FOAM ALONE

The Hard Truth about Soft Play*

 *well, not really. It’s a strapline as sensational as it is disingenuous.

Very recently, I took my son to the soft play centre for an exhausting but rewarding bout of father-son sodding about. A crucial parental duty, it involves trying to tire out someone at least a tenth of my age before quickly realising that actually, three year olds are essentially fully-clothed, fleshy Duracells, whilst thirty-something adults need only stay up a bit late just one evening to render an entire fortnight a complete bleary-eyed write-off.

Spot the window: not a common game at soft play

Weirdly, I’ve never been to a soft play centre that has a natural light source. Much like their adult counterparts, casinos, they’re a window-free reality block-out, constructing their own Day-Glo artifice in place of an unpredictable, grim and sometimes cruel outside world. Soft play is always bright and colourful – eyeball-strainingly so.

Funderzone in Barnstaple. Their spelling, not mine.

There is etiquette in soft play world. Shoes off, naturally. Socks on, sensibly. Try never to engage with another parent’s child, no matter how distressed or eager it seems to be. I committed that sin just the other day. A pair of excitable brothers decided that my son and I would play the role of monsters and they, the heroes, would chase us through the centre’s various obstacles until satisfactorily vanquished. We played along gamely for all of a minute until:

a)      my son became genuinely frightened and

b)      the elder of the two children launched himself onto my leg right in front of his bewildered father.

Awkwardly trying to brush the child off with the least casual chuckle I’ve ever mustered made no difference, so had to apologetically pull the boy’s remarkably tight grip from my thigh with a certain degree of force.

Swearing at soft play is a big no-no, obviously. Hey, I don’t put on Goodfellas during the day, because I don’t want said film’s colourful language echoing around my kids’ cochleas. If they picked it up at a children’s activity centre, I’d be muthafuckin’ livid.

"Try the fucking monkey bars you chimp-ass motherfucker"

As it happens, swearing is just the tip of the language iceberg – there’s potentially loads of things you wouldn’t want to hear at soft play:

“Can’t believe I failed my CRB check again…”

“Ticket for one adult spectator please.”

“Rose! Have you shit in the ball pool?”

"Dad! I've broken my leg!"
"Hang on, I'm just updating Facebook to say what a great parent I am"

This takes us to the parents, of course, without whom none of the children would be there, quite literally. They’re a curious bunch, the Mums and Dads of soft play. The Dads seem either forlorn or furious, often during the same sentence. Mums tend to assimilate into small groups: whether they arrive like this or just naturally form these daytime Diasporas, I’m not entirely sure. Each Mum takes it in impatient turn to bark at each another facts of minimal interest concerning their child’s development progress before pretending to listen to their companion’s similar nugget of nothing.

A lot of parents don’t even bother to hide their indifference, taking rare opportunity to bury their head in the distracting glow of a smartphone without guilt, as their offspring hurl themselves with glee through one hundred square foot of foam-padded scaffolding. I should probably add here that I’m not judging anyone. It’s really not my place to do so and besides, it’s all some can do for a moment’s relative peace. And anyway, what else am I doing whilst this is taking place, except mentally concocting notes to write this? You sanctimonious shitsack, Miles.

Soft play can be stomach-churningly sweaty. Because soft play is bloody knackering, especially for a fully grown man who is categorically not dressed for a workout (there’s a reason Usain Bolt doesn't break world records whilst rocking a pair of Levis you know). Negotiating the cramped play frames, scramble nets, and tight plastic crawl tubes can be so physically demanding, I find myself heading off regularly to the giant air cannons for a quick cool down gust (that in no way looks weird. Not one bit).

Cargo netting: cheesewire for feet

The rope bridge walkways are the worst. Children, who are relatively light, can withstand easily the press of foot on tangled chord. Conversely, an adult’s full body weight bearing down on a mesh of thick rope feels like you’re being forced through a giant bloody sieve. I then spend the rest of the day treading everywhere gingerly as if the world’s floor space has been strewn with scattered Lego bricks and shattered glass shards.

There is nothing else quite like soft play: for an activity that forces frequent encroachment on your personal space, it's startlingly impersonal. The climbing frame gets a sunroof, steel bars are cushioned with spongy foam, and freedom of movement meets rules of engagement.

I like soft play; it’s reassuringly peculiar and refreshingly pretension-free. Paying to leave the murk and rain of mid-December to run around in a live action cartoon seems a pretty good deal, and am happy to indulge the children for as long as they find it worthwhile.

Even if you do run the occasional risk of tumbling into a puddle of toddler piss.

Wee!

BlogalongaBoldly #3: Star Trek III: The Search for Spock

BlogalongaBoldly #2 Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan

Budget Not Included: An Interview with "The Battery" director and star Jeremy Gardner

Earlier this year, I had the task of compiling a piece on low budget zombie films for The SFX A-Z of Zombies. Among the gems featured - and some of the turds I neglected to feature - was standout slacker zom-com-drama The Battery. Sun-kissed, laconic and a joy from start to finish, it's genuinely one of my viewing highlights of the year. Soon as I could, I got in touch with writer, director and mightily-bearded lead, Jeremy Gardner for a few searching questions. Gracious with his time and considered in his responses, I reproduce his answers here in full, for the first time.

Gardner: doing that hand thing what directors do.

Warning: contains mild plot spoilers.

The movie – at least to me – seems fairly entrenched in Americana (baseball, rootsy rock music, the cattle and countryside etc). Was all that a conscious decision on your part?

Baseball = US Rounders?

It wasn't conscious that it all be of an "Americana" piece, I think that just happens to be a bigger part of my own personality than maybe I was even aware of.  I was raised in a very Southern part of Florida. Not south Florida, but "Southern" Florida. Lots of grits and manners and cattle and country music and fishing, my father watched classic westerns almost exclusively.

So even though I've moved away from that, and have a far more eclectic cultural taste, those sensibilities are sort of ingrained in me I think. I love baseball, always have. Get a few pints in me and I'll argue that it is the greatest game human beings have ever devised. Baseball and chess. I know a UK audience might be inclined to groan at that, but there is a patience and a constant tension and release to the pace of baseball that I think also informed the structure of the film.

"Where's Jason?" "Wrong film, dickhead"

I’ve read a lot of reviews that see this as a buddy drama first, and a horror film second. How do you feel about that assessment?

It is certainly a fair assessment. I love horror movies. It is a genre that I hope to always work in, but it's also a very malleable genre in that a lot of my favorite horror films are also dramas, or comedies, or sci-fi or adventure. The horror element of our film is for the most part on the fringe of what is essentially a character study, so I can understand it being billed as a drama first. Strangely though, there are a lot of places that have billed it as a comedy, which I do think is misleading.

One of the things I am most proud of with the film is how funny it is, but the humor is an organic offshoot of just trying to create honest performances. I wouldn't want anyone to throw down their money expecting a laugh-riot like Shaun of the Dead. Although I guess even calling it a zombie film could be misleading considering how often they are relegated to the background.

The zombies are often a background, almost unseen threat: was this budgetary limitation, or was it always the plan?

"Fuck Nicotinell, I'm going hardcore"

It was always my idea to make a character study first and a zombie film second. I could have wrapped the story of these two men around the bones of any number of catastrophes: plague, war, asteroid; I chose zombies because I have always loved  them as a convention, but more often than not I'm disappointed with the execution of zombie movies. That said, it probably would have been a lot easier to suggest a super-flu wiped everyone out than make it something that requires a lot of makeup effects and extras.

So the answer to your question is: A bit of both, the movie was always going to focus on the characters, but with more money and makeup and extras we would probably have had more zombies. And in fact we cut at least four featured zombies from the finished film mostly for execution reasons.  In a way the zombies for us ended up being like Bruce the shark in JAWS never working; we tried to have more of zombies, we shot more of them, but for one reason or another those scenes didn't work and now we are getting maybe a bit more credit than we deserve for keeping them in the background.

Having said that, however, that’s an impressively sizeable crowd of zombies around the car – how did you convince people to become part of your undead hoard?

I'm so glad you that crowd impresses you, because honestly, it depresses me. Not the actors, not the extras, they were all incredible and patient and stayed out on a mountain road all day in the heat and into the night without complaining. But the fact that we shot in such a rural area meant we were really only able to wrangle about thirty extras. Which is fine and can be made to feel substantial from inside a car when they are crowded around the windows, but there was a beautiful shot that I ended up cutting, that revealed how small that horde actually was. 

"Look, do you want your fucking windows washed or what?"

Originally I wanted to shove the audience into this tin can car for forty minutes, and then suddenly, finally, cut to this wide shot from the field, of a mass of zombies swallowing up this tiny car. And we shot it. And it was lovely. And it would have been such a breath of fresh air. But it was so completely underwhelming. The amount of extras we had simply could not be made to look intimidating when you saw them from a distance. The whole crew and I argued extensively over that shot, and it was one of the only times I exercised my right to say "I hear you, but I am putting my foot down on this." I would rather watch a movie and be mad that I didn't get to see something I was hoping to see, than see it and think... "That's it?"  So we had to get creative about the ways we cut around it and I think it works much better the way it is now.

With such a familiar formula as the zombie genre, it must have been very difficult to do something new. But boy, did you ever manage it! I’m talking about Mickey’s wonderfully perverse appreciation of the female zombie. What inspired you to put that scene in?

Zombie girl. Would you?

It would be, I think, I a disservice to your story to write something simply to shock the audience. That scene came straight from the ether and through my head and out the pen and onto paper and was completely organic to the level of desperation and loneliness I wanted the character of Mickey to have sunk to. That said, once it was written, I really believed that if the actors could pull it off then it really would be something new and shocking and funny and perverse; and my God those two absolutely killed that scene.

It was one of the few scenes that I wasn't in and it was such a pleasure to just stand off screen and watch them absolutely attack those performances. It was such an awkward thing to do, and it took a lot of faith on their parts to trust that we were going to shoot it properly and cut it right and not let it wind up a joke for the wrong reasons. I was so thrilled they pulled it off. And Adam, he literally looked like he might have actually pulled "it" off.

Without the might of a studio publicity machine, how has it been promoting The Battery? Hard?

It has been difficult. Very difficult. It is a lot of tweeting and retweeting and begging respected sites to cover your film and then wading into the terrifying comment sections and being humble and approachable and engaged. That is something we have tried to cultivate from the beginning, this idea that we can be contacted and asked questions and be a part of the conversation. We aren't reclusive shadow people and we didn't make a perfect film, so write us, tweet at us, call us even---413-24-VOLVO, That's a real phone number!--- and tell us what you liked or didn't like or ask us how we did something. That's the only way we are going to grow an audience who is interested not just in this film, but in what we do next. And I think it is probably one of the most important things you can do if you don't have Hollywood muscle pushing you out into every corner of the market, just be available. Luckily we have also had some really incredible champions at some amazing sites and magazines who have helped get us awareness as well.

"Like my film or else muthafucka!"

OK, hypothetical time – a studio offers you the chance to either re-film your movie with blockbuster-style megabucks, or fund a sequel with a modest, but reasonable budget. Which do you do, and why?

Sequel. We joke all the time about remaking the movie every time there is a new camera update or an actor's schedule opens up, but we've really come to understand that there is something endearing about the rough edges of the movie. This scene is dark because night fell, and the sound in this scene sucks because the rain killed the microphone and we had to record in-camera. We have thought about sinking money into some of these things and trying to fix them, but the film is out there now. It isn't ours anymore. And audiences have embraced it so passionately, I believe in a lot of ways, because it feels like something that was made, by the skin of teeth, and just barely. It's like a raft made of bundled flotsam and jetsam that actually makes it across a river: it has problems, but it works.

Keep strollin' dude.

So, to that end, I have an idea for a sequel, and it would also work as a stand-alone movie. It would be called, obviously, The Orchard. I have always envisioned it as the Desperado to El Mariachi. Same character, same quirk of filmmaker personality, but bigger and more slick.

Speaking of a sequel, could that be a possibility?

It is an idea we are entertaining, but it would be silly to jump into a sequel without any demand for it. I am working on a couple different scripts now, and the other guys in the group have some ideas too. So the sequel will only happen if it is demanded by a torch-wielding mob, or someone commissions it. 

How much of a part has the ease of digital distribution played in your decision to get this movie made?

It was definitely a part of the original pitch. But no movie gets made now without considering the digital outlets. The two most important factors that got the movie made, at least on the business side, were Genre and Budget. Horror sells without name actors, and we would have had to fuck the thing up beyond recognition not to at least make our money back on a six thousand dollar budget.

Thank you Jeremy!

The Battery is distributed States-side on iTunes, PSN, Amazon Prime and XBox Live. It's gradually making its way around select European horror festivals before the producers either get digital distribution sorted or a DVD/Blu-Ray. Also, I neglected to mention the soundtrack, which is kick-ass. 

So, soon as you legally can, get this film in your eyes and earpipes.

All images copyright The Battery Movie / Joe DeAngelis. Official poster designed by Greg Bunbury.

A truncated version of this interview was originally published in The SFX A-Z of Zombies, edited by Will Salmon. He's a really great pop culture scribble chap who's dead nice too. Just thought you should know.

BlogalongaBoldly #1 Star Trek: The Motion Picture

So, I'm doing this now.

Smash all the Clocks

The grieving period had finished. Stop your snivelling and get back to work. Grief’s easy, really: couple of weeks to sweat out the shock of loss, before you move on politely with your life. That duration where everyone treads gingerly around you, offering you hugs or tea or tear-absorbent shoulders, mindful of your fragility – that’s almost like a holiday. Some time off, and it ends with a bit of a knees-up.

Then reality sets in. Oh, they really are gone. Forever. The world keeps turning, the season changes, and everything’s the same as it was before, only completely different. This is the hard bit.

A quick check of your own lifespan. Blimey, that’s a probable lot of life left remaining without that person. A lot of lost memories. A lot of catching up with yourself, as you idly make plans with them in mind, until the actuality returns with a swift gut-punch.

A lot of coping.

This isn’t grieving. It’s pining.

What to do? Wallow in loss, nostalgia, and sorrow? Drown yourself in attention-diverting pop culture ephemera and nonsense? Start time-managing bereavement in easily-digestible chunks on a daily basis? Or just pretend it’s not happening, and bury your subconscious under a facade of grinning and pretence, with eyes so wide you can sometimes hear them crack?

I don’t know. But if you do find out, you’ll let me know, yeah?

Saturday Night at the Moovies: Milk in Film

Milk: cow’s gift to humanity. As well as their delicious flesh, of course. Plus their leather, come to think of it. Not to mention those giant horns Texan oil barons attach to the hoods of their cars. Blimey, those grazing, cud-chewing chumps have served us humans pretty well over the centuries. I could rip a cow to pieces just thinking about it.

So, sit back, pour yourself a tall glass of semi-skimmed (or gold top if you’ve basically let yourself go), and read on, as I take you through this not-at-all arbitrary rundown of milk in film.

23. Psycho (1960)

Congenial host Norman Bates, always offering his motel guests a giant pitcher of milk and a plate of sandwiches. If only he hadn’t followed it up with slicing them to ribbons in the shower whilst wearing the dress of his dead mother he’d probably be remembered a little more fondly.

22. Ghost World (2001)

Spiteful, self-absorbed bitches mock Steve Buscemi’s downtrodden Seymour for buying a “giant glass of milk”, whereas it’s actually a vanilla milkshake. Ha! In your face spiteful bitches!

21. Grease (1978)

The cast swallow lots of milkshakes. We swallow the fact that they’re thirty-somethings playing at being teenagers.

20. Bridge to Terabithia (2007)

Spilt milk! Don’t cry about it though. Cry about all the much sadder stuff that comes later.

19. Inglourious Basterds (2009)

Here’s Colonel Hans Landa. As well as hunting Jewish people, he likes to smoke a pipe and drink a glass of milk. My Uncle Quentin is also a milk-drinking pipe-smoker, but is categorically not a Nazi. He does, however, hold some pretty strong views on women in the workplace. Just kidding Quentin! I hope.

18. Honey, I Shrunk the Kids (1989)

The person-to-milk ratio of this film is off the bloody scale really, considering this shrunken bastard nearly drowns in the stuff. He’s then nearly eaten by his Dad, Rick Moranis. Terrible really. I mean, imagine Rick Moranis as your Father.

17. The 400 Blows (1959)     

The French, eh? Always doing something symptomatic of the stereotypical values assigned to their country by racists, eh? Anyway, this child has stolen a bottle of milk, the petit merde.

16. Trainspotting (1996)

Even smackheads occasionally take time out from injecting “shit” into their veins to enjoy a sugary strawberry-milk concoction. They then return to heroin. They’re addicts, see?

15. There Will Be Blood (2007)

Daniel Day-Lewis’ booze-soaked Plainview bellows proprietary claims concerning a non-existent milkshake at the quivering Eli. Just think: if he truly did love milkshakes more than alcohol, he probably wouldn’t be acting this crazy in the first place.

14 Pulp Fiction (1994)

Mia's five dollar shake elicits the spittle-lipped attention of John Travolta's rubber mouth. Bet he did give her cooties.

13. Back to the Future (1985)

George McFly: his milkshake brings all the courage to the bar.

12. The Big Lebowski (1998)

The Dude might hate the fuckin' Eagles man, but he sure loves milk-derived alcohol beverages, as in his ubiquitous White Russian. He also loves bowling, cannabis, and Donny.

11. Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy (2004)

News anchor Ron Burgundy knocks back a carton of full fat, only to declare it, “a bad choice!” No it wasn’t Ron; it was bloody lovely and you know it.

10. Terminator 2: Judgment Day (1991)

Quite possibly the worst thing that can happen to you whilst you guzzle milk. No respect, those bloody T-1000s.

9. Leon: The Professional (1994)

Our third film in a row with a colon in the title (milk must gravitate naturally towards the colon). This is a film all about a paid assassin who drinks only milk. Some consider this a slur on milk’s good name. I say if it’s implying that milk sharpens the senses, improves your aim, and deadens the soul to cold-blooded murder, then that’s fine by me.

8. A Clockwork Orange (1971)

Is Kubrick’s futuristic masterpiece another cinematic knock at the bovine brew, given its use as “rape fuel” for anti-hero Alex and his band of vicious droogs? No, because the milk they drink is packed to the centilitre with mind-curdling drugs. Normal milk would never arouse sexually deviant urges, probably.

7. Barnyard (2006)

I’ve not seen this, but there is a cow in it. Chances are that milk is also in it then, even if only tangentially.

6. The Calcium Kid (2004)

A much better role model than poxy old Leon here, with puberty’s very own poster boy Orlando Bloom pretending to be a boxer. A boxer whose strength is derived from necking vats of creamy white. This film has a 0% rating on Rotten Tomatoes. But what would they know, eh?

5. John Wayne

“Get off your horse and drink your milk” he said once, apparently, though no one where seems to know from where it originates. Even the internet isn’t much help and I hate Westerns so am not about to check so let’s just say that he definitely said it and move on.

4. Breastmilk: The Movie (2013)

I don’t know the first thing about this, because I am not interested in tit-soup. I sometimes hear the phrase, “breast is best.” Frankly, that’s bollocks: I’m an arse man myself.

3. Kingpin (1996)

Woody Harrelson's Roy Munson was startled to discover that his delicious milky treat wasn't squeezed from a cow’s udder at all: it was spunk wanked from a bull’s cock.

2. The Living Daylights (1987)

Timothy Dalton’s debut and penultimate Bond movie features a murderous milkman by the name of Necros, a geezer what lobs exploding milk bottles, and strangles victims with his hi-tech Walkman headphones. Real milkmen don’t do this, of course. They merely whistle, deliver top quality dairy products, and on occasion, shag your missus.

1. Milk (2008)

A film starring the only twice Academy Award winner whose head is the shape of an inverted Toblerone chunk. Disappointingly, Milk isn’t a rattling narrative about the nutritious delights of liquid lactose at all: it’s about a man who was gay for a bit. Oh, pull the udder* one Hollywood! Let’s hope that one day, Tinsel Town sees sense and the wonderful drink of milk is given the proper cinema adaption we all deserve. Especially me.

BYE

*other

Saturday Night at the Whovies: Time Lords Vs. Tinsel Town

As the very best popular culture has to offer, it’s no surprise that Doctor Who often bears eerie or even intentional similarity to its silver-screened sibling…

The Curse of Frankenstein (1957) Vs. The Brain of Morbius (1976)

Hammer

Horror

FILM

Over-zealous scientist crackpot stitches together a pathetic mockery of humanity using illegally-obtained body parts and the accidentally damaged brain of a genius. Hilarity ensues. No, hang on, terrible events ensue.

TV

Dumbo assistant stitches together a pathetic mockery of life using dubiously-obtained body parts, the accidentally damaged brain of a criminal genius, and a bloody great goldfish bowl. Bad shit goes down.

VERDICT

Yes, we’ve gone for Hammer’s inaugural horror effort rather than James Whale’s peerless 1931 classic; the lush Eastmancolor and liberal splashes of Crayola gore compare more favourably with Who’s lurid claret-spilling than it does Universal’s expressionistic monochrome. So - The Doctor and Sarah-Jane at the height of their friendship, romping through blood-soaked carnage? Or, a mayhem-imbued, delicious melodrama with a lanky, rampaging pasty-faced fiend? Peter Cushing or Philip Madoc? Tom B or Christopher Lee? We’re going to wuss out and call this one a draw.

Sunshine (2007) Vs. 42 (2007)

"Brr, I'm freezing"

"He's behind you!" etc

FILM

Spaceship crew on a mission to give the sun a kick up the arse. Once in close proximity to the flaming orb, however, they get a bit bonkers and burny.

TV

Spaceship crew on a mission to mine the crap out of a sun. Once in close proximity to the flaming orb, however, they get a bit bonkers and burny.

VERDICT

42’s breakneck speed and thumping tone doesn’t compare easily to Sunshine’s slow-burner, the latter opting for a more incremental build in tension than Who’s wham-bam-you’re-fried-spam approach to condensed story-telling. As a snack-sized thrill ride, 42 is never unwelcome. Ultimately though, whilst it’s got great direction, it’s inoffensive, generic Doctor Who. Sunshine, on the other hand, is captivating, character-driven cinema, with Danny Boyle direction and Cillian Murphy. That’s a big win for film.

Sliding Doors (1998) Vs. Turn Left (2008)

"Does your head come in a box?"
"Pardon?"

"Rose, I think I've got a shit special effect on my back"

FILM

Gwyneth Paltrow catches a train, gets home to find a floozy on the wrong end of her boyfriend’s dick, falls in love with John Hannah and dies. In the alternative timeline, that more or less still happens, but without the death and a different haircut. The moral of the story seems to be: don’t be too hasty to get your train - you’ll end up at the same destination regardless. Sort of.

TV

The concurrent parallel timeline story in which Donna Noble turns right, doesn’t meet the Doctor (who promptly dies), plunges the earth into chaos, and then dies herself anyway, forcing her original self to turn left and correct the timeline. The moral of the story seems to be: it doesn’t matter which way you turn - you’ll end up at the same destination regardless. Sort of.

VERDICT

Do you want Catherine Tate and Billie Piper emoting heady exchanges over the fate of the universe in an episode with allusions to Nazi-occupied Germany? Or would you rather soapy-faced Paltrow and Hannah cooing smug and nauseating Monty Python references to one another? Not to mention the fact that it’s directed by Peter “Joey ‘Greetings’ Boswell” Hewitt. No contest then, Who smashes its sliding doors right bloody in.

The Dalek Invasion of Earth (1964) Vs. Daleks – Invasion Earth: 2150 A.D. (1966)

"Fuck you monochrome!"

"Well Susan, they might have colour but at least you've got pubes, eh?"

TV

Hartnell and his homies rock up to post-apocalyptic earth (well, the Home Counties) to find it strewn with Skaro’s schemiest. The crew open up a polite but firm can of Whup-Ass on the deadly dustbins, before dumping Susan for a quick tête-à-tedium with local dullard David.

FILM

Peter Cushing’s human “Dr. Who” TARDIS-rockets his niece and granddaughter to London’s grim future as a Dalek-controlled wasteland. Thwarting their nefarious plans by organising a rebellion against the alien oppressors, he also takes some time out to casually stroll past some conveniently-placed Sugar Puffs posters. Bernard Cribbins tags along for loveable, though often tiresome, hi-jinx.

VERDICT

Of course, the Cushing movies are unique in being literal film adaptations of existing television adventures. With a glorious kaleidoscope of bauble-tinted Daleks, all the rattling action crammed into a slender running time a third the length of the original, and Bernard brilliant Cribbins, the big screen version is an improvement on its televisual predecessor in just about every single aspect.

Titanic (1997) Vs. Voyage of the Damned (2007)

"I've like, totally seen your tits"

Gaudy shit 

FILM

Aesthetically-pleasing couple pursue class-divided relationship on voyage aboard doomed ship Titanic. As the liner goes down, tragedy befalls both passengers and pair whilst the audience cry enough water to sink an entire fleet of the non-floating fuckers.

TV

Aesthetically-pleasing alien couple pursue species-divided friendship on voyage aboard doomed starship Titanic. As the liner goes down, tragedy befalls both passengers and pair whilst the audience immediately turns to Gallifrey Base to post hyperbole-imbued bitter rants, or intolerable squees of inanity.

VERDICT

Is Titanic a needlessly saccharine yawn of over-wrought sentimentality, or a master craftsman weaving an emotionally-manipulative love story from human tragedy? The truth lies somewhere in the middle. Voyage of the Damned, meanwhile, is a patchwork quilt of disaster movies, broad ‘n’ bonkers science-fantasy concepts, and colourful RTD character moments. Neither product shows their respective artists at their best, but given its bearable length, exuberance, and merciful lack of Celine Dion, we’ll take a slice of below-par, shouty Who over “Oiceberg! Roight ahead!” any day.

The Mummy (1959) Vs. Pyramids of Mars (1975)

"No, seriously, that really hurts. Stop it"

"FUCKING COME ON THEN YOU CAAANTS!"

FILM

English archaeologists ill-advisedly excavate tomb of mummified Egyptian god Karnak. Worshipper of said bandaged badass follows him to England to raise his crusty cadaver in order to wreak terrible revenge.

TV

English archaeologist ill-advisedly excavates ancient Egyptian artefacts. Namin, Egyptian worshipper of jackal-faced Orisan, Sutekh, uses robot Mummies to enable his master escape from permanent incarceration. Well, actually, the reanimated corpse of the English archaeologist does a lot of that too. Plus, the Doctor’s in it – did we mention that? Oh, you should just watch it – it really is very good.

VERDICT

Given that Pyramids of Mars has been scientifically tested by Professor Stephen Hawkings (probably) as being improbably brilliant, and all Mummy movies are essentially a bit samey and dull, forgive us if we side with the fella with the curly hair and blue box on this occasion. Plus, Mr Bronson’s in it. So there. Class dismissed.