Showing posts with label Diagnosis Murder. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Diagnosis Murder. Show all posts

Friday, 20 February 2009

Moses Who? He's Hardly Even There!


Yes kids, I’m back! Did you miss me?

I’m recently returned into the bastion of home (ie a dirt-encrusted hellhole out in the middle of nowhere) after returning from a couple of days in Edinburgh (or as you Americans like to say, Edimburroo - learn proper English, you twonks! Or Scottish even) whereupon I won an actual proper award for my writing (okay, you don’t have to believe that, but it’s very definitely totally f%^&ing true, God’s honest truth guv). Thankfully for the lot of you my ‘deeply interesting and accomplished’ (actual genuine quote from a proper well-educated academic and everything) short story most probably will not be showing up around these parts since this blog (for the benefit of you newcomers, ie anyone) is basically a forum for me to rip the piss out of Doctor Who and the world of sci-fi in general. And no, I still haven’t got around to finishing my piece on The Next Doctor, but that will be just around the bend for anyone who’s still waiting on tenterhooks to read it (ie nobody probably).

SHIT

So while I was in a fairly shoddy hotel room in Edinburgh (being a veteran of the hotel trade, I could possibly do a whole entry on things that can go wrong in budget hotels - sugar bowls instead of teacups? Soup spoons instead of desert spoons? Bloodstains on room walls??? No really. I could go on. I won’t) and in the wake of just having been applauded (a lot) for my amazing short story (which made absolutely no f%^&ing sense anyway, so somehow I managed to bamboozle the judge with my incredible visionary prose which might as well have just been scrawled out in ten minutes, on the back door of a toilet stall, in excrement, by an alcoholic psychopath - ie more like this blog) I managed to catch a significant portion of the first and third episodes of Moses Jones on ye olde telly box (I missed the second part and was too lazy to go back and watch it on the BBC iPlayer, since IT ALMOST NEVER F%^&ING EVER WORKS AT ALL, but we’ll probably come back to that thorny issue in later posts).


SPOT THE WHO ACTOR (OR DON'T)

Being not the sort of person who tends to ever bother watching proper ‘drama’ on televison - ie anything that isn’t in some way sci-fi, fantasy or horror-esque - I decided to give this a cursory glance. And what's more, this wasn't even exclusively down to the fact that this bloke Mark E. Smith from out of the Fall had a significant role in it. And maybe he had more to do in part two, but crikey, it was very much a case of don’t blink (no Who-episode related pun intended) or you’ll miss him - I think he only had about two lines in the final episode. Owing to my sporadic paying-of-attention to said series, I unfortunately had very little idea what was going on in the general plot department, other than some reasonably mad stuff to do with immigrant workers, brothels, voodoo and Idi Amin, four subject areas which - going by the general feel of the show - might almost put Moses Jones into the realm of the fantastical.

TWENTYWHAT???

So rather than Who Eleven (playing the unusually-named Dan Twentyman - surely it should have been Doc Elevenman? Okay maybe not) the main star of the show was the always excellent Shaun Parkes, who also starred in the filmed adaptation of Moses Jones writer Joe Penhall’s play Blue/Orange - and, of course, has already been in Nu-Who, back in the season two 2-parter Impossible Planet / Satan Pit. It’s roundabout noticing this that any Doctor Who fan inevitably starts playing the game of ‘Spot the nu-Doctor Who bit-part guest actor who’s a tiny bit more famous and well known now’ when watching virtually anything new on British TV or even in movies - the same sort of rule you can apply to watching old episodes of virtually any long-running television series from the last twenty years or so. (Good grief! There's Someone out of Something showing up in an episode of Diagnosis Murder from ages ago! And they're the flipping murderer! How unbelievably exciting!)


I'VE BEEN IN DOCTOR WHO, GET ME INTO SOMETHING ELSE

There’s also the emerging tendency in the new wave of major British fantasy-type shows to feature actors who have had recent prominent roles in Who - see Being Human, Merlin, Survivors and no doubt the rest, virtually all of which seem to invite a protracted amount of ‘oh look, there’s him out of Voyage Of The Damned / her out of Gridlock / him out of the Shakespeare Code (and that’s just the main cast of Being Human). Moses Jones also featured Indira Varma better known (to some) as the only slightly dead Suzy Costello in Torchwood. Despite all this diversion and despite my not actually paying not that much attention to it, the series was intriguing enough that I’d certainly tune in to another series, with or without Mark E. Smith - who this little article was originally going to be about but, going on how little I saw of him in Moses Jones, I couldn’t really have all that much to say anyway. Other than that he’s definitely an interesting character, and I’m now all the more interested/terrified to see what’s going to happen when he finally takes over from Tenners in Doctor Who.

And for a final comment on Moses Jones, it certainly makes a change to see a mainstream British TV drama where there’s an almost exclusively non-white cast, with Mr. Smith being relegated to playing the often-seen stereotype of ‘token slightly useless white sidekick’ role which in so-many rubbish movies is so often filled by the token black actor. This degree of reverse-role progressive thinking in TV is mildly amusing, and perfectly fine by me.

And when it comes to spotting actors who’ve showed up in Doctor Who, Dennis Waterman also cropped up briefly in Moses Jones. He hasn’t been in Who yet! Surely this can’t be legal. What the hell’s going on?

Sunday, 4 January 2009

A Friendly Greeting From David Tennant


Hey there everybody. My name is David Tennant - woops, sorry - James Nesbitt.


Shit! No - actually I'm Paterson Joseph. I'm secretly in disguise now because my private life has been made into a living hell by all those screaming fangirls who keep chasing me down the street and wanting to rub my hair before demanding I recite them some of the more rude bits out of Hamlet in my genuine actual Bathgate accent. Can't a bloke get some peace? It's not like I'm famous or anything!


So in order to protect my identity I must assure you all at this point that I really am definitely Robert Carlyle. He can't be me, he's Scottish!


Or maybe Chiwetel Ejiofor if you squint a bit and can spell his name, which I can't cos I had to look it up on the internet which it took me ages to find since like I said how am I supposed to find out how his name's spelt if I can't type it in? The world is a difficult and confusing place sometimes. Sigh.


All of this means that I'm definitely not the Doctor or anything. Or at least, I won't be by the time anyone gets around to reading any of this. So by that point I'll definitely be safe from exploding teenage girls and those creepy and slightly older men who occasionally chase me around Cardiff sceaming all kinds of unpleasant things about how I've totally ruined something, or killed it forever... some TV programme I've been involved with, not sure which one. Might've been Blackpool.


I'm a proper actor, you know. I can do accents and everything. (Cor blimey love a duck! That's one.) Now that I’ve been set free from Russell T. Davies’s Big Contractual Torture Dungeon (where I spent a punishing four years being hung over a custom-built cliff by Russell himself, since he had been a bit upset that there weren't enough actual cliffhangers for the Doctor in Nu-Who and had to physically enact them himself in order to feel truly satisfied and content in his life) I'm doing a little moonlighting as a TV detective and professional opener of blogs that specialize in mainly ripping the piss out of anything to do with Doctor Who.


So in my capacity as that then, I'd like to invite you all to stick your eyes right into this here thing called televisionoff. Go on. Stick them right in till they're bleeding! STICK THEM IN!!! You can even take them out of your head if you want.


Hang on - televisionoff? Just a minute, let me just type that in... Nope. I've tried searching for it and I can't f$%^ing find anything! What a waste of time! If I were you I think you'd be better off reading Angry Who Fan instead. At least that's funny.


Anyway, cheerio for now - I'm off to sneak into a hospital, put on a white coat, try and pass myself off as a bumbling but loveable medical professional and hopefully solve a murder or two.
I bet it was that loud, bespectacled, award-winning Welsh television producer who really killed the Doctor! Arrest him, Steve!


(note for readers - this is an elaborate and quite probably pointless joke referring to Diagnosis Murder. It may or may not return in the future. Or in the past seeing as how this is Doctor Who. You have been warned).