Behind the Sofa

My first memories of watching Doctor Who are from the mid 1960s, sitting in my pyjamas having had my evening bath, in front of a coal fire at my Gran's house in Belfast. I can also remember the series that gave me my first nightmare: The Underwater Menace. Broadcast in early 1967, the plot

revolves around plans to raise the lost city of Atlantis. One of the early episodes ends with Polly, one of the Doctor's assistants, held down on an operating table and about to undergo surgery to convert her into an amphibian. These days the series isn't highly rated by Whovians, and some episodes are missing, but it had me waking up in a cold sweat that night because I was strapped on the table next to Polly and about to be converted into one of the Fish People.

Over the last couple of weeks another debate has been taking place about whether Doctor Who has become too scary for children. These debates come around every couple of years and it's bizarre really because I always thought the main point of the programme was to scare children. My problem with the more recent incarnations of Doctor Who is that often the series are so wrapped up in a plethora of subtexts and cleverness that there isn't time for the scream inducing moments. When my now teenage children first started watching a few years ago, I found myself watching them to see how often they jumped, closed their eyes or, yes, wanted to hide behind us or the sofa. I have to say the answer is they didn't do it often enough. That's not to say we don't enjoy watching Doctor Who, and there have been some fantastic episodes, it's just that it isn't very scary and it should be.

Now back to my nightmare. Perhaps it wasn't a nightmare after all but a premonition, for as a Christian you could say I have become one of the Fish People.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Roll on December 2012!

 

Can’t wait.

h/t Dave Meldrum.

#SPOTY blokes

So there I was lying in bed late last night listening to the news when the nominations for the BBC Sports Personality of the Year 2011 were announced. Something didn’t sound quite right so I double checked the list and discovered I hadn’t misheard it. Surely there must be some mistake, I thought, this can’t be right, what on earth are the BBC playing at?

Out of the ten nominations for SPOTY not one, NOT ONE, is a Manchester United footballer. What’s going on? This is the team which won the Premiership for a record breaking NINETEENTH time. The team that beat Arsenal 8-2 in the autumn of Arsene Whinger’s discontent. The team that guaranteed the final expulsion of Carlos Tevez from English shores by granting their noisy neighbours victory in the Manchester derby. The team that is helping supply the new ‘golden generation’ of England players to replace the last gilt or guilt ridden crew.

Oh, it’s also worth noting that there are no women in the shortlist. Despite Britain having several female champions in 2011 including: Sarah Stevenson (3 time Taekwondo world champion); Keri-Anne Payne & Rebecca Adlington (both Gold at the World Aquatic Championships); Kath Grainger (Gold rowing world championships for the sixth time); Chrissie Wellington (World Iron Woman champion 4th time); as well as assorted successful female footballers and cricketers. For those who claim they haven't heard of these sports women, I think that speaks volumes about the pathetic coverage these women receive in the media.

We shouldn’t be surprised that no women were nominated for SPOTY given that the BBC decided to entrust the nominations for their award to such enlightened publications as Nuts and Zoo. For those of you who have never heard of these magazines, Nuts is the one that promotes female sports like topless bread making.

Perhaps our female sports women should be grateful they were ignored by the BBC; it saves them the cringe making experience of listening to Sue Barker and Gazza Lineker trotting out crude jokes, double entendre and smutty innuendos in a pathetic attempt at what the Beeb no doubt regards as laddish sporting humour. I’m surprised the Beeb haven’t brought in Andy Gray and the other former Sky Sports clown Richard Keys to pep up the banter. Why not get in Ron Atkinson and Sepp Blatter, that will really wow the viewers?

I’ll leave the last word to Gabby Logan former gymnast and BBC sports presenter:

I can't think of anything to say about there being NO women on #SPOTY top 10 list that is positive so I won't say anything.

The Social Network

Not since Closer have I seen a film with such an unpleasant cast of characters, only this time the film was worth watching.

The Social Network recounts the origins of Facebook and the legal wrangles over who invented and contributed to developing the social media phenomenon. The genius of Aaron Sorkin’s script and David Fincher’s direction is that such an obnoxious group of individuals could make compelling viewing. The story of Facebook is recounted in a non-linear montage of scenes mainly focusing on legal depositions between the protagonists. This could have been both confusing and boring, however, no one makes people talking at breakneck speed in small rooms more interesting than Sorkin. We are taken into the world of Facebook from three different perspectives and the ambiguities about who is telling the truth and what really went on are never resolved and the viewer is left to draw their own conclusions.

The central performances from Jesse Eisenberg as Mark Zuckerberg and Andrew Garfield playing his best (only) friend Eduardo Saverin are convincing and the recognition coming the way of the actors is well deserved. Justin Timberlake is impressive with his portrayal of Sean Parker, founder of Napster, and he commits wholeheartedly to making Parker as unpleasant as possible. The supporting actors are all up to the mark and Armie Hammer as the Winklevoss twins, who claimed Zuckerberg had stolen their idea, captures a sense of arrogant entitlement perfectly. All of this simply reinforces feelings of admiration and disgust that such a group of individuals could have made themselves so unimaginably wealthy.

At the end of a very enjoyable couple of hours I was left with one overriding thought that we forget at our peril. Everyone involved in Facebook is looking for the best way to make the product as successful and ubiquitous as possible. So those of us who complain when Facebook changes privacy settings, location information or links to other companies, products and services need to remember that these guys aren’t in it to serve our interests. Zuckerberg and co. aren’t interested in creating a social network, they are interested in making Facebook the biggest beast in the digital jungle and the message of the film is that they are prepared to do whatever it takes to achieve that end.

Now I’m off to double check those privacy settings on my Facebook profile.

Tiny temper tantrums

Sat down to watch a bit of men behaving badly at The Brits last night and it turns out I should have watched the football instead. Gone are the days of overpaid, self indulgent and immature young people making fools of themselves in public. No swearing, leering and sneering, buckets of water tipped over a deputy prime minister’s head and general drunkenness and revelry. Instead we were treated to a corporate bash with winners in suits and evening gowns thanking their accountants and multi-national backers for making it all possible. No more ‘sticking it to the man’, the man was everywhere.

The whole event was epitomised by one of the winners, a very pleasant young man called Patrick Okogwu aka Tinie Tempah who received his accolades with good grace and thanked everyone from God to his broker for standing by him through the hard times.

Some things could be relied on. Rihanna was up to her usual tricks as my young son rather wearily observed ‘Daddy, she’s stripping off again’ while she reprised her X-factor appearance. It was left to Mumford & Sons and Arcade Fire to add a musical touch of class and wardrobe eccentricity; 1st prize to Winston, Mumford’s banjo player, for the yellow baseball cap and 2nd to Arcade Fire’s Win Butler for sporting half a hair cut. Everything ran to time, James Corden, presenting the evening, thought he was Ricky Gervais but was more like Kenneth Williams and all were out of the O2 Arena and tucked up in bed before the Newsnight paper round up. Roger Daltrey sought to instil a bit of rock n roll spirit by commenting ‘It's good to see the British music industry still has enough money for a good booze-up’ but his heart wasn’t really in it.

Meanwhile, Spurs had gone to the San Siro stadium in Italy and given a classic European football away fixture performance against A C Milan. So riled were the home side that they resorted to trying to cripple the opposition and how Flamini avoided a red card is, as Toyah Wilcox would say, a mystery. Milan’s captain Gattuso attempted to strangle Spurs’ coach Joe Jordan and then after the match gave Jordan a head-butt for good measure. Now that’s more like it; overpaid, self indulgent and immature young men making fools of themselves in public.

Here's Mumford & Sons' performance from The Brits last night with no miming, half-naked dancers or fake attitude.

fifteen films meme

The rules: Don’t take too long to think about it. Fifteen films you’ve seen that will always stick with you. List the first fifteen films you can recall in no more than fifteen minutes.
Not in order of preference.

1. Babette’s Feast
2. This is Spinal Tap
3. The Long Good Friday
4. Blade Runner
5. Finding Nemo
6. The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring 
7. The Mission
8. Unforgiven
9. Alien 
10. The Usual Suspects
11. The Godfather Part II
12. Diva
13. Manhunter
14. The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe
15. The Last Temptation of Christ

Tagged by Jon who got it from Sam. Consider yourself tagged.

Prime Time (rant alert)

I’m fairly relaxed about programme and film content on T.V. but there are limits. On Saturday night those limits were tested during the prime time family viewing slot on ITV 1 and to a lesser extent earlier on BBC 1.

First up Strictly Come Dancing: BBC1 6.30pm. Over recent years we’ve enjoyed watching Strictly as a family, confident in some genuine light entertainment as well as some heavy stomping entertainment. True, one has to cope with Bruce Forsyth’s decline and the producers keep messing about with the format. However, it’s great fun watching the likes of Anne Widdecombe and John Sargeant staggering round the stage, desperately pursued by professional partners trying to discover some semblance of rhythm or poise. Then there’s the pleasure in seeing someone emerge who discloses genuine hidden talent. This year has been no exception and we are looking forward to the final with, as Dr. Frank-N-Furter would say, anticipation.

Yet, I’m becoming uneasy with certain aspects of Strictly and I don’t just mean the sexism and ageism that led to the dumping of Arlene Phillips as a judge. There is a slight desperation about the way some of the male celebrities are encouraged to reveal their muscular spray tanned torsos before you can say the word Fleckerl. Certain female professional dancers appear to be in a competition to see who can wear the least without suffering a ‘wardrobe malfunction’. Then there are the dance moves that go beyond the subtly suggestive to the down and dirty. That’s fine in a film like Dirty Dancing (I think it was shown later in the evening) where it does what it says on the tin, but I’m not so keen on watching Matt Baker making sexual grinding motions towards his dance partner as she lies splayed on the dance floor at 7pm. Interestingly, the judges criticised Matt and Aliona for this particular contribution to their choreography, suggesting it was rather gratuitous.

Then it was over the channel for The X Factor: ITV1 7.30pm. This show is hard to watch and even harder to listen to at the best of times. It’s made more bearable by following the Twitter stream and full marks to a certain bishop from Liverpool who left the Twitterati in no doubt about his views on the qualities of the finalists. The kids enjoy X Factor and I’d rather watch it with them and discuss the merits of the latest victims of Simon Cowell’s bid for pop world domination, than abandon them to his machinations. What I hadn’t anticipated was just how far Cowell and chums were prepared to push the boundaries when it came to the performances of the guest singers.

Take That were O.K., though I nearly had a coronary when my wife declared that she wished she had tickets for their latest tour. Rumour has it Cowell stopped them singing a number called Kidz accompanied by dancers dressed as riot police. A spokesman for the band is quoted as saying: ‘It was decided after (the) afternoon's rehearsals that the timing and content of the performance was not appropriate so soon after the violence that erupted at protests in London’. Probably a wise move.

Rihanna and Christina Aguilera were a different story. I really don’t understand how anyone can say that this was suitable prime time viewing for the family. I can do without my young son being exposed to the joys of lap dancing clubs and burlesque shows at 8.30pm on a Saturday evening. I can do without my young daughter being encouraged to think that the only way for a female singer to get on in the music industry is to take off her clothes and bump and grind her way across the stage pressed between the bodies of other scantily clad women. And don’t give me the argument that Ms Aguilera was promoting a film; if she’d provided the soundtrack for the Exorcist I wouldn’t expect to see her covered in sores, strapped to a bed, head spinning and spewing all over the stage. All that was missing were the interminable adverts promoting Babestation and dodgy phone chat lines.

If broadcasters are going to schedule and promote these shows as prime time family viewing then they need to exercise some judgement and restraint when it comes to content. Both these shows were heavily trailed in the preceding days, attracted massive publicity and were likely to draw huge audiences given that one was a semi-final and the other the final. I don’t care if this is how these artists perform on tour, or if this is a taste of what their videos are like, I don’t expect it to be shoved in my children’s faces on early Saturday evening television.

Saturday evening was a good reminder that as a parent I shouldn’t delegate responsibility for my children’s television viewing and I can’t trust programme producers to observe mainstream broadcasting standards. It’s no surprise that the X Factor has attracted over 5000 complaints making it the most complained about show in ITV history.

I left blogging about this for a couple of days in order to avoid a rant. Sorry, I failed.

cyber bullies

No, not the latest episode of Dr Who but an increasing problem for young people. The National Centre for Social Research has just published a summary of a major study into the bullying of secondary school pupils between the age of 14-16. The full report will be available in January 2010 but the headline findings are:

• Bullying decreased with age: The prevalence of reported bullying decreased over the three years of the study. 47% of young people reported being bullied at age 14, but this had reduced to 29% by age 16.
• Name calling/cyberbullying was most common: The most common type of bullying was name calling/cyberbullying, followed by being threatened with violence, being socially excluded and being subjected to actual violence. The least common type of bullying was being forced to hand over money or possessions, which was much less common than all the other types of bullying.
• Vulnerable pupils and girls were more likely to be bullied: The main risk factors for being bullied at ages 14-16 were having a special educational need, having a caring responsibility, having a disability or having spent a period of time in social services care. Girls were also more likely to be bullied at ages 14 and 15, but not at age 16.
• Parental awareness of bullying helped to reduce it: Young people whose parents had also reported that they were bullied at the age of 14 were almost twice as likely to stop being bullied by age 16 compared to those whose parents did not know they were being bullied. The same was also true for young people whose parents were aware they were being bullied at age 15.
• Victims of bullying had worse educational outcomes: Young people who had been bullied at the ages of 14 or 15 had an average GCSE score two grades lower than those who had not been bullied. They were also more likely to be Not in Employment, Education or Training (NEET) than those who had not been bullied, and less likely to still be in full-time education.

Why should we be surprised at the amount and nature of bullying amongst the young when bullying has become so prevalent in wider society? We have bullying as entertainment in reality T.V. programmes like Xfactor, where contestants are ritually humiliated, most notably during the early audition stages, for the enjoyment of the wider public. Even on Strictly Come Dancing there is a spitefulness to some of the judges’ comments that goes beyond the critical to what seems intended to wound. Sir Alan Sugar made his reputation on The Apprentice for what at times could only be described as the denigration of his potential employees and he often rewarded the most Machiavellian contestants while dismissing others as weak. I should of course refer to him as Lord Alan Sugar as he was recently ennobled and made the government’s Enterprise Tsar, presumably because of the charm he exhibits in telling people ‘you’re fired’.

Bullying seems to have become a significant feature of our political discourse; when Ed Balls recently appointed the new Children’s Commissioner Maggie Atkinson despite significant opposition, Barry Sheerman who chairs the Children’s Select Committee commented: ‘Most of us know that Ed Balls is a bit of a bully and he likes his own way’. A great epithet for the Secretary of State for Children, Schools and Families, though it should be noted that Sheerman has his own agenda. The Sun’s recent hounding of Gordon Brown over his letter of condolence to Jacqui Janes is seen by many to be little more than the petty bullying of a man suffering from poor eyesight. The pathetic school ground baiting and name calling across the House of Commons’ chamber during Prime Minister’s Questions suggests a deeper culture of bullying.

Unfortunately the church’s record on bullying has also left a lot to be desired. I have close friends who were driven out of the church where they worshipped by a new incumbent who bullied anyone who refused to go along with his agenda. However, I also know there are clergy colleagues who feel their ministries were made untenable because of the bullying antics of key figures in the congregation and community. Anne Lee writing in the Church Times in 2007 identified some of the damage caused to the ministry and mission of the church by bullying: ‘An organisation that allows bullying behaviour to continue unchecked is compromised in proclaiming good news. Whenever a church or church organisation refuses to answer questions, punishes those who express concerns, abuses confidentiality, covers up, coerces, threatens, or deceives, it is directly undermining gospel values.’

Unless we name bullying for what it is and refuse to tolerate it in the name of effective business practice, the rough and tumble of political culture, entertainment or, in the case of the church, ministerial leadership styles then we cannot expect to address bullying amongst young people effectively. Why should our children take bullying seriously if we will not?

son of rambow

In the midst of all the cynicism swirling around it was refreshing to spend a couple of hours watching a highly amusing story about the developing friendship of two misfits. Son of Rambow was a birthday present I hadn’t got round to watching but it was well worth the wait.

Will is a young boy separated from the surrounding culture by his family’s commitment to the Plymouth Brethren. Whenever his school class watches a T.V. programme Will has to leave the room and he has no experience of popular entertainment. Lee, the school trouble maker, starts out seeking to manipulate Will into helping him make a film and they end up forming a close friendship.

Son of Rambow revolves around the making of a sequel to the 80s adventure Rambo: First Blood. Lee wants to enter his masterpiece for a Screen Test competition and after showing Will a pirate copy of Rambo, convinces him to act as his central character and stunt man. There are some wonderful moments including Eric Sykes as an old man in a home, dressed up as Rambo and filmed while completely oblivious to what is going on. My wife’s favourite scenes feature a French exchange student, Didier Revol, who exudes a cool sophistication and is hero worshipped by many of the young boys at school. Didier, weighed down by existential boredom, finds out about the film project and insists on joining in and using his followers as the production crew.

The soundtrack of 1980s hits reminds me just how bad so much of the music from that period was. Themes explored include the nature of friendship and the relationship between religion and culture. The film is heart-warming, nostalgic and fun; a good antidote to the jaundiced world view offered by so much entertainment around at the moment.

that's why I love football - euro 08 (1)

Just about got over the frustration of there being no home nations sides in Euro 08. But perhaps it's for the best because judging by some of the football on display I think we could have been severely embarrassed. Yesterday was one of the most entertaining days of international football I can remember.

First up Romania v Italy (1-1): Open game with end to end action, the World Cup champions nearly humiliated and then a fantastic penalty save denying Romania an historic win. Fair result given that Italy had a perfectly good goal ruled offside.

Then with The Guardian's Barry Glendenning having declared Romania Italy the match of the tournament along comes Holland v France (4-1). Holland had already put Italy to the sword (3-0) and topped that performance by destroying France with some brilliant adventurous attacking football not seen since the total football of the Dutch in the 70s and 80s. Holland often flatter to deceive but not last night. 1-0 up at half time their manager van Basten put on another attacker and they sliced the French apart. It was a majestic, magnificent display and reminded me of the Euro '96 encounter between England and Holland (4-1).

That is why I love football!
(couldn't resist the photo of Henry who made my life a misery when playing for Arsenal)