about 3 mins (including a very slow beginning), three hot food vans with huge queues, and nothing whatsoever to keep you in the park once the fourth minute came along. Very very dissapointing :-(. I've never been more nostalgic to the old evenings at my primary school!

So with all these nights in front of the box, what's been going on? Breaking Bad came to an abrupt halt (writer's strike, or just a short season?) which is going to leave my Sunday evenings a bit desolate.

Dead Set was great fun, grade A gore, and hats off to whoever okayed the nightly space in the schedule. Charlie Brooker's name is certainly becoming known in wider circles. All the Big Brother cameos were brilliant, although I was happy not to notice most of them :D

Heroes carries on like a bad holiday season : yet another surprise family relation is rolled out each episode, haha. My funny bone was definitely tickled by Hiro's canteena reference a couple of weeks back, the puppet-guy brought a nicely creepy element to the rogue's gallery, and it's always nice to see Peter running around playing the bad-ass with his shirt off. Afraid to say though that I was unconvinced by Sylar's volte-face, and the Suresh storyling is too much of a rip-off of The Fly for me (okay, let's call it an 'homage'). Tall Blonde Hero Girl, in whatever incarnation she is in this season, still seems a weak link compared to all the fun of the fair possible with the Parkman character. Anyone who wasn't A-list in high school though is surely delighted at the knowledge that the Cheerleader will in years to come be embracing her inner goth.

I've been tuning into Grey's Anatomy s.4 a bit more recently, but it's a love-hate thing as Meredith's tritevoiceovers piss me off *almost* as much as Carrie's in SATC.
But then, I never miss a Holby City, so maybe my opinion doesn't rate in most people's eyes :D.

Wednesday, October 29

Baby it's cold outside

By London standards anyway. Brr.

FYI Breaking Bad continues to be excellent - the last couple of episodes have been focusing more on family relationships, and the two main characters' struggles as individuals, which has been a good counter to the crime-caper elements of the opening eps. The cooking should be back next week though, with the stakes a lot clearer in the viewer's mind. We have two characters who both want control of their lives - "a choice", as Walt's brilliant explanation went this week (once he had the Talking Pillow). He wants to choose how to live what life he has left. Jesse wants to choose to Just Say No, but is slipping fast. If you want to catch up on the season so far (we're only a handful of eps in) you can download from iTunes.

I checked out the new season (seven) of Spooks this week. Whilst it's lovely to see the Beeb have permitted Richard Armitage to play a grown-up (with Russian-prison-tats and everything) after all that PVC-clad angsting in Robin Hoody (hey, I hold my hands up: I've seen every episode), the storylines fail to convince any more. Don't get me wrong, when Spooks started (years and years before 24 thank you *very* much) it was lovely dark and edgy stuff. These days though Joe Normal can get the Terror Alert level (red? amber? a nice duck-egg blue?) 24/7 on satellite news. We're all a bit clued up (or as clued up as they want us to be mwahaha) for dialogue basically going "we think the Russians are about to unashamedly attack Great Britain!" "Oh really? Cripes. We need some intel - why don't you go and do naughty things to that oligarch Ros and see if he doesn't tell you everything." Maybe a few more data-sticks going missing might help the authenticity....

On a different note I have already ranted once today about the press coverage on the funding 'crisis' for HE in the UK for next academic year. So I'll just repeat myself:

"Tsk. The media seem to hate universities. They simultaneously object to the 'social engineering' of 50%+ participation in HE by evidencing how badly it all works and is 'dumbing down' education (e.g. no funding, students 'w/o a word of english' all 'sailing through degrees', degrees in Beckhamology etc.), whilst conversely still going for that old chestnut of saying they are still bastions of elitism and unfair practice (Laura Spence -poor girl for becoming an abbreviation for post hoc ergo proctor hoc arguments for unfair admission-, admissions tests, bad statistics on state school participation). Tsk I say. Tsk."

Rant done. I'm sure Mike Baker will do it more justice. He's a sensible, well-informed gent.

Tuesday, October 28

Darkness descends..

..and other such observations to enthuse you as we get dragged kicking and screaming (literally, if the Hallowe'en costumes are any good) into November.

As we leave work in the dark, the temptation to start the TV/DVD-viewing-wrapped-up-on-sofa-with-hot-drinks-and-optional-blanket the minute you get in at night is only going to get worse. For me, it was pretty bad anyway but then I'm a bit geeky. It really doesn't help if you're in any kind of on-line DVD rental scheme because that little envelope will be jumping up and slobbering on you, yapping for attention, the second you push open the door (now that's what I call 'special features'). "Watch me, watch me!" comes the muffled-by-packaging cry, "because if you get me back in the post tomorrow you can have *another one* the next day! F*ck Christmas, this rocks!".

It really, really doesn't help if your rental list is full of sci-fi series because each disc will have a cosy 3 or 4 hours of viewing time rather than the good ol' 90-120 mins film. Luckily for everyone, I recognise that Stargate remains either a)completely uninteresting to the average TV viewer or b) watched ad nauseum by the real fans, so I won't bother commenting on my attempts to get throught the 'backlog' of season 10. 'Scapers will understand the continuing interest.

Box-sets are evil things, and I must add, not helpful image-wise for singletons. Mad Men sits stylishly and patiently waiting for us to get to episode four (flatmates are useful things for stopping you gorging yourself in one sitting). The Wire was a faithful friend, but having to watch the final season on Sky+ carries the irritating ads and reminder (as you scroll through the menu) that there really are *other things to watch*. I've just been handed Arrested Development. Good gods, and this is addition to the joys of the new Autumn/Winter season.

It all rather begs the questions:
1) What on earth is anyone going to get me for Christmas with this abundunce of goodies already to hand?
2) How much blame for my TV addition can be put onto people who keep cancelling proper, sociable, public-place plans on me? (she says in jest. Sort of.) Some are born geek, some achieve geekness, and some have geekness thrust upon them.

Must. get. life. pronto.

Tuesday, October 14

Happy viewing

Today I am boring and can't be bothered to describe birthday celebrations (not mine, but good fun), or upcoming plans (film festival, gigs, dinners, parties). I haven't watched the news in days, so no astute or enlightening commentary available from me. I also won't admit that I spent all of glorious Sunday's weather sitting in trying very hard not to finish Season Four Battlestar Galactica (which is as good as if not better than the Wire. Oh yeah. Now you're interested.) I've also neglected to install my rather run-of-the-mill picture editing software, so I still haven't done anything to this really boring layout. Oops.

But, instead, my views on new-ish TV:

After three episodes I'm happy to confirm for you all that Breaking Bad (currently showing on FX) is fantastic and you should all be watching it. Yes, I know it doesn't look sleek and glamorous. Or even uber-gritty. In fact, yes, it conveys all the dry and dusty drudgery of middle-class white New Mexico suburbia. You may also have noticed that it follows the continuing adventures of (fanfare) a middle-aged high school Chemistry teacher called Walter. Played by the Malcolm-in-the-Middle dad. Did I mention Walter also has terminal lung cancer? Sexy starting point, huh? Well, as soon as our teacher decides that he might as well start using his skills to make crystal meth (better than all the other amateurs in town), it gets well...think Falling Down rumbling rage, with a dose of Very Bad Things calamity, and a smidgen of American Beauty frustration and wit. Or maybe, just think about one of those nights we all get once in a while when things just keep getting worse and you have only yourself to blame. If you really appreciate a show that will take the time and energy to portray a hastening descent into chaos of one man with a jet-black sense of humour (episode three opens with the two main characters wrapped up in marigolds and aprons cleaning the floor. Oh wait, they're cleaning up the quasi-liquified remains of a meth-dealer. Which fell through the ceiling when the bath of acid ate through itself. Because someone didn't pay attention in chemistry class), then please tune in. It only promises to get better as episode three introduces flashbacks of vibrant, passionate Walter in his younger days, juxtaposed with his current grim and sober choices of his middle-aged dying self, to fabulous effect. The acting is great, the script is fantastic, and hey you'll learn stuff about Chemistry. And that “coin-flip is sacred!”

John Adams is sweeping us along nicely. The contrast of Adams' blundering attempts at diplomacy in the European political arena, with the rallying passion and defiance that shaped the Declaration of Independence in last week's episode is well played. After watching Adams' rising influence over previous episodes we share his discomfort with suddenly being sidelined from the action. The sense of family sacrifice reaches a well-developed climax.

I read about Eli Stone a while back : Johnny Lee Miller stars as a lawyer with visions. Sans dancing babies, but still with singing popstars. Just more saving-the-world (but not in a pending-apocalypse Dead Zone way). Okay, so yes it's a bit like a Boston Legal/Ally McBeal/Medium mega-mix just with the classic Sci-fi elements thrown in (sidekick with sagely words and advice on the new 'powers', the need for secrecy and the awkward/guess-it's-just-geeky-me-Clark-Kent moments that come when that secrecy is threatened). But despite the slightly annoying presence of Victor Garber playing his usual authority figure, and the question mark over whether a girl who looks like Natasha Henstridge would every really go out with a guy who looks like Johnny Lee Miller (with slicked down hair, and an undeniable geeky air despite his former 'hot shot' status), I like it. Yes I know I like a lot of crap that ends up on Sci-Fi. But this seems very self-aware of it's own clichés, it's got a good pace, and some surprisingly sharp lines and good banter among all the fluff (Episode 3's discussion of how Eli's car had been towed, continued to note that he called it the 'Millennium Falcon' and always made the appropriate 'zooming' noises as he changes lanes. Shamelessly referential, and I like it). I'll keep watching, even if some of the 'visions' and subsequent 'oh shit how do I explain my strange behaviour' moments might be worthy on occasion of the Sky+ fast forward.

Tune in next week. Ha. Ha.

Sunday, October 5

and then there was September

Last month started with far too much drinking and dinners for my bank balance to be happy with. The last Friday of August saw a big work booze-up at the ever welcoming local. The following weeks however were comprised of much-needed one-on-one catch-ups with various friends (and hyphens apparantly). A return to a friendly, speedy and reliable haunt in Soho(where they a) demand that you have another go at pronouncing your order if you didn't get it right the first time and b) shake their heads and sigh, but nevertheless will put cheese on a fish-based pasta if you ask really really nicely), was shortly followed by a nice little evening in the window seat at the Camden Bar and Kitchen (friendly staff, great vibe). Two days later I was off on a trip down memory lane (in a good way, not a PTS way, as is often the case with Oxford haha) to see Maya for an afternoon of lunch and tea at the Nose Bag (complete with afternoon stroll to the river). Then a Monday night treat of wine, risotto and tiramisu at the Charlotte Street favourite Ooze (the last time we had gone, we figured out half way home that due to the bill-splitting we'd over-tipped by about ten pound. Ka-ching) was warmly welcomed before taking half a week or so off work for a much needed holiday and trip back to the midlands to see the family. Then, just before our Freshers' week I was back at the Camden Bar and Kitchen to drink far far far too much wine with Nat (I'm sure this only made my political commentary all the more sophisticated, and well-reasoned, right??).

Now at this point, I was only half way through the month and my debit card may have been silently whimpering. Like the callous bitch I am I just demanded more service of it, ignoring it's plaintive cries. Sure enough, stubbornness was rewarded by Emma finding a fabulous Top Table deal to go to Pont de la Tour. Yes, that's just a restaurant next to Tower Bridge, called Tower Bridge, but in French. The imagination of the owners obviously knows no bounds. Nonetheless we had a great table outside, overlooking the Bridge all brilliantly lit up to the left, with the collapsing (we laugh only so as not to cry) Canary Wharf to the right. True, the patio heaters on full were a bit (very) naughty. The food was superb (Chloé the ex-veggy to my right tucking into a bleeding bit of cow-flesh that really shouldn't have tempted me as much as it did...), service great, piano-playing entertainment gloriously cliché, and the company (Em, Hector, Chlo) brilliant as always. Being quite swish, it was also a welcome opportunity to finally put on a dress and heels for a night out (which I *really* miss from Uni days). My, didn't we all feel beautiful and smug. Shameful. The walk (zig-zagging, admittedly) back along the river was a perfect end to the night.

Don't get me wrong, it wasn't fine dining last month (!). I was introduced to the camaraderie and general delightful bitching of X-factor night at G-A-Y , complete with cocktails named after the judges (Louis Walsh is a kind of coconutty green). Now, I never normally watch X-factor, and have in fact been known to attribute to it the fate of Broken Britain on more than one occasion. It was a damn good night though, and many thanks to Tom for a lot of silliness. A return a few weeks later was (sort of) dampened by a problem with the TV feed which led to a nada-factor evening, but the cocktails remained (the important thing).

Then nothing left but for Freshers' weeks to roll out across the country, which is always a great time for getting asked the widest variety of questions in one day you can think of (everything from 'I dont' know who I am or why I'm here, but could you tell me where I'm supposed to be right now?” to “what cutlery is available in my halls” to “where can I purchase those delightful logo-d bags for life?”.

It's also a time to put names to the faces of all those applicants you've helped finally walk through the door. Well, that's the theory, but sadly doesn't really work for me as I have a horrendous memory for faces (and boy's names, strangely). From what I've read my facial recognition and retention is probably about the same as that of a two year old child. I suppose then that f I can associate you with chocolate pudding or plastic blocks you probably stand a better chance than most. I have to therefore spend my life either a) going around smiling over-familiarly with everyone which just unnerves those who don't know me, and are adverse to accepting me as their 'hey' girl (see here for details) or b) keeping my cool British reserve until such time as clues suggest I should really not be stand-offish with dear X who I've already been introduced to fifty-odd times (I still think the greatest victim in all this is Tim, who has far far too many friends, about 2 of whom I can ever remember. It continually gives off the impression that I don't pay any attention to them. Which isn't true. Honest.) It also means that I can never ever ever remember individual students' names. I don't have that much to do with them once they're here, so it's not vital to my job. But if you've been dealing with some of them for over two years, you feel you don't want to appear quite so dismissive...

The solution? Name-tags people. Name-tags. In a friendly font. Not comic sans though, that's just passé. Smiley faces instead of dots on the lower-case-jays are acceptable if they have one raised eyebrow to suggest a smirking cynicism.


Trips to the cinema this month: were lacking. Only one film, the Duchess, because my ma wanted to, and we thought it might be a good all round choice for a family outing. Mostly it was all very sumptuous and Keira atually quite good in the more vulnerable moments. A bit of political history was even acknowledged. Sadly though I will now be loathe to watch anything with Ralph Fiennes in every again as his face is now associated in my head with nasty rape scenes. I have the same problem with DeNiro after seeing Once upon a time in America. Oh dear. For something a bit fresher I'm looking forward to going and seeing well, at least one film as part of the Times London Film Festival in October though. I tried to get in on the Quantum of Solace screening but missed it, and Frost/Nixon was a bit pricey as it was part of the opening night gala. Nevermind. I've also been very keen to see The Fall since I first saw the amazing trailers months ago, but it has shamefully limited showings.

TV this month: Well, Dexter Season Two finished on FX. It was as guilty-pleasure entertaining as usual, although I was slightly annoyed at how long it took for anyone to wonder about the immigration status of the the pyromaniac British chick (played by Jaime Murray of “Hustle” fame in a bare-all role) waltzing around Miami in her self-employed thief/artist way. Making the character British seemed a strange and distracting choice, unless they were purposely going for the 'exotic' contrast to Rita's homely Americana girl-next-door (who would have thought in the BtVS/Angel era that 'homely' would every have been used for a Julie Benz part?). Or maybe Murray doesn't do accents? Ah well, I'm sure such things are described in DVD audio commentaries, but I'm not that much of a fan.

We also finished Season Three (the 'schools' one) of the Wire The Wire which raised the bar of excellence yet again.It really is the best thing on TV but you must watch it right through from Season one episode one to get the best out of it/in any way understand what anyone is talking about. By all appearances it is militantly anti-exposition which just makes me appreciate it all the more. We're on to Season Four now, but as this is just sitting on the Sky+ box rather than on DVD we have the irritation of ads (don't get me wrong though: I'd rather ad breaks still existed than be faced with even more product placement). I am very very glad Time and I watch this together, because if I had free reign I would watch the whole box set back-to-back in a day, and probably not savour and appreciate it half as much. Flatmates are obviously there to bring you back from the brink and say,no, you *can* wait twenty four hours until you see those opening credits again...

What else? Oh yes, we were kindly leant AMC's Mad Men (ta Pete) which is a bit of a slow burned but I've been loving it from the start: again, patience is a virtue.Their next big gamble,Breaking Bad, has only just started over here, so I'll comment later.

When I was out in Washington DC for a poorly-chaired conference in March, I caught a bit of the new HBO mini-series John Adams with Paul Giamatti. This started last week on Sky and is extremely good, keeping it's focus on the political process and decisions around the declaration of Independence whilst not disregarding the violence that is normally the focus of the historical 'patriotic' US blockbuster.

What was happening in the world this month: Well, a lot, and hopefully you were there, and paying attention. For political and economical commentary I'll merely refer you to Nat's blog. I may start putting my BBC news postings here rather than facebook, but we'll see.