5 Reasons Why You Should Be Really Fucking Psyched About The Avengers Film: Video Blog

And now for something completely different.

Just for a change (and because even typing is apparently too much effort now), I've decided to try something new and do a video blog. Possibly this is because I've been watching too much Nostalgia Critic and fallen into the dangerous trap of going "Pshaw! How hard can it be?", possibly because I am simply a dangerous egomaniac with far too many opinions. Who can say?

Either way, I apologise for the crappy picture quality, crappy sound quality and crappy editing. It's my first day.

Enjoy.

Telly Wrangling: Home Brew (Spooks, Merlin, Fresh Meat)

Greetings, gentle readers, and welcome to what I hope will be a regular instalment in the (let's admit, patchy) adventures of this blog. Amongst my many, many areas of expertise, I think we can all agree that mindless over-analytical witterings about T.V. is a particular strong point. Here I review a selection of the week's British telly, with some thoughts on the broadcast outings of our friends across the pond still to come.

Are you sitting comfortably? Then I'll begin.

Spooks, Series 10 Episode 3 (BBC, Saturday 1st October)

Imagine being told "have sex with this woman or everyone will die". Yeah, it's a hard life being in the secret service, eh? After a rather scrambled start to it'd final season, Spooks is back on form with a cracking episode that sees Handsome Dimitri finally step into the limelight. Actor Max Brown must be the only person not mourning the absence of Richard Armitage from our screens as it means he very nearly gets enough character development to stop me mentally referring to him as 'Handsome Dimitri'. Almost, but not quite. He is very handsome. This week sees him going undercover to seduce the sister of Anarchist Johnny and stop a potential dirty bomb threat aimed at a thinly veiled Rupert Murdoch caricature (current affairs, y'see?). The sister - let us call her Average-Looking Natalie - lights up as she spots her blind date for the evening, 'Ryan' the 'estate agent', and doesn't do much else except be awkwardly working class. The following 50 minutes were packed full of exactly the kind of low-tech thrills, spills and double crosses that prove Spooks still knows how to produce a pleasing, intelligent episode when it wants to.

Elsewhere, after the untimely demise of Poor Tariq (only to be reincarnated as a twattish musician on Channel 4's Fresh Meat - see below), Callum is finally proving his worth by investigating the death of the bromance that never was. Lara Pulver continues to put in a performance that can only be described as a "Poor Man's Ros", leading me to dub her character Grim Erin. Given that Pulver is also due to appear in Series 2 of the excellent Sherlock in the contentious role of Irene Adler, I hope she learns to emote a little by the end of the series. Having her plot-point - sorry, daughter - put in mortal danger by the end of the run should do it, as will surely happen.

Harry and Ruth continue to be the real stars of the show, sharing pained looks across the briefing table. But with Harry's film-noir-esque ex-lover and belligerent son (a kind of Russian spy version of Harry Enfield's Kevin) muddying the waters, it seems Ruth is in danger of being driven into the arms of the oily Home Secretary, both professionally and perhaps otherwise. Don't do it, Ruth. Harry may have less hair but he's the better man by far. Though for a show that slaughters its characters with such apparent glee, can there really be any hope of a happy ending for these two? Godspeed, you middle-aged Romeo and Juliet, godspeed.

Merlin, Series 4 Episodes 1 & 2: The Darkest Hour, Parts 1 and 2

Also making a welcome return to our screens is the BBC's 'not Doctor Who' show, Merlin. despite the fourth series' Dark and Edgy makeover (and increased budget, perhaps?) the silliness and heart of the show are still intact. We've been served up two surprisingly tight, well-written episodes with genuinely scary villains, the Dorocha (blue ghosty dementory thingies that screech unsettlingly), controlled by Bridget Jones' mum.

Bradley James continues to play Arthur with just the right hint of self-awareness, as is only right for a character who has failed to notice for four years that his BFF's eyes go strangely glowy every time his life is miraculously saved yet again. Plus, of course, those obligatory Arthur shirtless scenes, along with a rather loving shot of his arse in literally the opening minutes of the first episode. It's in his contract, I swear to god. Colin Morgan is still strong as the titular boy wizard and in the midst of all the angst, there was some of the bromantic bantering we all know and love: "Clotpole," says Arthur. "That's my word," says Merlin. Self-referential, see. Oh boys, you make me so happy.

Gwen (Angel Coulby) took a backseat to the boys' adventures in the first part, which I hope is not a sign of regular things to come, as she is by far the best actor on the show. However, my prayers for less Regulation to Love Interest, more Promotion to Blacksmithing and Dispensing of Wisdom were swiftly answered, with Part 2 providing a glimpse of those Once and Future Queenly powers. Essentially, she's being set up as a kind of people's princess, pseudo-medieval Diana, only with less designer outfits and more practical advice at her fingertips, like "don't remove the only protection that extremely vulnerable people have from screaming blue ghosts". And now apparently she's as much of a threat as Arthur to Morgana and Agravaine having regular smirking parties, so she's also in the firing line for more Scooby-Doo-style villain plots doomed to failure. Excellent, excellent, excellent.

However, the main focus really was on the newly christened Knights of the Round Table or, as I like to think of them, Princely Arthur and his Jukebox Knights, Camelot's No.1 Boyband. Obviously, you've got Arthur as frontman, with Gwaine as the cheeky Irish one, Elian the 'urban' one (one of two black people in Camelot and yes, they're related), Percival the Sweet One and Sir Leon, the long-suffering band manager. And, of course, the shock exit of Lancelot the Soulful Latino One. Dead for Real or Sleeping Lions? I'll be honest, I couldn't quite tell if that was a body they were giving a spuriously Viking-style funeral to (though if I listed every historical or mythological inaccuracy on this show, we'd never see sunrise) or just his sword and what have you - we last saw him striding manfully into a howling void of death in order to save his friends so will the veil spit him back out or has he gone down the Sirius Black route? Only time will tell. It would make sense if he's Dead for Real, given that the thing Lancelot is really famous for in the stories is bumping uglies on the sly with Guinevere and on the show the writers have really painted themselves into a corner with the Arthur/Gwen/Lancelot love triangle. Where we left it, Arthur and Gwen were happily ensconced in cosily forbidden domesticity with him looking angstily and nobly into the distance while she delivers reassuring speeches about what a great guy he is... aaaand that's still where we are. Basically. There's really no room for Lancelot in this scenario, given that Gwen won't even glance in the direction of his ridiculously defined jawline, so he's stuck staring moonily at her and suffering through the self-inflicted torture of keeping safe Princess Arthur. And looking wry every time Merlin does magic, of course. So the show can probably toddle along without him but then again - an Arthur legend with no Lancelot at all? It's like a sky without a rainbow every once in a while. A really good-looking, sexy rainbow.

Elsewhere, not much has changed. Eoin Macken's Gwaine is Irish and thus automatically comic relief, though with Lancelot out of the way, maybe he'll be enjoying some Dimitri-style time in the limelight. Percival and Elian's dialogue seems to be written with the idea that a show built around one bromance really needs another. I demand a spin-off: every week the unlikely pairing rescue more implausibly cute children from certain death while Percival models Camelot Gap's new chain mail range (conveniently short-sleeved to show off those rippling biceps) and Elian delivers cocky one-liners. Gwaine can come too as a kind of tall, handsome (one thing you can say about this show is that it panders to the female fans and those inclined to the gentlemen just as much as it indulges in male gaze, if not more) canary, wandering into the mine shafts of danger with nought but twinkly, Hibernian over-confidence to guard him.

It also seems like we've seen the last of Emilia Fox's sultry Morgause, sadly, as she makes way for new villain Agravaine, played with a double order of ham and cheese by Nathaniel Parker. The great thing about Morgause was that her hollow-eyed crack-addict intensity went some way towards balancing out Morgana's incessant smirking. Unfortunately, Agravaine seems to have a mean smirk of his own, in every sense, and I'm not sure my poor eyes can take much more of these mouth-acrobatics. On the plus side, maybe he'll teach her to do it properly now. Either that or she'll break her face trying.

Merlin. Long may its implausible plots, bewildering lack of character development and shameless fanservice reign.

Fresh Meat, Channel 4

And finally, let's round up with a quick note on Fresh Meat, Channel 4's new university comedy after their last effort Campus, which induced all kinds of confusing reactions amongst which laughter was strangely absent. I have many reasons to dislike Fresh Meat. Well, one. Namely that Channel 4 weren't the only ones to realise there hadn't been a decent uni house comedy since The Young Ones and I started writing one with a friend. And obviously, the BBC were going to be interested in this script by a couple of first time writers about thinly-veiled versions of themselves that was terribly middle-class and obviously there were going to make it and obviously it was going to be really successful and Rebecca Front was going to play my mum and we were going to win BAFTAs and I would use my acceptance speech to lobby for the role of the next companion in Doctor Who and obviously the only thing to stop that happening now is the appearance of Fresh Meat. Obviously

But, like the generous-hearted person I am, I decided to give these poor, misguided amateurs a chance and you know what? It's really good. As in, funny. As in, laugh out loud funny occasionally. Weirdly, for a show written by Sam Bain and Jesse Armstrong, most famous for the (I don't care what anyone says) still excellent Peep Show, it feels much more like an episode of Green Wing moved to a university campus, than Campus, which was actually supposed to be Green Wing moved to a university campus, did. I'm even managing to tolerate the presence of Jack Whitehall, or as I know him, Oh, That Tosser Again. You've got the standard will-they-won't-they couple, played harmlessly by a pretty blonde and the only normal looking one from The Inbetweeners, but that's not really where the interest lies. Apart from Jack Whitehall playing (shocker) a twattish public schoolboy, there's the brunette overachiever desperately trying to reinvent herself as edgy and laid-back (I'm not really at the names-learning stage yet), who in in the unenviable position of playing an extremely unlikable character very well (though her storyline has just got interesting). My favourites, though, are Stoic Howard, the student who never quite managed to move out of the house and standout performance, Vod, even if she is basically Superhans's estranged daughter.

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And that's it for the first week of British telly-wrangling. Depending on how crushingly egotistical I'm feeling each week, the need to share my thoughts on the nation's favourite pastime (except for prostitution, obviously) will vary from programme to programme, but for now I'll say sayonara.

Can't believe Marianne didn't win Great British Bake-Off though. That Jo, with her four sons and inspirational story of breaking out of the kitchen (though admittedly she didn't so much break out as do a u-turn right back into the kitchen) and achieving her dream. What a bitch, eh?

Medical Emergency: Doctor Who - 'The Wedding of River Song' and Series Review

What the hell?

Was that - but -

WHAT THE HELL?

Um.

What on earth did I just witness?

Such, gentle reader, were the thoughts sending my brain into Control-Alt-Delete style screen-freeze after watching 'The Wedding of River Song'. Repeating "what?" more times than the 10th Doctor after the Space Titanic crashes into his TARDIS, I have only now composed and ordered my thoughts that I may impart them to you.

That's a complete lie, I have no idea what to feel. Did I like it? Was it good? WHO KNOWS (oh god, no pun intended, especially not with the episode ending on those words). I'm not even sure I was supposed like it. I'm not even sure it was an episode. I'm not even sure that reality exists anymore, perhaps it's just disintegrating and CGI balloon-trains are going to came sailing past my window at any point now. Anything could happen, because apparently the universe is now ruled by insanity and deceptively simple narratives.

Oh Moffat, you must be cackling in your tower like the evil genius you are, and I don't blame you.

I've found it hard to be really excited about the second half of Series 6. The fact that I didn't get round to reviewing the last few episodes stand as testament to that. I did start writing reviews but found my interest in the episodes fizzled out a few minutes after they ended.* In other words, Doctor Who became like regular TV: no drive to analyse or theorise endlessly. Largely I think this was because there was simultaneously too much mystery and too little. Too much in the sense of the late Sherlock Holmes stories: the reader couldn't possibly guess at the solution because it all hinged around an overload of meaningless information that could only come into focus by Holmes revealing a previously unknown character or object or plot point. All the "Silence will fall when the question is asked" stuff was impenetrable (and still is, to some extent) - I highly doubt that even the most dedicated of Whovians heard that and gasped "But of course!" A mystery where there's absolutely no chance that the viewer/reader can solve it is no fun at all. Then there was too little mystery, in the sense that the whole plot seemed perfectly laid out before us: River was in the suit, she killed the Doctor, she went to prison for it. There was nothing for us to guess at, except maybe how the Doctor escaped (because clearly he must) and surely Moffat would have some left-field solution for that - which (in a sense) he did.

Because, hand on heart, I totally forgot about the Tesselecta, bringing to an end my run of plot-guessing good luck. I dismissed the Flesh!Doctor as an obvious red herring but failed to notice the other doppelganger-maker of the series because it seemed like such a daft idea. Well, kudos, to you Moffat and I take my hat off to you. It turns out you knew what you were doing all along. Rather like the Doctor, in fact, I thought you were walking resignedly towards disaster, when in fact you were just waiting to pull a rather audacious backhand: a beautifully simple solution to a very complex problem. Too simple? Or too complex? Perhaps. But my goodness, it makes lovely television. Leaving aside his trademark plot-wrangling, Moffat showcased another of his abilities: an eye for spectacle. Trains over London, pterodactyls in the park, Winston Churchill on a mammoth: why? Because why the hell not. As in 'A Good Man Goes to War', it is this audacity, coupled with a keenly self-mocking sense of humour, that saves Moffat's episodes from falling apart under their own weight.

Speaking of self-mockery, this may well be the most meta episode of Doctor Who there's ever been. Matt Smith all but turned and winked at the camera with his references to Who canon and that rather touching inclusion of Old Who's Brigadier, whose actor died earlier this year. Then there was the Silents acknowledging Rory as "the man who dies and dies again", River's deliciously tongue in cheek "There are so many theories about you and I - am I the woman who marries you or the woman who murders you?" and (my favourite) Dickens teaser trailering the Christmas special. Then, of course, there was The Question which - much like the revelation of River's parentage - I might have guessed at jokily if I'd actually been blogging these last few weeks. So "Doctor who?" is "the oldest question in the universe, hidden in plain sight" is it? Plain sight being the title of a long-running children's sci-fi show that has never quite made sense because the character is clearly called 'The Doctor', perhaps? It's so meta, I could cry tears of self-aware joy. It's also completely preposterous but I just don't think Moffat cares, so perhaps neither should we.

On a deeper level, the meta-fun extends to the whole structure of the series itself. Ever since 2005, the show-runners have faced the problem of how to keep bettering themselves, how to keep producing finales that are bigger and shinier and more portentous and doom-laden than ever before and it just isn't possible. Tennant's messianic gurning nearly capsized the boat and, I'll admit, I was worried that we'd been seeing re-runs of the Time-Lord-on-Death-Row routine for the last few weeks. But now, with the universe thinking the Doctor is dead (oh Moff, for our lack of faith in questioning why you set up that storyline when he clearly couldn't be really dead, we repent), the show can return to classic adventures, romps and skullduggery, weird planets and bizarre aliens, familiar foes and old friends, and still keep the ticking clock of this new the-question-will-be-asked story arc in the background. A ticking clock, no doubt, that will reach zero hour in time for Matt Smith's exit ("the fall of the Eleventh"?) neatly coinciding with the show's 50th anniversary in 2013. That really is extremely clever.

If I have one major criticism of this episode (alongside all the other little things that just didn't make sense), it was that it didn't feel much like a series finale to me, more a bridge into the next series. In fact, the whole of Season 6 has felt like this to me, especially now we fully understand where it was going: the Doctor's death, River's role in things, these aren't really important in the long run. What's important is what comes after; it was all a set up for a sort of reboot of the reboot. I'm a little sad, because there's been some sterling work this year and to think of the whole thirteen episodes as simply paving the way for a bigger picture doesn't do justice to that. Then again, it's also sort of a relief: if the show is signalling a return to quieter episodes, more of the Doctor "in the shadows" then it means Moffat isn't actually the crazed megalomaniac we know and love. (Let's not hold out too much hope.)

So what have we learned from Series 6 of NuWho? Well, amongst other things, Moffat still has some very funny ideas about women. Both of the series' female protagonists started off as independent (fairly) well-drawn characters and ended up in story lines revolving around motherhood and the Love of Good Man. I can't quite fathom Amy and Rory's lack of crushing breakdown and depression when they realised they would never get to, y'know, hold their firstborn child in their arms and whilst their exit from the show was very well done, I won't miss them much. Not even Rory, who seems to have been forced to attend Masculinity 101 classes - when he wasn't involved in the sort of characterisation ping-pong game that had him still questioning Amy's love for him over the Doctor long after that should have been settled.

So maybe characters aren't Moffat's strong suit, but we've seen plenty of what is: namely, sheer cheek. His story lines may be ridiculous, but they're also immensely entertaining, and the minute we start clutching our pearls and shouting "unbelievable!" at the television about Doctor Who of all things is the minute we should probably step back and go "Guys. Let's calm the fuck down." Epic, extraordinary journeys to the furthest reaches of the galaxy and sparkling, witty dialogue are two things our revered showrunner has down. For next season, I'd like to see some more attention paid to what we might call the 'middle tier' of writing: the people actually doing the journeys to the Seventh Moon of Kallinda and speaking the funny gags about wi-fi. Presumably there'll be some new companions on the horizon and once I stop sobbing "It should have been me!" I'm sure I'll be very excited.

So. Series 7. Bring it, I say. Let there be Matt Smith, let there be Alex Kingston, let there be more lines like "as for the nights, they're between us" to send the old-school fanboys departing in waves of outrage howling "BUT HE'S ASEXUAL" and possibly even "LOOOOOOOOOOOMS" (google it) back to their basements. Let there be new companions who are smart and funny and who don't fall prey either to gender norms or the idea that they are the Single Most Important Entity Ever. Let there be silly weeks where they encounter the Trolls of Troy (I don't know), and let there be scary weeks where they encounter the Shadows of Broken Teeth (I really don't know), and let there be downright awesome weeks where the whole thing is pretty much Matt Smith standing atop the TARDIS yelling, "I AM DOCTOR, HEAR ME ROAR." And let Neil Gaiman back to write at least once per series until the end of time.

To sum up Series 6, it's been...odd. Some I've loved, some I've hated (Thompson), some just left me cold. And that is a sad thing. When Doctor Who fails to get a reaction from me, end times are surely nigh. We wave goodbye to Series 6 with fondness and a little relief, and look forward to Series 7 with high hopes. In the meantime, there's the Christmas special and I've already seen photos of Matt Smith in a 1920s motorcar and a charity shop version of Iron Man's suit. Can't. Wait.

So, the rankings are in and they're really, really unsurprising:

12) The Curse of the Black Spot

I imagine this may come as a shock to some of you, but I really hated this episode.

11) Let's Kill Hitler

Mels. Ugh.

10) Day of the Moon

A disappointing follow up to a storming series opener.

9) Closing Time

Sweet but insubstantial and crucially lacking in real villains.

8) Night Terrors

Heart-warming and atmospheric, but predictably resolved.

7)The Rebel Flesh/The Almost People

A solidly good story, if a little preachy, and very entertaining. (Also not much to separate the two, so I lumped them together.)

6) The Wedding of River Song

It was funny, it was fast, it involved the Doctor and River actually getting married, which personally I find highly erotic. (Please know I am joking. Mostly.)

5) The Impossible Astronaut

Oh look, I just really, really, really enjoyed it.

4) The Girl Who Waited

Even if I didn't have much of a connection to Amy, the episode was beautifully shot and written - a proper piece of grown-up telly.

3) The God Complex

Toby Whithouse at his best, all tea and philosophical debates about the fundamental nature of man. Funny and poignant and a great send-off for the Ponds.

2) A Good Man Goes to War

Utterly brilliant telly from beginning to end - audacious, high-spirited, packed to the gills with lesbian Silurians (no pun intended), blue man troupe ex-members, and Matt Smith with a grin so broad it was practically a northern accent.

1) The Doctor's Wife

Clearly the jewel in the crown of Series 6. To my mind, it was the only episode that really nailed what makes a classic episode: a strong, simple concept that causes emotional as well as narrative complexities, quotable dialogue, a beautiful and weird aesthetic, stellar performances and the most haunting use of the word "hello" I've ever heard. BAFTA, please.

And there we have it. Have a nice hibernation, Doctor. You have a lot of work to do in the spring.

*I'd actually like to finish and post those reviews, so we'll see if I get round to it. If you want a mini-rundown, I thought 'The God Complex' was great, if a little incongruously silly, and 'Closing Time' was a sweet, funny episode that never quite got as poignant as it wanted to be. So now you don't have to read them, even if I do post them. Possibly haven't quite got the hang of this blogging thing yet.

...

In other telly news, Doctor Who got a little shout-out on Community in its Season 3 opener 'Biology 101' with Abed drowning his sorrows at the impending demise of Cougartown with "Inspector Spacetime". "This is the best show I've ever seen," he says immediately. We're glad you feel that way.

I was also glad to see Community back up to speed again this week with 'Geography of Global Conflict' after an opener that was surprisingly low on laughs and high on mid-life crisis (crises?). This week the laughs came flooding back in - but then both of the previous seasons were (ahem) growers and the real gold came mid-season. Excitingly, Annie/Jeff now seems to be being touted as a real possibility - either that or it was blown out the water completely. I'm not sure which, it was kind of hard to tell.

And, best of all, Merlin is back without me even realising it for I have not seen a single trailer for it. For those of you who don't know, Merlin is set in a kind of alternate universe Camelot where Uther Pendragon is king, Prince Arthur is a prissy little bitch, Guinevere is a servant, Merlin has to keep his magic secret because it's banned (or something) and Morgana is a really terrible actress. It's in its fourth series now and, despite the "dark and edgy" makeover, occasionally goes "oh shit, this is supposed to be a kid's show, let's throw in a couple of fart jokes". It's silly and preposterous and if anyone wants to join me for wine and cake while it's on, a right good time will be had by all.