Electric Dreams II: The Return Of Retrowave

New Ways, New Ways, I Dream Of Wires

“My only exposure to electronic music before this had been Kraftwerk, but they were always trying to be machine-like… Then The Human League came along and their music had a human feel to it. It worked for me” – Gary Numan.

“One of my friends told me how genius it was that at the start of Cars [1979] there is just one note that stays and stays and stays,” recalled affable high-flying Electro Overlord Gary NumanI had to break it to them that when I was in the studio I started playing the first note and couldn’t think what to do next. I wasn’t a genius at all, just bereft of ideas.”

Ha! Such a self-effacing Overlord.

He paved the way for the innovative New Wave electronic pop outfits of the ’80s, who, in turn, have helped influence the current music genre guaranteed to lift my spirits: Retrowave, aka Synthwave.

Can’t go wrong wth a roster of retro vibes.

Thus, this selection includes just some of the audio pleasures to have sustained me during the last few weeks of alternating levels of creativity. Compiling the first instalment of this series turned out to be such a blast so this further indulgence was in order. Would like to think that you can find some gems in this collection that can inspire your writing too.

What better way to begin than with Miami Vice: the epitome of class ’80s TV.

Crockett is a consistently good Retrowave artist – and knows how to set the right mood when my writing kicks in – in fact, one or two of his tracks have single-handedly inspired pieces of my fiction!

With this vid, all me groovy ’80s small screen memories come flooding back; you’re watching and all of a sudden – @ 00:38: BAM! there they are: Crockett and Tubbs – woo-hoo!! The boys are back in town! Together in Electric Dreams…?

“…I was always convinced that electronic music wasn’t just another genre; it was a different way of approaching the composition and production of music. It was about the idea that music is not only made up of notes and harmonies, but could be made with sound…” – Jean Michel Jarre.  

There are a least three YouTube channels constantly loading new material on a daily base; the quality and diversity on increasing offer  is simply breathtaking – a mighty fine accompaniment to my working and creative sessions.

Such a gem starts off sounding akin to one of John Carpenter’s more creepy movie scores before transmogrifyng into something by Gary Numan.

Surely, that is high praise, indeed? 

This is glorious: 

I have heard the music of the future – don’t look for anything else” – Brian Eno. 

Cosmic!

Not only one of the most scrumptious words in the English language, it always presents mighty fine and dandy excuse to explore the good stuff – and escape from the bad. 

Synthwave is the only genre producing the kind of spacebound sounds that help Brad achieve just that.

From Turboslash to Turbo Knight – let’s face it: it’s these ecstatic moments of beautiful symmetry that keep bringing you back to Bradscribe.

Isn’t it? 

This track is accompanied by some Japanese anime – always expect the unexpected on this site!

LOVE the deeeep intro to this – far out, man…

“…I went back to the big, original Moog and did everything electronicallyIn a computer. In ’77… I suppose I helped modernise the sound of pop…” – Giorgio Moroder. 

“I get credit for being a pioneer,” Numan continued. “But you open a door and it allows other people who have got great ideas to come through and take it even further. You hear other people doing things and you think: That’s great!’”

Well, what an amazing door.

Even better – heartening, even – to know that a considerable range otalented auteurs of audio awesomeness have seized the opp to not only revive ’80s’ pop vibes, but draw upon that decade’s eclectic mix of SF movies (and their soundtracks!), videos and other media to create these retro-wonders. 

This week, one of my more intelligible spam Comments (for one of my comic reviews, of all things) read: 

“Built-in grooves to connect numerous units together.”

Yes, that is all it said…

Would like to think that some really snazzy built-in grooves have been assembled here for your enjoyment this evening.

This is another Synthwave artist who can do no wrong @ th mo – there’s no ace like HOME: 

Something new was in the air with electronic sounds. We were a younger generation. We came up with different textures” – Ralf Hutter (Kraftwerk). 

“It all began, appropriately enough, in science fiction,” wrote Jon Savage, in a blisteringly compelling exploration – published five years ago – of the development of electronic music. 

He went on to confirm a personal belief held for some time that: “…the possibility of other worlds – and the transformation achieved of leaving this one – is a sure-fire way of abstracting from any problems that one has on this Earth…”

At this point my text rambles into something utterly profound – but hey! – it’s getting late, and everyone just wants to party.

Don’t they…? 

“…Annnd it’s half past groovy – you’re listening to Bradscribe FM, beaming LIVE from the Cosmic Cakery across the Outer Rim Territories – playing the platters that matter on the station where the fun never stops!

“Get on the good foot, pop-pickers!”

“…On the wall back there is a black panel. Blinky yellow light. You see it? There’s a quarnex battery behind it. Purplish box. Green wires. To get into that watch tower, I definitely need it…

“I got one plan, and that plan requires this frickin’ quarnex battery, so FIGURE IT OUT!” – Rocket Raccoon. 

And if this Third Rock From The Sun is all too much, you can always escape with Brad into some right snazzy realms of the imagination.

Where else in the blogosphere can you jump at such a chance?

As far as the universe is concerned, we are but fleeting and randomly assembled collections of energy and matter, forever foraging for greater meaning in our lives…

(Aha! Told you he was going to slip something hi-brow in…)

The cute but courageousScribe may NOT hold all the unswers ye seek, but what DOES matter is that we don’t waste what precious little energy we have.

Sweet dreams…

“Keep your ‘lectric eye on me, babe
Put your ray gun to my head
Press your space face close to mine, love
Freak out in a moonage daydream, oh yeah!”
David Bowie. 

“Mind Your Head, Sleepy Chicken”: Mishaps With Creativity In The Age Of Outrage

The Daze In The “Life” Of A Flustered Writer 

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The Ancient One – “Arrogance and fear still keep you from learning the simplest and most significant lesson of all. ”

Dr. Stephen Strange – “Which is?”

The Ancient One – “It’s not about you.”

“We don’t care. We don’t really care,” retorted the script editor (whose name shall remain undisclosed to protect MY innocence). “The amount of money we’re going to make globally, I mean, 70 percent of our audience is not going to be seeing this in English. And it doesn’t really matter.”

This – one of umpteen rejections foisted upon me over the years – just confirms what has been niggling my noddle lately. Such a rebuke – stern but to be expected – is, essentially, cancelling out my worth as a wordsmith. On a major motion picture. 

The prospect of movies limping along with next to no script does not exactly come as a great shock to me. My intentions of making it in the movie industry appear to be growing thinner by the day. Sure, it’s a classic case of not what you know, but who you know. Believe me, rejections here, ignorance there, and my resilience well and truly wrung – Brad would prefer not to mingle with such types…

Anyway…

Apologies for not publishing a Post sooner. But you would not believe the ridiculous setbacks encountered on my travails! While my concentration gets lost amidst the daily hustle and bustle of 21st century strife, too many people around me are losing their tempers all too easily – upon offering to help, their only rebuke comes in the disagreeable form of “Get lost.” Or (coarse) words to that effect…

Why, oh why, so much unrestrained hostility? Don’t tell me: this is the Age Of Outrage. 

My problems are probably ten times worst than theirs, but you don’t see me blowing my stack. However, considering what your correspondent Has Had To Go Through This Past Two Weeks it’s a mystery he hasn’t blown it several times already! Thankfully – between you and me – years in a Southeast Asian temple Being At One with my Inner Cha-Cha, closely supervised by a half-human half-pangolin guru have mentally prepared me for my nonchalant return to what they laughably call Western “Civilization.”

Apart from the obligatory technical glitches, trying to carry out research in the Public Library: someone has lost/misplaced a required book; then, someone else broke wind in the Self-Help Section forcing the whole bally building to be evacuated… 

At my former Alma Mater, my luck fares no better; due to the heightened security around the City, my status as Alumnus does nothing to persuade the bouncers @ Reception. Handsome? By jove, always! But “suspicious”? Do me a favour…  

In other news: my novel has stalled, primarily after studying the latest book survey revealing that two-thirds of novel readers are women. Set in a 12th century abbey, the most horrifying aspect of this medieval sci-fi adventure is the head-scratching realization that it has NO female characters! This needs to be readdressed, of course, but after a disconcerting fall in the Stats from this site, this makes me seriously ponder: will anyone want my novel…? Perhaps the answer lies in converting it into a graphic novel – but then again, my artwork (normally quite therapeutic) has not gone as snazzy as hoped…

The case continues…

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“For, in their savage ignorance, they feel only hatred for any among them who may seem… different! They long for peace, yet gird for war! They search for love, yet harbour hate!” – The Silver Surfer. 

“By living life for itself, don’t you see? Deriving pleasure from the gift of pure being,” remarked the nameless Martian, last custodian of his long-vanished civilization. 

Following the sickening terrorism act a few months ago in Manchester (where my degree was gained!), and again as the appalling news from Virginia broke over this past weekend, this beautiful sequence of dialogue (from The Martian Chronicles 1979 TV adaptation, written by Richard Matheson) returned to my fevered mind.

All too easily, these sage Martian words are simply ignored. Hate, regrettably, has become far too common and rampant. Rather than wallow in the throes of despair, these atrocities invigorate me to produce a unique brand of positive, entertaining and thoroughly wholesome fare at a more exponential rate.

Out of the multifarious dark and evil acts committed around this Pale Blue Dot, projects of ever-increasing worth and vitality have prevailed. Consider this impressive history: disillusioned by the collapse of the short-lived New Republic in 17th century England, James Milton wrote Paradise Lost; disturbed by the horrors he experienced at the Western Front, John Ronald Reuel Tolkien fought off the nightmares by “escaping” to Middle-Earth and creating an epic fantasy saga called The Lord Of The Rings. 

In turn, yours truly has had to stem an incessant surge in personal, social and economic problems by summoning the last vestiges of his resilience to produce evermore entertaining reams of writing (that you will enjoy here shortly!). 

With nine out of ten of my applications, enquiries and job pitches “lost” or ignored, this blogging platform remains the only means by which anyone and everyone Can See What Brad Can Do…

Keep Calm and Carry On Writing…

“The Destiny of Man is to unite, not to divide. If you keep on dividing you end up as a collection of monkeys throwing nuts at each other out of separate trees” – T.H. White.  

“You don’t want [readers] to read your story, you want them to feel your story.”

This writers’ tip has held particular resonance these past few months. Having vowed to pay more attention to my levels of description, injecting all the right feels into my fiction no longer pose any problems. Considering what we have had to endure over the past eighteen difficult months, my work can now exude a heavier, more personal, more loaded edge. 

Whenever a piece of my fiction fails, (and too many pieces have floundered by the wayside recently) one quote from Confucius instantly comes to mind: Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall.”

To me, if my “path of creation” is hindered, an alternative route is taken… but my physical and mental batteries are now so depleted that finding the energy and enthusiasm to concoct something as ridiculously easy-peasy as a comics review devolved into an unnecessary struggle. But do not fret, my friends! 

It’s official: Brad is on the rebound!

HUZZAH!!

And: TOP tip for this month?!: “Write rubbish!”

Bingo, fella, whaddya think this writer has been doin’?! ‘Tis the only skill @ th mo at which he excels… bah!

Seriously though: the key is to settle into the right room as well as the right frame of mind. You’ll be delighted to learn that a number of intriguing new projects have emerged on my Dashboard! Granted, the first few drafts looked messy and confused – understandable, bearing in mind what woes and worries hung heavy on my mind – but, as all exterior tensions faded (meditation, plus mocha and blueberry muffins, usually help) and my senses gradually immersed into blissful concentration, my compositions evolved into something more groovy and coherent. 

And as this ramblin’ ram-packed Post comes to a merciful close – don’t want to rant, but let me say just this: 

Cultures shape values, and those values shape history; therefore, our values shape our future. However, repugnant values have brought on these antipathetic and violent times; they have been allowed to fester by the very same factions of ignorance directly responsible for denying me my vocational and socio-economic progress.  

Politicians talk loud, but never say anything positive or progressive to help me. 

Instead, the rise of negative hypernationalist movements (regrettably a global outbreak) MUST be counteracted by RATIONAL thinkers and campaigners willing to offer a progressive values-based world vision – a different path based on UNITY across racial, gender, ethnic, and religious lines… 

Now you know: this past fortnight, Brad has been too busy freedom-fighting to blog…

Quite frankly, this evening, my head feels like an ex-Communications Director is locked inside it, yelling expletives…

Still, this migraine is worth the effort. 

In this life, it is ALWAYS PREFERABLE to create than hate…

“…Live as well as possible, expect no more. Destroy nothing, humble nothing, look for fault in nothing, leave unsullied and untouched all that is beautiful.

“Hold that which lives in all reverence, for life is given by the Sovereign Of Our Universe, given to be savoured, to be luxuriated in, to be… respected…” – The Martian.

Wheresoever you go, go with all your heart” – Confucius. 

 

 

Spider-Man: Homecoming: The Bradscribe Review

Watch Out! The Amazing Spoiler-Man Can Do Whatever A Spoiler Can!

Let’s Face It: Brad Is The Last In The Universe To See (And Review) This Blockbuster –

Let’s Discuss This (OK, Geek-Out) Like Sensible MCU Fans… WOO-HOO! LET’S DO THIS!

“One of the reasons it’s called Homecoming is because it feels right that Spider-Man can finally inhabit the full Marvel world from which he came” – Kevin Feige. 

“Can’t you just be a friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man?” Tony Stark remarks to our boy blunder: Peter Parker during Spider-Man: Homecoming – the latest entry in the phenomenal MCU franchise. By the time that underwhelming Spider-Man 3 appeared ten years ago, the franchise had become less-than-friendly, and that significantly less-than-Amazing Andrew Garfield double-ill was certainly not welcome in my neighbourhood…

Although Tom Holland (the British stage actor who excelled on London’s West End in the Billy Elliott musical) proved to be a brilliant – albeit brief – success in last year’s Captain America: Civil War, when news broke of yet another Spidey-flick it regrettably triggered my Reboot Allergy. So, not surprisingly, my reaction to Homecoming was not exactly welcoming…

However(!), the first Reviews turned out to be overwhelmingly positive; moreover, the premise of “Ferris Bueller with added webbing” clinched it for me. Besides, Marvel Studio’s uncanny knack of blowing our socks off in the wildest, most unexpected ways looks unstoppable right now.

Glad to see a Spidey movie not bogged down by any of that “with-great-power-comes-great-pretzels” malarkey from the Raimi/McGuire era. It is with tremendous joy – and relief! – that Director Jon Watts and his crew have succeeded at putting together a FUN and marvel(KABOOM!)ous time at your local popcorn parlour.

Quite simply, THIS is how a really Amazing Spider-Man movie should look like!

“You need to stop carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders” – May Parker.

“You got to get better at this part of the job…”

One factor that will be unanimously agreed is the casting of Tom Holland. Having hoofed it on the West End, he brings the required agility to do all (well, most) of his Spider-stunts. Yep, he operates in that “little grey area” pretty well!

Also, Tom Holland is – quite easily – the best big screen Peter Parker, portraying the awkward, mixed-up teen slouching along the corridors of Diversity High so well, but fairly early on, it becomes apparent that he gabbles too fast. When he gets together with best buddy Ned (Jacob Batalon), their exchanges, consisting of frantic whispering at some points, almost become unintelligible. Really liked his Extreme Interrogation voice – part of me wanted that through all the suited-up scenes! Seriously though, Holland has such a distinctive voice – surely anyone who comes into contact with Spider-Man would suss that it’s that doofus Peter Parker…? 

Apparently, it has been a long-touted aim of Head Honcho Kevin Feige to one day cross a MCU movie with a John Hughes comedy. And here it is! See Michelle (Zendaya)? That’s Ally Sheedy right there! A team of SIX writers is enough to doom any movie, but they managed to produce an entertaining package. However, the 80s vibe is not as fully realised as it could be; extra high school scenes should have been developed, especially with Michelle: an instantly endearing quirky gal who deserved additional funny lines; the script is not as sophisticated as Ferris Bueller’s Day Off or The Breakfast Club. 

Peter Parker: “But I’m nothing without this suit.”
Tony Stark: “If you’re nothing without this suit, then you shouldn’t have it.”

The rich, the powerful, like Stark, they don’t care about us! The world’s changed boys – time we changed too!” – Adrian Toomes. 

There is another awesome reason that helped push me into watching this, and that is the Vulture, played by Michael Keaton. “Fuck! They put him in a cape too?!” 😉

Rightfully enjoying a renaissance in his onscreen career, it’s a wonder that Keaton agreed to be in this at all: his third stint as a winged comic book character. Immediately, he instils a sense of menace that has otherwise been lacking from MCU villainy recently. The most extraordinary aspect regarding Adrian Toomes is how ordinary he is – an everyday guy just as frustrated and put-upon like the best of us; not only does Keaton convince, Toomes is so relatable. When Peter comes to pick up his date, you could feel a huge shudder of shock from fellow moviegoers as her father answered the door…

In his short and tender life, Brad has endured some very trying struggles, but… please, NEVER leave me alone in a car with Michael Keaton. EVER…

Not only has the “world changed,” but one quintessential element is curiously absent. Although we are mercifully spared the (exhausted) origins story, there are NO spider-senses(!) on display neither. Admittedly, this True Believer was never a big fan of that red and blue Spider-suit (it chafes me nipples), and my access to Spidey’s original comic books proved somewhat limited, but ask me to offer just one of the webhead’s defining traits and it would have to be those spider-senses.

Did the writers discard this trait intentionally?! With great reboots come great alterations? Not convinced. And certainly not chuffed that we were denied even a single tingle…

Watching Peter failing to come to terms with his new suit (voiced by Jennifer Connelly?!) is fairly amusing, and may be appreciated by this hi-tech generation (who probably ordered/paid for their popcorn via smartphone) but just shows how contentious the wilful tampering with a well-established character can be – it just doesn’t make (spider) sense. Honestly, Homecoming could have ended up with only 3 stars because of this…

Anyway, to emphasise what a shared Universe this is, having Tony Stark as the coolest – and richest – mentor an enhanced juve could have added such a groovy touch. Undeniably, the scenes that Holland and Downey Jr – ha ha, yes! – share together are among this film’s highlights.

And, oh yes, “Garry” 😉 is a blast as ever!

There is something else that would make required viewing: As prep for the role – to get a feel for American high school life – Tom (who is now 21!) posed as a student for three days – the teachers and fellow students had NO IDEA. Would love to see their faces as they watch this in the cinema and realise that that kid (soon to be a mega-star – and deservedly so!) had mingled amongst them that week…!

There were a number of LOL scenesperhaps not as many as this reviewer would have preferred; Ned, obviously, got a few chuckles (is there any other reason for his part in this?), but Aunt Hottie got the biggest roar in the auditorium during that instant-classic closing shot. In a single frame, Tom Holland’s startled expression here encapsulates the sheer entertainment value of this latest MCU triumph – it’s priceless.

 

BRADSCRIBE VERDICT: How many more of these? 😉

Tom Holland: “That’s amazing! I thought he would take a huge amount of persuading… but Rob [Downey Jr.] said yes. He loved being here – he was like a happy little kid on set.”

Tony Stark: “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that…” 

 

Zombie Sharks, A Crummy Mummy And Marky “Mark” Wahlberg: AVAST! BradRant Ahoy!!

Summer Madness?

Armed With His Trusty Trident Of Poseidon, Brad Takes Out The Trash So You Don’t Have To!

Henry Turner: “I saw her ankles.”

Captain Jack Sparrow: “You would’ve seen a lot more if you kept your cakehole shut.” 

Aharrr, me ‘earties! 

Well, buckle me swash! ‘Ere we go again! Only, let’s go anywhere but the cinema.

What’s with all these crap movies?! Suddenly, movie website Rotten Tomatoes is riddled with too many teens and twentysomethings. Before you can say: “A one-legged man with 18-pound balls? No wonder he walks funny!” Brad has waded in to investigate why there is more bilge on the big screen than ever before… 

Back in the day, you could rent out videos of the most dire, cheesy B-flicks AND still be merrily entertained.

Now, “standards” have definitely floundered: more obscene amounts of cash stuffed in, while artistic integrity no longer holds great value… 

Pirates of the Caribbean: Salazar’s Revenge comes away as the “Best” Of The Worst (29%!). This barnacle-ridden franchise (originally based on a theme park ride, don’t forget!) has well and truly run aground. Even its most fanatical supporters would have to admit that Johnny Depp’s slurred-and-sloshed routine should have walked the plank long before now, and those zombie sharks are a sure sign that all the good ideas sunk without trace ages ago. Arrr…? Ol’ Stragglybeard here is NOT parting with any o’ his pieces o’ eight for this! 

You realise how useless a flop is when it is unable to provide Bradscribe with sufficient quotes! Jeez – really struggled to find suitable lines from any of the wretched assortment collected here, ultimately resorting to a few nuggets from this Pirates sequel, and – shiver me frickin’ timbers (ahem) “other comedy classics.”

At some point in this Post, we will have to deal with the Worst of the Worst. 

So, on that note, here, theoretically, is where a still from the latest noisy, changeable-‘bots crudfest: Transformers: The Last Shite should go:

Jack Kipper: “We just had a leak in the hold.” 

Scurvy Joe: “Did you? Well next time do it over the side, arrr!”

King Arthur: “The Lady of the Lake, her arm clad in the purest shimmering samite held aloft Excalibur from the bosom of the water, signifying by divine providence that I, Arthur, was to be your King.” 

Dennis: “Listen, strange women lyin’ in ponds distributin’ swords is no basis for a system o’ government… You can’t expect to wield supreme executive power just ‘cos some watery tart threw a sword at you.” 

You see?! 

The Transformers franchise – based on a range of toys fer cakes’ sake! – is so dire, it’s utterly pointless bothering to illustrate it with stills. No, we (patience permitting) shall leave the least till last!

Instead, with a keen fondness for all-things-Arthurian, a blockbuster based on this quintessentially-English literary tradition should have piqued my interest, but one has grown accustomed to the deflatingly inadequate (and disrespectful) fare that Hollywood can manufacture… 

In King Arfur: Leg End Of The Bored, Blimey Charlie Humdrum – ho hum, wouldya Adam-an’-Eve it? Another Brad-clone! – steps into Guy Ritchie’s right ol’ Cockney knees-up retelling of the Arfur gubbins with ‘is Roight Noble Geezers o’ the Rahnd Table. Cor blimey, guv’nor!

On paper, this should have been as sound as a pound – perhaps using a Cool Britannia soundtrack (including The Who, The Stranglers, Adam & The Ants, The Damned, Ian Dury And The Blockheads, Eddie & The Hot Rods et al)?; employing a certain ridiculously good-looking blogger 😉 to write some witty banter, eh? eh?!   

Nah… 

Arfur turned out to be as substandard and disagreeable (28%!) as those dodgy donuts me stomach wuz subjected to at the end of the pier last Friday noight. For this shoddy shambles swiftly degeneratesinconceivably, inexplicably – into an insipid medieval pile-up of CG-battle scenes, CG-monsters, CG-pachyderms and- stone the bloody crows! CG-pachyderms?! ‘E’s orf ‘is nut! Do me a favAH! etc. etc.

Should’ve deployed the zombie sharks, mate…

What a loada cobblers…

Baz Hogan: “Storm’s dying down.”

Nova Clarke: “How can you tell?”

Baz Hogan: “Not as many sharks flying around.”

“Does Mummy ever ask about me?” – Captain Jack Sparrow.

Next, we trundle out The Mummy (Flamin’ Nora! She’s in a right old state, arf arf!)

But really…

It’s a shockingly turgid (15%) harbinger of Universal’s new Monster Franchise. It’s quite simple really: if the laughably-termed: “makers” couldn’t be bothered to assemble such rudimentary elements as plot, script or characterisation, one could not be arsed to collect any relevant images. As Confucius used to say: “If you’re uncertain, Steve Martin…”

Count the number of people who remarked: ooh, but it’s got Thomas “Fop Gun” Wannahobbler IV in it – how baaad could it possibly be?!

Worse than you can possibly imagine, apparently. 

From what your correspondent has been able to ascertain from assorted reviews, it looks like a monster movie, but doesn’t try to be scary; it’s too mechanical to be an action movie; too clunky to fit in that diminutive plane-magnet’s film-file; and too abysmal to sit through. Still, at least this leading nerk is less irritating than Marky “Mark” Wahlberg… 

Which brings us neatly – if reluctantly – to the latest Transformers scrap-metal pile. 

Ordinarily, this cannot, by any analytical process, be called a “movie”; it should, therefore, only be treated as a 200-minute trailer, with its constant, mind-numbing inconsequential moving parts and volume cranked up to eleventystoopid. By now, you get the queasy impression that Auteur Of Awfulness: Michael Bay is revelling in the prospect of far too many dense juves ready to throw away good money down this bad dunny – this “movie” epitomises everything that is deplorable with the modern movie “industry”

“Completely insane” seems to be the “kindest” remark made about this trash. There is. Ab. Sol. Ute. Ly. NO! Reason for me to waste Review time or space on it. And yet…

Leading thesp: Sir Odin Hopkins appears in this…! Obviously, he required a new loft conversion. And by Jiminy, boyo, he was bally well going to get it, eh what?! Is there any other plausible way to explain this ridiculous case of (mis)casting?! 

Unfortunately, for me, there is no abomination more unsettling in movies these days than that Marky “Mark” WahlbergOtherwise decent movies have deteriorated once he became involved with them; only someone like him could have replaced Shit Lebeef on this fetid franchise. Usually as cool and laidback as the next dude me, but put this tosspot in the same room as Brad and – by Jove! – THE CAKES WILL HURL…

Woebetide the younglings who actually believe that Transformers is bonafide science fiction!

Arrr, set the zombie sharks on ’em, says Oi…! 

China is set – very soon – to become the largest cinema market in the world. As long as a western movie does NOT feature ghosts, homosexuals or Tibet, it can get a widespread release there. Primarily, Chinese audiences crave – above all else – BIG mindless spectacle, so unanimously-derided trash like The Mummy and Transformers will always be welcomed with open wallets… So why STOP making them?  

Dear Friends, there is nothng more wretched than the truth…

To conclude then, this fistful of flops proves that a fate worse than Depp is unbelievably, unnecessarily possible – not to mention economically viable. And it’s never going to end…

However, you do realise that Brad – bedecked in his “crawled through a river of shit and came out clean on the other side” T-shirt – will keep venturing forth to look for those elusive so-bad-they’re-good flicks… 

Who knows WHAT he will get up to?

“I don’t care what he gets up to, as long as he doesn’t do it in the street and frighten the camels!”

Oh dear…

 

The White Lion And The Dessert Rats

Up The Creek, Down In The Desert… 

cribbins-with-peter-selle-009

“The Sand People are easily startled, but they’ll be back, and in greater numbers…” – Obi Wan Kenobi.

 

Missing In Awesomeness!

Following an unexpected Imperial entanglement, the Calista Blockhead was forced to make an emergency landing on Bitumen IV in the Itaintalfotmum System. Although Brad Company managed to escape from a Zandokan ambush, Mitch Quintana was mortally wounded, and Brad Fartlighter was captured.

In the meantime, a dangerous new band of Tahntah rebel fighters has emerged in the Djinn Wastelands, led by the notorious chieftain:

Darb Dak’ar Dinari – known to his Followers as

The White Lion.

Their raids on Zandokan stations are increasing in deadly frequency, complicating any chances of rescuing your hero!

Yet from amidst the mysterious sandscape, an encouraging distress signal has been picked up. The Calista is now speeding over the Dune Sea into hostile tribal territory, and the Company are on their perilous way to bring back their Brad

 

“Okey dokey, fellas! We’re comin’ up on the Tahntah camp!” Chief Engineer Harris Wrench announced enthusiastically.

“Settin’ her down… now!” cried Helmsman Gaz Murphy. 

“Watchit, you lot! Ya bedder be on yer guard,” the Chief yelled, lowering the hatch and bounding out onto the velvety golden sand before he had properly activated his respirator.

“‘Ey, ‘Arris?!” Second Officer Lexi Waldorf yelled, racing out after him, the rest of the Company tagging cautiously behind.

“Don’t get sooo excited! Wait up, willya?!”  

“These Tahntahs are mean beggars; top desert figh’ers – tough as crud! They’re renahned fer takin’ nah pris’ners. They all go arahn’ swathed in yajhmakhs: tribal gear coverin’ ’em from head ta foot. These savages are crackshots wiv their looong tahndiggi rifles. An’ they all speak some’t indecipherable called Bit’i – not a frickin’ word a’ English, which is-“

“A real frickin’ drag, is it not, Earthman?” the Tahntah scout growled as it abruptly sprang out of the sand right in front of the startled Chief.

“Uff, frickin’ tourist… Shoutin’ yer lousy head off loud enough to betray our position to the Zandokans. Wanna know how “crack” I can be with this, sunshine?!”

All Harris could do was freeze… and stare with dread down the looong barrel of a tahndiggi rifle. 

In an instant, its buddies had emerged from the ground all around the terrified Company to gesture impudently at them.

“Hey, loudmouth Earthman! We take you all back to our camp; Darb Dak’ar Dinari is… expecting you! And then we show you ignorant lot how frickin’ “savage” we can really get, heh heh heh…”

“Truly, for some men nothing is written unless they write it…” – Sherif Ali.

Deep within the Tahntah base, in a subterranean tribal assembly room, a mob of Tahntah warriors had gathered to gloat at the hapless outsiders. The fearsome fighter: Tahntah Khasabah stepped onto a raised platform and proudly announced the arrival of Darb Dak’ar Dinari.

In an instant, the tension – and noise – dissipated; the crowd parted and a tall and imposing figure, bedecked in a dark, hooded cloak swathed around his sandswept yajhmakh, strode menacingly forth. Darb Dak’ar Dinari stopped to flick back his hood, and he gleered at Bad Company with sinister eyes as black as night.

“Ay caramba!” Nacho gulped.

“Keep back, Lex!” Gaz whispered. “I gotta feelin’ this moofmilker’s gonna chew all the scenery…”

Raising his right gloved hand to salute his guests, the mighty Darb spoke in a terrifying guttural drawl:

“Tahn diggi! Tihn diggi diggi tah bishkah!”

“An’ a-diggi diggi to ya too, fella,” Harris sighed despondently.  “Soz, but we dahn’t un’erstand yer lingo…”

“Nuh fret!” Darb announced heartily. “Aycan speaky yer lingy…”

“Cor, blimey – tha’s a swell piece a’ luck… Er, yer ‘oldin’ our Commander. We came ta geddim back, like; any chance we could see ‘im, umm… Mister Dinari, sir… please?”

“Ha ha, no hold…! He free man! Heere on Bi-tu-mee-een…!”

“Well, where is ‘e, like?!”

The great tribal leader switched off a Voice Modulator under his chin. From thenceforth, his speech lilted… in a more familiar dahn-ta-Earth tone:

“Ha ha ha! ‘Oo loves ya, baby?!”

Lexi stepped forward, gawping in disbelief. “Aow, fer cryin’ out loud!” she beamed.

The others just turned to stare at her.

“I just KNEW it…! Hey, guys: WHAT’S DARB SPELT BACKWARDS…?!”

Undisciplined… unpunctual… untidy. Several languages. Knowledge of music… knowledge of literature… knowledge of… knowledge of… You’re an interesting man, there’s no doubt about it!” – General Allenby. 

“Good on ya, Lex! Groovy. Thought ya might suss me aht before these nerks, ha ha!” Brad cried as he revealed his ridiculously good looks.

Nacho ran towards his Commander, giving him a big hug.

“Oh, tu madre loco!” he blubbed.

“Ha! Yeah, guess yer right, Nach… Good ta see ya ‘gain too, fella!”

Barb Degoya watched with a big dopey grin across his Rontavahrian chops.

“You never cease to amaze me, my Commander…!”

“Cheers, Barby!”

Gaz shook his awestruck head.

“Trust you, Brad, to act out your Loz o’ frickin’ Araby fantasies…! You’re one helluva crazy Brit, but I’ll always folla ya!”

“Heh, cheers, Gaz. Didn’ wanna disappointcha!”

“How have you survived here, all this time?”

“Easy peasy, fella. These Tahntah bunnies are such swell, ‘ospitable peeps; their kebabs are among the finest in the galaxy; they make the most scrumptious dessert: tahndiggibaklava – aww, ya jus’ gotta try it! – an’ luckily enough, I ‘ad the Desert Eagle e.p. in me Zune ta pump me oop for all those raids, but… ah, me Comp’ny – I missed y’all, so I nabbed an Imperial Com’unica’or for ya to come an’ get me!”

Lexi chipped in: “An’ you topped up yer tan as well, I see…”

“Ooh, it’s lovely, in’it? I got- ‘EY! Cheeky gal…”

Brad glanced at his Chief Engineer. “Ain’tcha gonna join in wiv da wisecracks, fella…?”

“Bleedin’ ‘ell…!” Harris muttered. “The ‘White Lion’…?”

“Ah, oho! Well, y’see… they love me porcelain complexion round ‘ere, y’know! An’ dahn’ ferget me lustrous blond mane! Ha ha, blimey Charley! Jus’ listen to ya: ‘Ooh, Mister Dinari, sir’, heh heh heh – shoulda seen da look on yer mug!”

“Aow, leave it aht, Brad… Uff, shoulda known…”

 “Yeah, fella… ya shoulda!”

At that mo, Harris’ blood curdled; that scout wandered over… and extended his hand. 

“Accept, please, my apologies for the…”act” … ‘Arris, is it not? Brad neglect to tell me how… sensitive you is…”

“Ha ha ha! Are ya?!” The Commander wrapped a reassuring arm around his Chief’s shoulder. “Nah worries – meet me new mucka: Tahntah Bosskhah.  ‘E may look as fright’nin’ as fudge, but ‘e’s really a mild-mannered  gent, like meself! ‘Ey, dahn’t be so easily startled, fella!”

“Yes, ‘Arris, chill out… man. Have some tahndiggibaklava…”

“Ah yeah! Ha ha! Amen, bruvva!”

“Give thanks to God that when he made you a fool, he gave you a fool’s face” – Auda Abu Tayi. 

Suddenly, a teenage Tahntah fighter leapt into the chamber, squawking something in Bitti. At once, the older tribesmen grabbed their tahndiggi rifles and began to disperse; Brad Company looked at each other uncomfortably.

“What the fudge is goin’ down now, Commander?” Gaz frowned.

“Sounds like we gotta Zandokan contingent ‘eadin’ our way…” Brad moaned, loading his rifle. “Confound it! Looks like the baklava’ll ‘ave ta wait…”

“Brad?! You’re not thinking…” 

“It’ll be okay, Lex – just one more time-“

“WHOA! Reverse thrust, Mister! We risked EVERYTHING ta get you back! We’ve been through too much to… aah, fegeddit. C’mon, ‘Arris, leave the lunk’ead ta linger here with his cosplay and tahn-frickin’-‘klava! GAH!”

And with that, Lexi stormed out, with the Chief sauntering sheepishly behind.

Tahntah Bosskhah had stood behind them, watching all the while, arms folded and head shaking.

“Oof! Doth my eyes deceive me? Can this be true? Looks like the Lion… just got tamed…”

“Aow, shush you…” Brad blushed.

The desert warrior wrapped a reassuring arm around the Commander’s shoulder.

“Do not be so easily startled, fella…! Wonderful girl… I… do not know. What you think? You think a Furie and a fella like me-“

“No! Oh me giddy aunt, no! She’ll make mincemeat outta ya… fella…”

“So be… never argue with the White Lion…! In that case… I long, instead, to see a real lion – you portray them as such fine, noble creatures…” 

“No such luck, amigo…” Brad sniffed. “They’ve been hunted ta the brink o’ extinction…”

Tahntah Bosskhah shifted uneasily.

“Tahntahtheos, no…! I know now why you were so eager to flee Earth. Truly, therein lie the real savages…”

“Do you think I’m just anybody do you? …The best of them won’t come for money – they’ll come for me!” – T.E. Lawrence

Tahntah Bosskhah surveyed the uncompromising Kazvini Plain with his “acquired”  Imperial ocular device.

“Has been an honour to fight by your side, Inglish… So, are we to ride and raid – one last time, or does the need to avenge your fallen comrade take precedence? I think we both know that Kismet will sweep you away along the latter path…”

“We both know that I dahn’ wish ta leave, but it’s uncanny – after ages thwarting the Empire countless times, the most onerous challenge I must confront involves… executing a coward…”

Tahntahtheos be with you in what perils lie ahead…”

“Cheers… Need all the strength: physical – and mental – that I can muster…”

“…You, my friend, the White Lion – what a privilege to state even that – have made… such a strong impression in such a short time! A redoubtable warrior; a formidable philosopher; a mighty eater; surely no other Earthling could cross the Anvil Of The Twin Suns unscathed? Tell me, is there anything you cannot do, Inglish?!”

“I can NEVER give up hope that, one day, the Empire will fall…”

Sherif Ali: “Have you no fear, English?”

T.E. Lawrence: “My fear is my concern.” 

Harris had taken Lexi out onto an alcove cut high into the Tahntah‘s great mountain fortress to let her simmer down. Tahntah guard wandered out to watch over them; but they all ended up watching the brigade – to an accompaniment of darbuka drums beating furiously – gallop away across the Djinn Wastes…

The Dak’ar Dinari actually stopped to turn and wave to them. Lexi reluctantly waved back. 

“Yeah, ‘bye ‘bye, lunk’ead; if you’re not back by midnight, we’re takin’ orf withoutcha… Do you think he will make it back…? In time…? ‘Arris…!!”

He flashed a wide, dopey grin stretching from one side of the galaxy to the other. 

“Well, fe fi fo frickin’ fum, fella!” he chortled. “I smell the blood o’ me Commander!” and turned to the guard, who lowered his rifle and stared back in shock.

“Jeez, Chief! How’dya know it wuz me?!”

“Ha, I ain’ gonna fall fer the same trick twice! Y’shoulda known that!”

“Yeah, fella… I shoulda!” Brad retorted, unwrapping his yajhmakh. 

“Huh, I shoulda guessed…” Lexi added, with a grin – albeit a wry one – finally returning to her lips. “Actually, I shoulda looked closer no other bunny in this tribe has so many tahndiggibaklava crumbs on ‘is yajhmakh. Lookachu! Messy pup… Okay, so who was the guy wavin’ at me?”

“Tahntah Bosskhah – I reckon you are ‘is Desert Rose-“

“Weh-heh-hell, nuts ta THAT! When? Can. We leave?!”

“As soon as yer ready!” Brad laughed. “Oh well, the new Dak’ar Dinari doesn’ get the girl, but ‘e should manage – gave ‘im me Zune! ‘E loves that Desert Eagle e.p.‘Onestly, ya jus’ couldn’ ride into battle wivaht it. Lookee ‘ere – the only bunny on this rock wiv a music player – if that doesn’t consolidate ‘is leadership, nothin’ will. Okey dokey, notify the others – we’re ‘eadin’ back to the Block’ead.” 

They were just about to move out, when Brad drew them into his arms.

“I know who the traitor is,” he whispered softly. “I’ve been ‘ere long enough ta work it aht.”

“Excellente!” Lexi snarled. “Poor Mitch. I’ve been itchin’ fer payback… ever since he…”

“I know ya have, lov, but this is some’t I ‘ave ta do… considerin’ who it… is…” 

She prepared to argue her case for a bigger role in this Bradventure, until she noticed REAL TEARS welling up in the hero’s eyes; she gave him a big hug before they all turned to leave.

Tahntah Khasabah appeared in the doorway.

“I’ll meetcha aboard in ‘alf a tick, guys – there are some farewell wishes I must pass on…”

“‘Tis true, then? You must leave now?” Tahntah Khasabah spoke (in Bitti). Alas, your glorious chapter in our story comes to a bittersweet end; we should have held a banquet in your honour.”

“We can have that…” Brad replied (in faultless Bitti). “…’Pon my return!”

“Ah! Then you are coming back?!”

“Of course! I could not stay away from all those savoury and sweet delights for too long…” 

“Ha! Praise Tahntahtheos for delivering thee – the ravenous White Lion – unto us!”  

“A thousand thanks for bestowing upon me the honour of leading your warriors into battle…”

“You are most welcome, Inglish. Besides, I needed to repay you for helping me defeat that band of Gondobek brigands, back in the day…”

“You already did when you rescued me from that Zandokan division. It was… Gondobek…? Ha, I had forgotten about them!”

“Glory! I thank Tahntahtheos that the White Lion is on our side…! Now the mantle of my tribe falls to Tahntah Bosskhah – he becomes the rightful Dak’ar Dinari… Once upon a time, I would have ached to join the brigade riding off this evening, but now… I just ache… I grow weary of battle.”

“What will you do now…?”

“I wish to retire, far below, and meditate beside our subterranean glacial pools. I yearn to write poetry, but the Zandokans deem me “savage” and decree that I cannot…”

“No! ‘Tis your life; your love… Do anything YOU want to do…”

“Absolutely! We both know that I will, Inglish. From now on, I will fight only to uphold every right, and strive to ensure that my people survive…”

“I very much look forward to reading your poetry… Follow your heart and smite the trolls.”

“Perhaps… Perhaps I should compose The Saga Of The White Lion; celebrate for evermore how our lives were blessed by such a remarkable man from beyond the stars… Who bewitched us all with his striking blue eyes…”

“Bless your heart, Tahntah Khasabah. You are a remarkable woman…”

Dune_Concept_Art_Illustration_m01-848x400

“I think you are another of these desert-loving English…” – Prince Feisal.

Damnation and blast, Brad!” cried Major Spoiler, more than dismayed to see the Battleforce Commander-turned-desert fighter appear before him on the vid-conf screen.

“How are you still alive?!”

“Yay, the bees-knees ta see ya too, Major Crotchstain,” Brad drawled, now ensconced back on the Calista as it zoomed up and away from the Tahntah camp. 

“And what the blazes is it with all that ridiculous tribal get-up?! Amateur theatricals?!”

“Yeah, some’t like that…”

“A nest of savages cannot protect you forever… fool. I will finish what Baumer was unable to do!”

“Sooo… ya wan’ ta terminate me? …With extreme prejudice, am I right?”

“Right!”

“WRONG! I may be as stoopid as I look, Major, but dahn’t think fer one frickin’ minute that I’m gonna fall fer yer dodgy schemin’…!”

Suddenly, Brad leered right into the screen, hollering through gnashed teeth.

“JEEZ! I KNEW IT WUZ YOU!! The set-up…? The ambush? YOU arranged it all, didn’tcha, fella…? DIDN’TCHA?! I’ll track ya dahn, trai’or!”

He held a clenched fist up against the monitor.

“Then I’m gonna download THIS into yer cake’ole, ya treach’rous moofmilkAH!

And with that, transmission abruptly fizzled out.

The Militia officer swivelled round to view the Zandokan delegation seated behind him. A familiar Dark Lord sat at the top of the table…

And did not look at all chuffed.

“Vell done, Mehjair. Yo rilly hed heem urn ze rurpz zhaire…”

“Patience, my Lord. I can assure you that my men shall… take care of Fartlighter-“

“WHAA-?! Yo try to fool Zegreatme?! Ay hef ZEEN yer men! GAH! Vukk me zydwaz… Ze murzt YUZELEZZ burnch urv vukkweetz Ay evair did zee!! Nurt a zeengle brenzell betweeen zem!” 

“But, my Lord-!”

“Uff, zpare me yer vukkin’ covfefe, Urfmairn! Nur mattair! Ay deed nurt come ull zeez way juzt to keek zand een zee Bettleferce Commandair’s fazz…! Yer worriez aire ovair, MehjairBay Ze Pah Eenvezted Een Mee Bay Ze Empah, Ay hef dezpetched ze grettezt bounteee hurntairz een ze gelexy to deeel weev heem!

“Ze Kekchairmair vill peez uz erf… NUR MURR! Heh heh heh…”

 

CONCLUDES HERE

“Me, your Highness? On the whole, I wish I’d stayed in Tunbridge Wells…” – Mr. Dryden. 

 

Interface 2037 Ready For Inquiry: What’s The Story Mother?

Loving The Alien? This Time, No Means NO!

“…A story that is basically just a mixture of The Creature from the Black Lagoon and The Thing from Outer Space… [Ridley Scott’s] combination of space fiction and horror story is no great shakes as a work of art. Artifice, however, it has in profusion.” – Derek Malcolm.

“A transmission? Out here? …Human?” 

“Unknown…”

Apologies if you swung by expecting a Review of Alien Covenant.

But really – it’s a swizz of the first water; a pointless celebration of the Alien franchise’s Greatest Hits. Wasting my time in a cinema for something like this can usually incite me to rant no end, but after a particularly trying fortnight – both physically and mentally – yours truly has been unable to write anything remotely readable.

Here, on a good day, you would be able to learn how completely unnecessary this rehash really is. How it adds nothing new; judging by the lacklustre trailer, the script sounds unremarkable, and – like Prometheus, which frustrated more than frightened audiences – attempts at character development are nil, considering how expendable WE KNOW this crew are…

And to think that after enjoying the first two Alien movies, this adventurer genuinely craved more sequelsha!

How times – and attitudes – have changed. After two more dodgy sequels, the divisive Prometheus and now Alien Covenant, one of the most interesting movie franchises has become one of the most tedious…

“I did have one odd nightmare once. I dreamt I was visiting some friends in a Vermont farmhouse and the alien came out of the chimney. Suddenly I was dreaming about my own life. You would think it would only happen in space… but if you start to dream like this, it puts a whole different reality to it” –  Sigourney Weaver.

There is another anguished reason why Alien Covenant proves to be so bothersome.

Where, oh where, is Sigourney Weaver?!

Just two years ago, it all seemed fine an’ dandy. The actress most synonymous with this franchise was itching to return and wrap up Ellen Ripley’s story one last time. It would have been the Alien 3 we deserved; Michael Biehn was also lined up to reprise the role of Corporal Hicks from Aliens. The director of Chappie and District 9 was set to helm (incidentally a move not welcomed in this camp).

But by the time the Covenant trailer appeared earlier this year, the head-scratching began. We saw what looked like an inferior rehash of the 1979 masterpiece, and Katherine Waterston “playing” the female protagonist.

Okay, Waterston, but no Weaver?!

Such an intriguing movie project – allowed to languish in development-hell – is officially cancelled in favour of… this?!

In online forums, no one can hear Brad scream…

Don’t care that Covenant garnered more at the box office in its first week than Guardians Of The Galaxy Vol. 2, and retains a respectable score on Rotten Tomatoes, this is NOT the package that any of us expected.

Great Scott! What is Ridley doing?! 

Cannot believe that he is responsible for such a run-o’-the-Hollywood-mill exercise…

“We had gone through various sketches… they seemed to be of scaly bodies… or huge blobs… There was no elegance to them, no lethalness. What emerged – Giger’s designs… definitely not of this world…” – Ridley Scott.

Alien Covenant is the first Alien film since the passing of H. R. Giger.

With each new underwhelming entry to this franchise, the extraordinary terror instilled by Giger’s original chilling, biomechanoid design is gradually diminished. Moreover, in attempting – and failing! – to adequately explain the backstory surrounding such notable features as the derelict spaceship and the Space Jockey of LV426, their mystique is irreparably eroded.

Just contemplating the faults and inanities of Alien Covenant and what could have been – makes me feel more ill.

You wonder: why couldn’t they change the alien design, themes, names, et al – produce something completely different for a change?

Surely, such a fresh premise would be preferable than having yet another reboot/prequel foisted upon us? Ah! Sllly Brad; business is business, of course  jeez, how could we forget that?

Unfortunately – like other unwanted cultural dross floating around us @ the mo – we cannot exactly blow this thing out the goddamn air-lock.

So, Mother, what can we do?

INTERFACE 2037 READY FOR INQUIRY

REQUEST EVALUATION OF CURRENT PROCEDURES TO TERMINATE ALIEN COVENANT

UNABLE TO COMPUTE

AVAILABLE DATA INSUFFICIENT

Nuts…

 

Does Alien Covenant at least offer anything as sublime as this on its Soundtrack?

Thought not… 

“Final Report of the commercial starship Nostromo, Third Officer reporting.

“The other members of the crew – Kane, Lambert, Parker, Brett, Ash, and Captain Dallas – are dead.

“Cargo and ship destroyed.

“I should reach the frontier in about six weeks. With a little luck, the network will pick me up.

“This is Ripley, last survivor of the Nostromo, signing off…”

 

Pecs, Pies And Videotape: Confessions Of An ’80s Video Junkie

Slap It In The VCR And They Will Come…

WARNING: Contains strong violence, some mild language and scenes of a dodgy sexual nature

time slip

“Lay me place and bake me pie, I’m starving for me gravy” – David Bowie.  

Know you now of days long past.

A time when the world was young, when video recorders thrived;

the worldwide web but a twinkle in its inventor’s eye,

and wild adventure was fore’er in the offing…

What better way to spend this Bank Holiday Weekend than traipse through the Mall of Nostalgia?!

My life changed forever in mid-August 1984, when we acquired our very first video cassette recorder: VHS you understand (the cool one); the sole kid who often touted the “merits” of Betamax would invariably get beaten to a pulp by the bigger boys.

From that hallowed point onwards, life revolved (spooled?) around tapes: tapes of action movies, tapes of TV comedy shows, tapes of planes, trains and automobiles for Dad, and ballet for Mum, tapes of this an’ tapes of t(h)at. Back then, you see, being able to watch a TV programme a day, a week – or months(!) – after its broadcast date shouted sheer genius! 

And don’t forget the pies… 

Possibly the main reason why best school-buddies: Ed and Boz dropped by my gaff at weekends, and during holidays, involved the double fix of excellent videos and scrumptious pies! In those days, our considerable larder came ram-packed with meaty goodness: steak and kidney, minced beef and onion… but one couldn’t stomach cheese and mushroom – still can’t. All supplemented by a kitchen drawer overflowing with potato chips of every possible flavour!

Probably the coolest addition to the high street was the video rental store. Our local awemonger: Video Stop received frequent visits by yours truly. Don’t regret admitting that more time was spent in there browsing around its ram-packed shelves than in the school library…  

If you – like me – are a child of the 80s, then you will know all-too-perfectly-well what this blogger is blatherin’ on about.

“Don’t insult my intelligence! Please, don’t make me kill you… It will spoil all my fun” – Diana.

For weeks, the latest sci-fi TV sensation from the States had been advertised.

Just known as V – Earth’s first encounter with extraterrestrial visitors! Arriving in fifty motherships, they seek water and resources to save their dying planet, and in return they will bestow upon us all the fruits of their knowledge. TV cameraman Mike Donovan (Marc Singer) stows away aboard the LA mothership and discovers the shocking truth: they are reptilian invaders come to collect humans as food!

The original 2-part opener thrilled me and Ed on the Monday and Tuesday nights respectively. As it went out @ 10:30pm, Dad stuck around to check its suitability for us; he got swept along qith the engrossing drama and SF thrills, and – seeing how enraptured we younglings clearly were, he went out to purchase a VCR on the Wednesday morning.

Way ta go, Daddio!

For that night, the 3- part series: V The Final Battle began, and the whole caboodle got so much better.

Marc Singer was a revelation. Or – more precisely – his pecs motivated me to build upon my embarrassingly weedy frame and maybe – just maybe – rather than beat me up in the playground, the girls would instead start to respect and, perhaps, fancy me…

Another main reason to watch V, of course, was Jane Badler as scheming scientist: Diana – hotter than a pie that’d just come outta the oven.

‘Tis a pity she’s a lizard…

Really, we could not move on without mentioning one of the ultimate SF badasses:Ham Tyler. He holds a reserved place in Brad’s Badass Brigade. Take a butcher’s @ this classic scene and you’ll see why:

“Now that’s a waste of good luggage” – Ham Tyler.

“Just give me some meat an’ a bowl a’ noodles, and make it snappy!” – Hsiao Feng.

Back in the day, you could, inevitably, get titles so indescribably bizarre.

Take – for instance – Time Slip aka GI Samurai: a madcap Jap piece a’ crap. Caught in a sinister storm, an army division is hurled back to the Samurai Era. In the batshit-bonkers carnage that ensues, their tank fires on cavalry charges and all Sonny Chiba (yes! for it is he!) can do is watch his men wiped out by wave upon wave of arrows…

Most of the titles on offer in Video Stop seemed to be rip-offs of either Alien or Mad Max. The latter – fantastically awful titles that had more cheese than, well, a cheese pie – already received somewhat “fervent” attention in this Post.

If a rental proved too turgid to sit through, one constantly-reliable go-to could always be slapped back in the VCR.

Beach Of The War Gods – directed, and starring, that great Taiwanese action-star: “Jimmy” Wang Yu (yes! the one and only!) – is a gloriously hard and funky epic from the legendary Golden Harvest stable. During the 16th century, the Japanese laid siege to the Chinese coastline: killing, looting, burning and other frightful deeds. The petrified plebs of the Windy City dread imminent attack until-!

The Stranger moseys on in…

He persuades Iron Man (yes! Iron Man!) and Brother Li Love (a moody paleface with twenty daggers strapped onto his tunic) to aid him in leading the locals to fight off the Jap hordes.

As to be expected, the dubbing is hilarious, the foley artist is having a gas, and the surf guitar (yes! surf guitar!) soundtrack is outta sight, man!

The climactic battle – hackin’-an’-a-slashin’ through the city streets – is faster and more furious than your average Chinese flick, featuring scintillating choreography, and it just keeps on going and going!

…And going!

But the very first bout a’ blade-battering – when Hsiao Feng Two-Blades kicks off! – is particular gobsmacking. To me, this scene will ALWAYS be a frenetic fave and as-cool-as-fudge:

“Anything you say can and will be held against you…in the court of Robocop” – Jerry.

ALIEN BODIES…

One classic film that constantly eluded me was the original Alien. Although one unforgettable day did come mighty close to changing that…

The box read: “Alien: Starring Tom Skerritt” written in black felt tip. Aha, that’s the bunny! methinks, me quest is over!

Sure enough, Ed and Boz stopped what they were doing and pedalled frantically over to my gaff. Ed had the king-size steak and kidney, Boz tucked in (rather unbelievably) to the cheese and mushroom, while Brad had the beef and onion. Three chip packets rustled in unison as the video started playing. Hmm, no 20th Century Fox logo; funny, not even those iconic credits came on neither…

Strangely, the screen opened, NOT on the dark, foreboding world of LV426, but in a brightly-lt bedroom. On a huge double-bed reclined three young women, with barely one bikini between them.

We gawped in horror as they proceeded to do something unmentionable. With a light bulb…

Searing into my soul, Boz fixed me with his most intense where-the-fudge-is-Tom-Skerritt?! stare: “Jeez, Brad! Ya tryin’ ta corrupt us, fella?!” he blurted. “This must be one of dem Video Nasties that Mrs. Shufflebottom warned us about in class last week! Fer pity’s sake, mate, put Beach Of The War Gods on again, willya?!”

“BLAZES!” yelled Ed, almost spitting his pie out. “I can ‘ear yer Dad comin’ up the hallway! Eject, fella! EJECT!!”

The jittery vid-jockey lunged towards his VCR, an itchy finger quivering over the Eject button.

The bally thing!

It clicked; it whirred. The picture took FOREVER to switch off.

The tape chugged out, just as Dad marched in. To pick up a pencil…

Remember only too well THAT looong, wretched slog back to Video Stop. Too embarrassed to glance at other passers-by – felt like they were staring at me with utter disgust.

Honestly!

A boy of my age…

Carrying SUCH SMUT through a densely populated area…

Too timid to look the video store worker in the eye and hand over THAT TAPE Or have the nerve to inform him that this was definitely NOT the version “directed” by Ridley Scott…

Imagine my utter relief to find, upon arrival, the lad-in-charge had popped out for a pie! The offending article could simply be dropped in the Returns box. Huzzah, my anonymity – not to mention my dignity! – remained intact! To be on the safe side, managed to avoid the store for a WHOLE WEEK so they wouldn’t be able to trace me back to that… that ghastly horridness.

Of course, the three amigos never spoke about it…

Don’t think any of us dared go near another Tom Skerritt movie…

“Okay, who ordered the Burly Beef?” – Sarah Connor.

My dear father and the joy of video rentals granted one of the most memorable birthdays of this boy’s life. Inevitably, Ed and Boz came round for my 14th – with cards and gifts (tapes, obviously).

And lo!

It came to pass that Dad had got me a swell gift – he’d sneaked out and rented a video! (blub)

The cover alone was ultracool – a futuristic dude holding a groovy shoo’er, but sporting the MOST IMPECCABLE PECS! Suddenly, such good vibes emanated from this tape…

Two groovy fellas travel back in time to Los Angeles to hook up with the same clumsy waitress. And then the big guy gets blasted away. Uff, so what…? But then – SWEET BABY JESUS! – he only gets up and spends the rest of the movie chasing the other two across LA! Turns out that he – ha! get this: happens to be a cyborg, sent back to terminate that po’ woman presumably before she can do any more damage to that Diner.

It’s the most ridiculous thing, but pulled off with such great gusto; the action is top-notch, while the pace? Relentless! You know its title; it’s become one of THE iconic SF greats of the 80s – and deservedly so.

Dad was absolutely delighted to see me so happy, and – bless ‘im – only rented ANOTHER video!

He felt chuffed to bits, convinced that he’d got THE PRIZE. As you well know, Aliens is the sequel to the film that would, eventually, take another THREE YEARS to reach my Christmas stocking…

The awesome merits of Aliens appeared not so long ago in this Post.

But what turned out to be really mind-blowing? Corporal Hicks (Michael Biehn) is also a stalwart member of the the Badass Brigade – Hey! This is turning into quite a nifty reunion! Plus, Biehn had already showed off his pecs in that other Movie of the Day!

A Michael Biehn double-bill the perfect birthday present for anyone!

GOD BLESS MICHAEL BIEHN.

“You could warn them… if only you spoke Hovitos!” – Dr. Rene Belloq.

“Yo, fella, save the BEST till last.”

The BIGGEST movie of Summer ’84 had to be something called: Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. Knew that it was an old-fashioned action/adventure movie, but that was all. Until Ed clarified that it was actually a sequel to a blockbuster that caused a sensation back in ’81: Raiders of the Lost Ark.

Not only promising the ultimate pie-eating experience, we reckon this was our VERY FIRST rental. Whoa, what a visual feast to get the ball – or, in this case, boulder – rolling!

Raiders is a MASTERPIECE; yes, yes, Brad concedes – it IS BETTER than Beach Of The War Gods…

Here is one of its undisputed highlights – one of the finest action sequences EVER produced. John Williams excelled himself here. On my all-time chart, his pieces that give me goosebumps include: The Imperial March; the Tattooine Theme, and the sequence that begins here @ 1:54

Best moment? 4:38ha ha!

Let’s go!:

“Didn’t any of you guys ever go to Sunday school?” – Indiana Jones. 

That, my fellow thrill-seekers, wraps it up for this May Day Weekend.

Since our TV set switched to a digital network, access to our video channel has become a bugger to fix; mould has damaged some of the tapes; Video Stop vanished long ago – the unit is now a softcore hardware store; those friends are long gone; Brad himself is still chooglin’.

However: “It’s not the years, honey, it’s the mileage” – his teeth are worn and bent; his hair is thinning like no tomorrow; and he doesn’t seem to remember ever owning a droid…

But his pecs are – by Jove! – still as firm and pliant as ever!

HUZZAH!

Be Kind, Rewind