"We're the Martians!"

I've lost count how many times I've seen it, but Quatermass and the Pit still stands out has a bloody good piece of horror/sf cinema, but don't ask me why it was decided to rename the film "Five Million Years to Earth" for the US market.

Scripted by Nigel Kneale, based on his earlier BBCtv series, and directed by Hammer films' stalwart Roy Ward Baker, what I really like about the film is its sense of Englishness and the hear and now (albeit 1967).

The characters, the location; the way the supernatural element is subtly interwove into the storyline (the sweaty copper looking increasingly distraught inside a ruined house is still far scarier than any CGI monstrosity).

Also, the music: Tristram Cary's electronics brings the same errie quality that Delia Derbyshire and the Radiophonic Workshop brought to Dr Who - what perfect way to highlight the otherworldlyness than by using something totally alien to the then viewers? The synthesiser of course.

There are no huge award-winning honours to bestow upon the cast - given such far-fetched material, they just did the necessary job - but Andrew Keir as the headstrong eponymous Professor just looks perfect, and James Donald also deserves some praise as Dr Roney (the acheologist/palentologist/whatever - it's never truly explained). Despite no great acting performances, my favourites though are Julian Glover as Colonel Breen and the civilian driller who descends into madness ("leaping, leaping everywhere!")

The true honours for this film, though, goes to Kneale and Baker: a highly literate, intelligent script, handled with care by a director who doesn't allow his cast and the story to descend into daftness.

As for the story? As if you didn't know... what, you mean you haven't seen it? Dear god, man (or woman) where have you been! Rush over to play, amazon or whatever your preferred dvd stockist is and buy it now.

Trust me, if you like sf or horror then you won't be disappointed - though being Hammer and the 60s, some things have dated a little.

It's not hip to say this...

.... but Dire Straits is a damned fine band - currently listening to Telegraph Road, and the song is sheer genius: not just Knopfler's guitar and lyrics, but Pick Withers drumming is just fantastic.

I "acquired" the song, but I've now gone and purchased the album, and they say piracy is killing music?

What is it with eBay?

That attracts so many, well, strange people? This is just priceless.

... and the award goes to...

Stuart Young for his novella The Mask Behind the Face. I loved reading it prior to publication, but - and we're both agreed on this - but how do you market it? Anyway, I published it and it sold well, and gathered quite a few good reviews, but then the BFS Awards were announced, Stu found himself up against Joe Hill in the Novella and Collection category.

Stu knew for certain he wouldn't win, but I kept saying it might, it just might wing it as Best Novella... anyway, yesterday afternoon: it did. :-)

I did take a load of photographs from last weekend, but unfortunately most came out very blurry. Maybe, just maybe, my trusty Olympus digi-cam is slowly giving up the ghost?

Or perhaps I was more pissed than I thought. Yeah, thought so!

Anyway, I'll be updating the website within the next couple of days with what did come out okay and a brief reportage.

But, until then, share a warm round of applause for Stu. And Ben Baldwin for the cover art.

Away... Away? What's "away" in Spanish?

Not that I'm going to Spain you understand - much closer than that: sunny Nottingham for the annual FantasyCon where I hope to sell a few books, quoff a few beers, have a curry or two, and generally talk a load of nonsense (not strictly in that order you understand...)

The quote, though, that's from Fawlty Towers if you didn't know... (the clip doesn't actually correlate with the quote, but it's still damn good).

Anyway, I digress: I shall be out of the Principality from Friday to Sunday - I hope you all remember to switch your own lights off now...

TTFN.

Last week, I did...

On Tuesday, I was cultured: watched the performance of Orange - a play set in Cardiff, written by Alan Harris. Of the three in the cast, two were relative unknowns, and apart from each occasionally lapsing into being an ex-member of Goldie Lookin' Chain, they were very good and believeable.

Wednesday, I received the dvd boxset of Nigel Kneale's Beasts - I was due to go for my first scuba-diving lesson (!) but 'twas cancelled, so watched the first episode, which scared the crap out of me, and made me realise just how shit today's television is.

Friday was big launch day: drove to the Dylan Thomas Centre, to sell some books and witness Rhys Hughes's gradual descent into red-wine drunkenness. Around thirty to forty people turned up, I sold quite a few copies, met up with Brian Willis again after a couple of years, along with Mike O'Driscoll (who was also there launching his collection Unbecoming), Bob Lock and Steve Redwood, along with D and Gavin Salisbury from Whispers of Wickedness.

Sadly, since I was driving and despite paying for the wine, I drank just one glass. :( Mind you, all that will change this weekend: Fantasycon - once that car is parked up on Friday afternoon, it ain't moving until Sunday! :)

Saturday? Saturday... couple of drinks in the afternoon, continued to watch Beasts in the evening. Sunday: watched The Black Dahlia which I found a little disappointing: as a 1940s noir pastiche, it was spot on - the voice-over, blonde bombshell, femme fatale, the whole nine yards - but has a modern piece of film-making, it felt pedestrian; the voice-over overblown, the cast all beautiful, and trying their best, but it didn't feel natural.

On technical level, it displays De Palma's usual directorial extravagance, and the set design and art direction were superb, but it was no Untouchables nor LA Confidential (based on another James Ellroy novel). Perhaps the plot-line was just too dense, and two hours is nowhere near enough to give the story justice, which is a pity since the actual true story it was inspired by - the murder of Elizabeth Short - is quite brutal, nasty and engrossing.

Sunday night? I finished watching Beasts, and my favourite episodes were: "Baby", "Special Offer" and "During Barty's Party". Despite all the episodes being essentially studio-bound, Kneale's superb writing coupled with expert direction and a cast who could act, each episode were great pieces of suspenseful drama. For a series that is now thirty years old, it is criminally under-rated for not being repeated once and the dvd release almost going un-noticed. If you have a spare fifteen quid burning a hole in your pocket, then click on the earlier link - I'm pretty sure that you won't regret it.

Don't ask me to give you your money back if you do.

Oh, and if you're going to Fantasycon this weekend, mine'll be a Guinness. :)

My God!

Keanu Reeves can act! :)

I watched A Scanner Darkly last night: a superb film from Richard Linklater which, I suspect, will achieve much greater appraisal while on dvd.

Probably the best adaptation of a PKD story yet - though Bladerunner is still my favourite PKD film. Linklater lifts entire scenes from the book, and treats the material with almost religious reverence.

Visually, it's stunning to watch - the "scramble-suit" works considerably well, and after only a minute you don't notice it's animated: there were times when I thought I was watching "live action" then did a quick double-take.

As I stated, Reeves is very good - but Robert Downey Jnr steals the show has Barris. On the whole, the cast for the film is nigh on perfect - no doubt helped by the fact that many have, or did have, an affinity to certain narcotic substances.

I can see the film receiving three Oscar nominations next year, but it won't win any: best adapted screenplay; best supporting actor for Downey Jnr; and, best visual effects.

If you have missed the cinema release, and until the dvd comes out, then I recommend you read the book.

In other news, I received the dvd of Beasts on Friday, and watched the first two episodes: "Baby" and "Buddy-boy". Being the mid-70s, it has dated a little bit - check out those flares and leather-elbow pads - but so far the tales are incredibly atmospheric; I was a little disappointed with the latter (Martin Shaw as a porn baron was very good, but the music really spoiled it) but the former tale scared me shitless, and that last image will probably remain with me for a long time...

Well, that was my weekend - next Friday should be fun: the launch of Rhys Hughes's At the Molehills of Madness in Swansea. The alcohol and book selling situation has been agreed, so all there's left to do is ask: will you be there - and if so, make sure you buy a sodding book. :)