When it comes to recommending stuff from this year, it’d be very easy to choose things I like that a lot of other people like too: The Dark Knight; Iron Man; the work of John Scalzi and Brian Michael Bendis; Fringe and The Wire. So rather than do that, I thought I’d add a new headache to this demented progression towards Christmas (and the work’s going fine this morning, thanks for asking) by only choosing stuff that’s a little more backwater, that maybe needs some more light shining on it. So here, in no particular order, is my Ten Things I Loved, from across all media:
Ninja Warrior. In Japan, it’s called Sasuke. Here, it’s shown on Challenge TV, of all places, and is trailed like it’s one of those ‘let’s laugh at the funny Japanese falling off things’ shows. The fact that it’s narrated by Stuart Hall (who became famous laughing at the funny Europeans on Jeux Sans Frontieres) doesn’t help. But actually, it’s presented as a demanding and competitive show, and Hall is in worshipful sports commentary mode most of the time, letting the humour in only where the Japanese original does. The format’s simple: an insanely difficult series of assault courses, which typical whittle one hundred contestants down to around a dozen or so. After the first round. Of four. Only two men have ever actually finished the whole thing. We learn almost nothing about the individuals involved, meeting them in the few seconds before they start running. Nobody gets to say they’re doing it for their poor sick Mum. But the good and the useless return every year. In the first round, comedians and eccentrics like the model maker who’s a Japanese version of Charles Hawtrey, and looks astonished every time he fails the first obstacle, join those having a go. By the second round, those guys have gone, and it’s about holding your body weight by the first joint on your fingers, and then reaching up to a higher ledge. It’s actually Olympic standard sport in its own way (with former Olympian gymnasts being among the most successful contestants). It’s insanely addictive, and I suspect the only reason nobody’s done it over here is that the strictness of the format wouldn’t allow for a lot of gushing and post-celebrity grandstanding. I’d love to see The Mighty Boosh making a courageous attempt at the first round and Matthew Pinsent getting to the last stage. Oh well, one can dream.
Indiana Jones and the Tomb of the Gods. This currently-running miniseries from Dark Horse Comics is perhaps the best representation of Indy in comic form, and an absolute pleasure for fans of our hero. It’s written by my mate Rob Williams, who did Class War and some of the bestStar Wars comics and is surely going to get a major superhero gig sometime soon, and is drawn by Steve Scott, who’s one of those comic artists we seem to have a few more of these days, who can convey photo-realist likeness without stiff poses, in panels that have room to breathe. Their Marcus Brody is a particular treat, Denholm Elliott continuing to delight, post-mortem, in comic book form! The comic is set at a particular point in the Raiders timeline, after Temple but before Raiders itself, and understands what is neccessary to give us goosebumps (that is, a recognition of character and theme) and what would be a generic rehash (there’s an entirely new quest that feels absolutely right). Williams also gets the fact that Indy’s a genuine archaeologist and only a reluctant hero, that he sighs before having to swing from anything. Delightful stuff. You can find some samples on Williams’ blog:
Mushishi. This anime is coming out on DVD currently. It’s the story of Ginko, the titular Mushishi (that is, Mushi master), who wanders rural Japan, helping people with their Mushi-related problems. Mushi are nature spirits, the most natural representation possible of the supernatural, a whole order of magical animals that most resemble bacteria in their characterisation. They can be understood, catalogued, dealt with, used, and Ginko uses his knowledge and tricks of the trade to do that. The series is completely episodic, with Ginko arriving in town, discovering the problem, and then going on his way again. It’s an anthology of emotional burdens, grief and human drama. In ‘One Night Bridge’, for example, a young woman who fell, it seemed, to her death when a bridge collapsed, lives on in her village. But the man who loves her knows she’s not who she once was. In ‘String From the Sky’, similarly, villagers are suspicious of a woman who grabbed a white string that dangled from above, was whisked up into the sky, and then returned. These stories and others like them are often metaphorical, dealing with small town jealousies and bigotries. Ginko walks through it all largely unmoved, the Man With No Name as botanist, trying to tell people not to be such damn fools. The animation, depicting lush countryside, is glorious, as is the music. It moves slowly, but delivers a big emotional hit. And Ginko’s past is gradually revealed to us, alongside the startling moments when we realise that, although he hasn’t said anything, he’s fallen in love. One for those people who still think anime is about robots fighting. (Those people being divided into two camps: people who’ve never seen any, and people who’ve seen loads, but the wrong ones.)
July Skies. This is a band about which I know very little, but whose music I find very pleasing indeed. They’re very English, their The Weather Clock album out this year featuring titles like ‘Broadcasts for Autumn Term’ and ‘Distant Showers Sweep Across Norfolk Schools’. Which might suggest tweeness, but their soundscapes fall on the womblike, comforting, blustery side of that line. I suspect they know Wiltshire, because of all the references to Silbury Hill and the like. I think they’re beautiful, and I’d love to learn and hear more. They can be found at:
Strangers. This ITV police drama series dates back to 1978-1982, but is being released on DVD now by Network. I loved it at the time, and was lucky enough to work with lead writer Murray Smith towards the end of his life, and I was interested to see if I would still feel the same now. I must admit, initially I was sceptical. The first season is frankly terrible. It’s got an offhand attitude towards plot that one couldn’t get away with these days, and leading lady Frances Tomelty is obviously wondering what the hell she’s doing there. (She’s got a Howard the Duckposter in her flat, in what looks like some weird attempt at sidelong characterisation.) After that, however, things improve very swiftly. This is the story of undercover coppers (including Don Henderson’s iconic George Bulman) who are strangers to Manchester, and thus unknown by the gangs. (Though you wait in vain in the first season for someone to explore that format.) By the end of season two, however, Murray Smith (who was once, as becomes obvious, an actual copper) is turning out stone cold classics like ‘Marriages, Deaths and Births’, which dissects a criminal wedding, a manhunt and the kidnapping of a copper, and my biggest crush in those days, Fiona Mollison has shown up as eccentric fast car specialist DC Vanessa Bennett (Frances Tomelty having wandered off mid-season in a way which I’d love to hear the behind the scenes story of). There’s a madness to these stories which feels like absurd realism, like the bicycle chase at the end of ‘The Wheeler Dealers’, like the stories coppers tell in pubs. But beside that there’s also absolute grip, and plots that snap shut like snatch operations. If you like The Wire, you might well enjoy this. But give the first DVD a miss.
Charles Fort, The Man Who Invented The Supernatural by Jim Steinmeyer. I’m always interested in matters Fortean, but what could have been a dry as dust biography turns out to be anything but, as Steinmeyer shows that Fort’s life, a very New York story of denied inheritance and grinding poverty, through which Fort managed to keep one eye always on the impossible, is the greatest fanboy story of all. Fort was victim of monstrous parental cruelty, combined with vast expectation and terrible responsibility. He displayed something like post traumatic stress syndrome for the rest of his life, socially shy to the point of running away from any party where he might be feted. He took himself off to try and experience the extremes of life and learn to be a writer, setting himself horrible challenges out of a need to prove himself. And yet he was a loving, romantic husband and great fun by correspondence. He found his happy ending through his determination that the view accepted by the general public, of anything really, was almost certainly wrong. I found myself loving him, by the end. Though he probably wouldn’t have been able to make eye contact with me as I shook his hand. A great insight into where mysteries, and mystery, came from.
Multireal by David Louis Edelman. I’ve already raved about this SF novel, the sequel toInfoquake, on this blog, so suffice it to say that this will get my Hugo vote for Best Novel. Edelman is pushing forward a new sort of SF here, one based not in the myths and magic of the Singularity (someone will pop up saying no, that’s not about myths and – I understand, and yes it bloody is!) but in the continual, ongoing process of history, culture, and, yes, capitalism. Which isn’t lauded, as at the other extreme of the SF spectrum, but just is. Still. The notion that the easiest way to not travel and still conduct business might be through everyone keeping their bodies at home and their senses in the office seems to have become more real even between the two books. And is now starting to pop up elsewhere in SF with the serial numbers filed off. I eagerly await the end of the trilogy, and want this to win stuff now.
The I,Fanboy Pick of the Week Podcast. Okay, so these guys have interviewed me and reviewed my work positively, so I should delare an interest. But far from being just my favourite podcast, this is actually my favourite radio show. It’s just three guys who each week take turns to pick their favourite comic from those they’ve read that week, which they then talk about, and review along with a few others from that week. They keep their tastes varied, their banter bounces along (the saving grace of the best podcasts, the worst of which assume that you want to hear their hosts laughing, rather than saying things that will make you laugh) and their enthusiasm will make you want to check out titles you wouldn’t have dreamt of looking at before. Which can only be good for the medium. And they’ve got a whole community going with, like, only Paul Dini as a columnist. Check it out, and imagine me listening with my lunch every Monday:
Popular. The UK’s Number One singles, reviewed in order by a blogger who treats them seriously, and a vast, articulate squad of commenters. They treat pop music as cultural history, a serious medium in its own right and something you can dance to. They’re currently up to ‘Shaddap You Face’ by Joe Dolce. Soon, soon, the run of hideous Number Ones will be over. It’s vastly addictive, and even better, if you feell up to it, you can join in. This is Nick Setchfield fromSFX magazine’s favourite thing. Find it here:
And finally, let me mention two old friends of the blog, whose work continues to impress. Laurie Pink is the artist responsible for the lovely ‘Paul and Mike’ cartoons of which I can distantly claim to be half the inspiration. She’s now got a range of Facebook icons available:
… my favourite of which is probably ‘Suspicious Chicken’.
And Penny Broadhurst has continued her rise to pop fame this year with appearances on the BBC and a new EP, ‘Sparkle the Dark’ available now. There are quite often Doctor Whoreferences in her songs, but she’s not a pastiche act, but someone who does bold, living pop. Find her here:
So that’s it for my sideways choices this year. Tomorrow I hope to show you some of my workspace. So first I should probably clear up.
The Adventures of the Amazing Scale Guy… Day Four.
‘Scale Guy, Scale Guy, does whatever a Scale Guy does. But he’s the best at what he does. And what he does is demonstrate relative size. Da de dah de dah…’
Today, Essential Scale Guy, from 1965:
‘Yeah, they size they want me around. When they need to know the scale of something. Big deal! Precisely this big a deal, in fact. But they fear and resent someone who gives them perspective. Face it, pal, where you walk, you walk alone. Precisely this much alone. Which is… entirely.’
See you tomorrow! Ho ho ho! Cheerio!
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