I'll be bum-swizzled

Jon Pertwee would have been 100 today. He was of course the Third Doctor, Wurzel Gummidge and Chief Petty Officer Pertwee, but was also well known to some us as the owner of a takeaway burger bar near Acton Town tube station around 1980.

This is the station, not the burger bar

My own doctor was the original, i.e. William Hartnell, and to be honest I had slightly lost interest by Pertwee's time. I can however recall being bemused as to why a Brigadier appeared to be in charge of a single rifle section, but given the size of the British army now it appears just to have been a case of the scriptwriters of a science-fiction series accurately predicting the future.

I was never a big Wurzel Gummidge fan, but it also starred Leeds born actor Geoffrey Bayldon, better known as Catweazle, which programme was much more to my taste. To complete the circle a little, Alan Rowe, Bayldon's life partner, appeared in Dr Who opposite Pertwee, and indeed opposite Patrick Troughton and Tom Baker too.

Mary, Mary, quite contrary

"We have a scourge upon our land. Tis a woman with a crown." - John Knox

That quote obviously comes from the film 'Mary Queen of Scots' (spoken by David Tennant  unrecognisable behind a hugely impressive beard) rather than being historical fact; indeed any relationship between the film and what actually happened would appear to be accidental. The geography wasn't any better either: the scene labelled 'The Border' was clearly nowhere of the kind and they rather traduced Carlisle, which is a perfectly pleasant place, but was made to look like an outpost of Mordor. In fact visually the whole film was reminiscent of 'Lord of the Rings', although I would of course be the last person to draw any parallels between Orcs and Scotsmen. It was all enjoyable enough though and contained some fine acting as did all the films I'm going to mention.

"Looks like deep fried Mars bars are back on the menu boys."

Despite her own end being not exactly what she would have wished for, it was Mary's descendants rather than Elizabeth's who went on to reign over both England and Scotland. Queen Anne was, I think, her great-granddaughter and 'The Favourite' addresses aspects of the life of the last of the Stuart dynasty with what appears to be a similarly cavalier attitude to accuracy. It is a much better film though, despite the strange ending. Any film whose credits include 'Nude Pomegranate Tory' and 'Fastest Duck in the City' is going to be OK with me.

Boris Johnson

'All is True', which takes us back to the reign of Mary's son, is rather downbeat, melancholy even. Judi Dench is far too old to play Anne Hathaway opposite Kenneth Branagh, and whole chunks of it make no sense at all, with entire subplots disappearing left right and centre. It is however rescued by the acting especially Sir Ian McKellen. To hear him and Branagh each recite Sonnet 29 in very different ways is worth your time and money on its own.

"Fly you fools!"

I have also seen 'Colette' which, being set in 19th century France, has nothing to do with the Stuarts, but does feature a strong female character who has to put up with a lot of crap from the man in her life. She takes a leaf out of Queen Anne's book (specifically the version of it as portrayed in the film), replaces him with a woman or two and seems to be all the happier for it. And, last but not least, the film that I have seen this year which I would recommend the most is 'Stan & Ollie', a lovely paean to friendship. If the pair's final show together doesn't bring a tear to your eye then you have no soul.

"That's another fine mess you've gotten us into."

Very flat, Norfolk

There has been a little bit of debate in the UK recently about whether it's appropriate for able-bodied actors to take parts where the character is disabled. I tend to start from the premise that acting is about pretending to be someone else, and would prefer to see the discussion focus on whether disabled actors should be regularly offered the chance to play characters where having a disability or not is irrelevant. I mention this because I have been to see 'The Merry Wives of Windsor' and it occurred to me that no one has ever campaigned for the role of Falstaff (*) to be restricted to fat blokes. So it was that David Troughton donned a fat suit and waggled his codpiece in the face of unsuspecting theatregoers, causing everyone to enjoy themselves almost as much as he did. Troughton is of course the son of the Second Doctor; perhaps only those with two hearts should be allowed to portray Time Lords.

I have also been to see 'Othello', and find myself on this occasion taking the view that it is only appropriate for the title role to be played by black actors. This could be hypocrisy, although I prefer to see it as an example of Niels Bohr's definition of a great truth, one whose opposite is also true. The Moor has to be black and Desdemona has to be white.

"Even now, now, very now, an old black ram
 is tupping your white ewe"

The only way a white actor could play it is to black up, and to do that carries such offensive overtones that it is unthinkable. It is worth pointing out that the same logic in reverse applies to every other part in the play. If a touring company turns up in town performing Shakespeare for a night or two one must assume that the piece is one of this year's set books, and sure enough the place was full of schoolchildren. I always think that adds something to the atmosphere; it's more of an event for them than it is for jaundiced old gits like your bloggist, they have studied the work, they get more involved and they react more strongly. Having said that, Epictetus leapt right out of his seat at Othello's final gesture; despite knowing what he was going to do I didn't see it coming as it were.

I didn't much care for the National Theatre's version of Strindberg's 'Miss Julie', which was updated to include similar racial overtones to Othello and by so doing lost any sense of drama. In the original the daughter of a 19th century Swedish aristocrat has an affair with a servant with tragic consequences inevitably arising from this challenging of society's strictures. In this production the spoilt 21st century daughter of a wealthy man has a quickie with her father's black chauffeur, cue a collective shrug of 'so what' from the audience and no rationale at all for the play's ending.

Coming back to disability, Sandi Toksvig's 'Silver Lining' features a character in a wheelchair - played on this occasion by an actress who was certainly able to rise for her bow at the end - but also contains some very well written and realistic older people, noteworthy enough in itself. As anyone who has ever seen Ms Toksvig would expect it also has a lot of very funny lines. Similarly funny, but sadly featuring a very badly written older person was 'Party Piece', wherein a woman appeared to be at least fifty years older than her son. Noel Coward's 'Private Lives' was also very amusing and the characters were exclusively middle aged. And, as my companion for the evening observed when I sought her opinion afterwards, they all needed a good slap; hard to disagree really.

Which only leaves one more play seen in September, the very odd 'War with the Newts'. This was a totally immersive experience, with us all - audience and cast - in what was decked out as the hull of a ship; indeed all the audience except me had to sit on upturned oyster crates; I got a chair for reasons which were never explained, although I did get the word 'Leading' stamped on the back of my hand, which may or may not have something to do with it. It's based on Karel Čapek's novel, which I haven't read (and, let's be honest, am never going to either) and I sort of assumed as it went on that the human race would learn its lesson and after the many early disasters would become wiser and be able to rebuild civilisation, but better this time round. However, somewhat disconcertingly the newts won, and mankind was wiped out; the science fiction equivalent of us all getting the good slap which we no doubt deserve.


(*) A completely irrelevant piece of information that I can't resist sharing with you is that it was once seriously suggested that the SI unit for the rate of flow of a liquid should be named the Falstaff.

Une piece bien faite

And so to the theatre. I have been to see Alan Ayckbourn's 'Relatively Speaking'. Whilst there is an overlap with the themes of 'Deep Blue Sea' and both are 'well-made' plays - Rattigan's because that's what he did and Ayckbourn's because Stephen Joseph told him to write one - this piece isn't trying to make any particular point; the author fully abides by the limits that farce places on character depth and development. He's just trying to make people laugh and, as usual with this playwright, he succeeds. It's a very funny play, despite essentially being one joke stretched over two hours. And as it happened the largest laugh came in response to the suggestion that a husband's shame at finding out that his wife is having an affair would apparently be all the greater if it was discovered that the man in question was very much older than her, albeit coupled with admiration for the fact that the lover was still up to it at his age.

The stars were Robert Powell and Liza Goddard. I don't wish to diminish Goddard's career, but surely the most interesting thing about her is that she has been married to both Doctor Who and Alvin Stardust; she should be a pub quiz question. Powell on the other hand will always be, at least for someone of my vintage, the Son of God in Zeffirelli's 'Jesus of Nazereth'.

Possibly the least followed of all Christ's teachings, although there are many contenders

Powell had no problems delivering Ayckbourn's lines though; after all he had long ago demonstrated his comedic chops in 'The Detectives' with Jasper Carrot. If you've never seen it then you're in for a treat; it can be found on YouTube.

Possibly the funniest of the episodes of 'The Detectives'; although there are many contenders

I can't remember whether I mentioned it, but the Carmen I saw in Verona was also directed by Zeffirelli. He is, and like Alan Bennett he is still thankfully with us, a man of huge influence and range of achievements. My own personal favourite is that he was reputedly the inspiration for Uncle Monty in 'Withnail and I' as played by the late, great Richard Griffiths: "There is a certain je ne sais quoi - oh, so very special - about a firm, young carrot...Excuse me..."

But I just looked around and he was gone

To a seven year old boy there was no doubt as to which of the two events that weekend was the more important. Dr Who quickly became an obsession with me and remained so for many years. We're all supposed to have 'our' doctor and mine is and always has been William Hartnell.

However, in all the commemorations in the media it is to the assassination of JFK that I have been drawn. Not that I have a terribly high regard for the man. As, ironically enough, he himself said  "The great enemy of truth is very often not the lie - deliberate, contrived and dishonest - but the myth - persistent, persuasive and unrealistic.". But I do recall well the events of that night. It's not my earliest memory. I can remember the Cuban missile crisis; now that was scary. Rather I can recall my father - a man with no interest in politics or current affairs - being genuinely moved as he tried to explain to my sister and I what had happened.

And it is for that, for the memory of my long dead father that it brings to mind, that I have been an attentive audience for the anniversary programmes. Unlike Kennedy he has left no permanent mark on the public record and after my sister and I are dead he will be forgotten. Brief and ephemeral as they may be these moments when I can see him again, even if it is only in my mind, are precious to me.

It's the time of the season

I have completed a full A-Z of sixties music in two days. On Friday it was the mighty, mighty Abyssinians and last night it was the Zombies. They shared a number of features: excellent concerts, vocally superb and they looked well old. The St Albans pop band didn't look as bad as the roots reggae stars, but then again they don't come from a third world country and have not, one assumes, smoked industrial quantities of weed over the last half century.

And featuring Guy the gorilla on vox humana

Anyway, musically they were just fantastic and deserved the standing ovation that they got. Colin Blunstone was in simply glorious voice. They played a mix of old Zombies numbers, stuff from Blunstone's solo career, a couple of Argent songs (the bass player had been in that band alongside Rod Argent), a few from a new album and a couple of covers from such as Little Anthony and the Imperials and, unexpectedly, Porgy and Bess.

But what did they look like, I hear you ask. Well the bass player (also ex-Kinks) had decided to go for the Doctor Who look. Not Matt Smith, but rather the Doctor from the time that band was formed.

Well, no-one told me about her

Colin Blunstone seems to have morphed into a slightly more cheerful version of Denethor, son of Ecthelion, 26th Steward of Gondor, but the highest praise must be reserved for Rod Argent. He was rocking the full Camilla Parker Bowles although dressed for mucking out the stables rather than the state opening of parliament.

Hold your head uuuuup

Earlier in the day, I went 10 pin bowling (I won all three games since you ask) and met someone who openly and freely identified himself as a wargamer. I don't think that I've ever met one just in the normal course of social intercourse before. Normally we only reveal ourselves when huddled together for comfort and protection. The UK is obviously becoming a more tolerant and open society. Do you hear that, UKIP?

The Hobbit

I enjoyed it, but to be honest it is basically the same scenes and dialogue from Lord of the Rings shuffled into a different order. There are more hedgehogs in this one though.

Herbie - as not featured in The Hobbit

Do you remember the beat combos of your youth? Whenever they had a hit record they just made another one that was basically the same in the hope that people would buy that as well. Peter Jackson obviously does because that's what he's done. Pick your favourite scene from LotR and there will be a version of it here.

One further thought: why do the baddies fill their armies with Orcs and Goblins when they are so useless at fighting? Oh, and another thought: Barry Humphries is very good, as is Sylvester McCoy.

And, finally, apropos of nothing, I have had my first roast turkey of the season.

Why am I back?

Well, the blog had its first reader, the esteemed Conrad Kinch no less, and so I thought 'Why not?'.

I have taken up residence pro tem in Clarence Dock and can see the entrance to the Royal Armouries from where I sit typing this. I haven't set foot inside there since I've been here except to have the odd double espresso in their coffee bar. I have however been into their conference centre, which when I moved in was known as Savile's and now isn't, as part of the abrupt disappearance of the apparently flawed disc-jockey. This is because that's where the Fiasco wargames show is held. My visit there was disappointingly short because I had badly hurt my back a couple of days before, sneezing violently. Sadly this is a true story.

Anyway, I didn't get to see much at the show except to chew the fat with James Roach and Peter Jackson around their ancient galley warfare game. I did get a chance to admire Brian's marvellous scratchbuilt Bismark made from, among other things, cornflake packets. I then spent the afternoon laying on my floor to ease my back pain.

The other notable event held there recently (I discount the European Conference on Bio-Solids which appeared to be about exactly what you imagine when you first see the word Bio-Solids) was a comic book convention at which it seems to have been compulsory to attend in costume. Being old and not down with the kids I didn't recognise most of the characters, but there was a splendid Batman, Joker and Penguin. My early favourite was a very good David Tennant era Doctor Who complete with a Dalek and an Amy Pond stylee assistant. However, they were overshadowed by the arrival of Wonder Woman, who was, how can I put this, a very healthy girl. I was obliged to inspect the details of her costume rather closely. [Note to self - this type of behaviour is how you got into trouble in the first place.]