The House Husband

with occasional entries by The Dean

Passion? What Passion?

Tonight Dawn unfortunately accompanied me to see a production at The Mill. I say ‘unfortunately’ because it turned out to be an amateur production. I should say that she enjoyed it, so I don’t feel too bad about it.

Earlier in the day, I had to make myself scarce as we had another viewing. After an early start giving the place a good clean, I hitched up the poodles and took to the park for an hour.

Due to all the rain we’ve had recently, the park is quite squishy and muddy. The poodles are keener on the hard path so we took the big circle around the park. As the sun was shining bright (when we started) I took my camera and telephoto lens, trying to get some more birds in flight.

Almost a great photo of a crow in flight

It was very odd because although the air was full of bird song, there were actually very few birds in it. Clearly they were all in the trees having a big gas-bag between themselves. Possibly telling each other that there’s always plenty of food at our place. Still, I managed a few, including a rather nice magpie, which I blipped and a few which I didn’t.

I also spotted this little chap sitting high up in a tree, just waiting for me to snap his photo. Needless to say he was keeping his beady eyes firmly on the poodles even though he was about 20 feet up.

Mr Precarious Perch, the Squirrel

Not quite so well hidden was this wonderful Alsation that lay down as soon as he/she saw the poodles, wanting to make friends. They, as usual, wanted nothing to do with such nonsense.

Someone else's dog wanting to play with ours

Back at the house, there was no evidence that anyone had looked at the house and we sat down to lunch.

In the afternoon I took myself off to Guildford on a shopping expedition, something I rarely do. Nicktor had told me that a new branch of my favourite shop (TK Maxx) had opened in Guildford and he wasn’t wrong. Over three floors, it’s a bargain shoppers dream come true. I managed to get two pairs of trousers and two long sleeved t-shirts for (just) under £60. Of course, I realise the edicts of this house are that for every new t-shirt, an old one must go and this will happen tomorrow. Promise.

Dawn met me at the Yvonne Arnaud and we popped into the Britannia for a lovely salad for dinner before heading over to the theatre.

Passion is a one act musical by Stephen Sondheim (and James Lapine), which is why I wanted to see it. Last week I found out that it has just finished a short season at the Donmar Warehouse on the West End, which is a real pity. This wasn’t that production.

Sondheim wrote Passion in 1994 and it’s an interesting story based (very loosely) on an autobiographical novel called Fosca, set during the Italian Wars of Unification in the late 1800s. That makes it sound very dull (or very exciting) but it actually centres around a young soldier and his discovery that beauty is not skin deep and we have to look beneath the skin to find true love. It’s about passion.

Let me say at the outset that it is typically Sondheim in that there’s not really any ‘tunes’ that you come out singing (although we both came out humming a short refrain of about 16 notes that seemed to have been repeated throughout the piece) and it’s nearly all sung with minimal talk. Sondheim also needs certain types of voices (think Bernadette Peters and her ilk) to truly sing him well.

I was fully prepared to give Passion a proper review here until I realised it was an amateur production. In which case, I really don’t think it’s fair to be too honest. The cast all worked as hard as they could and, I think, really enjoyed themselves. In an amateur production, these things count for a lot. Also they entertained Dawn so it wasn’t a completely wasted effort. Oh, and the other 30 odd people in the theatre.

What I will say is that the girl who played Clara (Lauren Morris) was fantastic. A wonderful voice and an actor of great poise and natural talent. I could have listened to and watched her all night. if by some strange twist of fate, she gets to read this, I’d like to say thank you for a delightful performance.

Of the rest, I’ll just say that the guy playing the doctor reminded me of Nigel – the same size, the same voice, the same level of acting skill and the woman playing Fosca should really know not to wear black and white lacy knickers under her white Victorian nightdress. I blame the director for this, although it’s surely pretty obvious. Dawn, who tends not to notice the bad things, even commented on it. The only thing I’ll add to that is BIG WHITE PANTS, Jenny Moon – buy them, wear them!

I was quite impressed by the orchestra. Sondheim isn’t easy to play but they managed very well. I should mention the sterling job of the percussionist (Jon Stock) who was held up by a fallen tree and, running really, really late, rushed in and gave a jolly good series of drum rolls throughout the show.

One more thing – Passion doesn’t really have any humour in it (which annoys me) but the one or two joke lines were delivered extremely well by the guy playing the cook. Either that or we were desperate for a laugh.

I’ll just finish with a lovely picture of the Avenue of Trees…just for balance.

Winter along the Avenue of Trees

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You’ll soon drip precious rubies

Ages ago I had an email from Dawn, asking whether Mirinda and I would like to accompany them to Chichester to see Sweeney Todd, the Demon Barber of Fleet Street. Seeing as Sweeney is my favourite musical, it wasn’t a tough decision. As I said, this was quite a while ago and it’s been a wait but tonight it was finally time to go.

Ignoring any remarks by Mirinda, as soon as I discovered that Michael Ball was cast as Sweeney I thought he was terribly miscast. I’m not saying he’s not a great musical performer, just that he’s not what I’d consider, Sweeney material. Not that this affected whether I’d go or not.

Well, I was right. The star of this production of Sweeney Todd was Imelda Staunton as Mrs Lovett. She was extraordinary. I would go so far as to say she gave one of my top five performances in a musical. And I’ve seen a few! Her performance was completely and utterly flawless, believable and delightful.

While this is wonderful for Ms Staunton, it’s an awfully big hill to climb for Michael Ball. And it was a hill he never managed to climb. He sang the right notes and managed to deliver the dialogue, he didn’t bump into the furniture and found the spots but he wasn’t Sweeney. No malevolence, no brooding violence, no coiled spring. And his accent grated.

It occurs to me that this production should be renamed Nellie Lovett, the Pie Shop Owner Who Knew Sweeney Todd.

It’s a shame because the rest of the production was fantastic though why the designer decided to set it in the 1930s rather than Victorian London is a bit odd. I can understand transporting plays of the human condition back and forth through time in order to show that human beings change little over time but Sweeney is really all about that period. He is a victim of the iniquities of the vast gaps in the Victorian classes.

Still, that’s a minor quibble and one of artistic difference. The beauty of Sondheim’s music and lyrics is all pervasive. From the shock of the short, sharp phrasing to the constant thrum of the bass strings, it reached into you and tweaked your emotions with ease. From the initial staccato “…swing your razor high, Sweeney…” which springs unexpectedly from the opening smoothness to the shrill blasts on the steam whistle, it was all perfect.

I’m glad to say that Nicktor stayed awake and Dawn enjoyed it. Mirinda wasn’t so keen on all the blood. In the car she said “Give me Oklahoma!” Still, I think we all had a good time although it would be remiss of me not to mention the appalling auditorium at the theatre. What an architectural horror! Clearly the designer didn’t have the comfort of the audience in mind.

From the theatre it was off to the wonderful Earl of March for dinner.

Cheers from the Earl of March

All up, a lovely day spent with the Cansfields. We really should do it more often.

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What makes a good drama

Since breaking my wrist, I have been watching a lot of escapist stuff on the TV. Apart from DVDs, I have been dipping into the BT Vision drama section, looking for something exciting, funny and gripping. BT Vision has a lot of American programmes stored up that we wouldn’t normally see, either because we don’t watch commercial TV or because the English don’t buy them, deciding they’re rubbish.

Searching through and occasionally watching a pilot or two, I started to wonder what made a programme successful from my point of view. What is it that makes me watch an entire series rather than stopping ten minutes into the first episode?

For instance, this week I started watching something called Human Target and it has managed to hook me into watching the first three episodes so far and I can’t see me stopping any time soon. But, I ask myself, why? The premise is pretty ridiculous and the plots impossible so clearly it’s not because it’s particularly clever. And then I realised it contains the four things I like in a good drama: excitement, likeable characters, sexual tension and humour.

I applied this short criteria to other drama programmes I have either liked or dismissed and it tends to hold true. I clearly have no problem suspending my disbelief! I really don’t care if it’s possible or not…it is fiction after all.

So, here’s a list of programmes I didn’t get hooked by and why:

The Good Wife
Nice legal type drama with a (sort of) interesting back story and arc. Plenty of sexual tension between two of the leading characters. The courtroom scenes provide the excitement. The trouble with it is the complete lack of humour. The central character, the wife of the title, never smiles let alone wisecracks. That wouldn’t be so bad except no-one else does either. This lack of humour just makes it a dreary, miserable effort and I wonder why I should bother.

The Vampire Diaries
I have absolutely no idea why this is popular. The characters are stereotypes, the excitement created by music and mood rather than script or performance driven, the plots so simple they’d appeal to the youngest audience possible…ah, I think I’ve worked it out. Like the popularity of Harry Potter, it’s simplicity that sells it. In fact, if you look closely, Vampire Diaries is One Tree Hill with the undead being vampires rather than school kids. I can’t help but compare it to Buffy which has to be one of the best TV drama series ever made. Clearly it just doesn’t rate. The worst thing is, there is no humour. Is that what kids want? Teenage angst and no laughs? How sadly simple.

Huge
This is clearly a half hour comedy about American kids attending a Fat Camp, given an hour slot in order to provide the show with a bit of drama. The humour (though on the whole pretty obvious) is there but there’s no excitement and very little sexual tension (except in a growing up and not being fancied sort of way). The drama is created pretty much from nothing. Back story is very obvious and not interesting. In fact, the whole programme seems to hammer home the message that fat kids need love as much as skinny kids. It’s sad that this isn’t obvious. However, the worst thing about Huge is that none of the characters are very likeable. I found this one simply boring.

Undercovers
Here is a programme that should be successful. A couple of brilliant ex-CIA agents have married and set up a restaurant. Of course, they are needed week after week to sort out some black op or other and they manage to do it with lots of excitement and high tech wizardry. The two leads are very sexy, the wisecracks are funny and frequent. The programme looks like it’s had a lot of money spent on it which gives it a fine glossy appearance. I only watched the first two episodes. The reason why is because there is no sexual tension between the two main characters. They are clearly in a loving, long lasting relationship. It has a lovely Mission Impossible feel but I just find myself not really caring about the happily married couple driving it.

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On the one-handed challenge front, today I discovered it is very difficult to wash cutlery with only one hand (without a dishwasher at least) and stuffing pillows into clean pillowcases is not so much impossible as time consuming.

Thank you, Audrey, for your wishes.

And, Mum, it would have been a waste of time because the doctor would have sent me to the specialist anyway, meaning two trips rather than one. When I was at the hospital on Saturday I was seen by someone from the Fractures Clinic who said she’d refer me and I guess she did!

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As usual, Nicktor Night was spendid

We ate Chez Gaz gourmet lamb burgers al fresco with Nicktor continually telling the girls they weren’t getting fed from the table. He did this once a long time ago and was given a severe reprimand. As a reward he left them a bit which was immediately devoured, almost before hitting their bowls.

Nicktor dropped off at the Hogs Back Brewery on the way over so we had the pleasure of drinking fresh beer in a big plastic bottle. The sort of lovely beer that has a short life use by date ensuring it is consumed as quickly as possible. In olden times, this would have been called ‘small beer’. It is brewed to go – fast beer, if you will.

We actually had an interesting discussion about Macdonalds and why people like eating tasteless food. Setting the health issues aside, it always amazes me that people eat for the sake of eating rather than for the joy of the taste. I mean, we all have to eat so why make it joyless?

I’m not having a go at Macdonalds. After all, they are one of the most successful companies ever to open its doors to the world, but I wonder why people keep eating there. Nicktor says it’s a treat for his boys when they go and they love it. I still wonder what’s to love. I asked why they don’t prefer KFC because, while clearly just as bad for you, it at least has a lot of taste. He just shrugged.

This led quite naturally to a discussion about why, so called beer drinkers were content with tasteless lagers. Not all lagers, of course. I’m quite partial to Peroni and there’s some marvellous German, Belgian and French beers I try as often as possible. It’s the likes of Fosters and Carling and Heiniken that has me bemused. It seems people only drink it to get drunk without anything as mundane as taste to get in the way. And these breweries are very successful.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m all for getting drunk but I like to employ my sense of taste while doing so. I’m not being a real ale snob; I really wish someone who willingly drinks tasteless beer would explain it to me.

After an enjoyable chat, we were no closer to the truth but it appears to be that the less taste, the more successful a product will be. Humans are very odd sometimes.

Our two films this week were The Firm (not to be confused with the Tom Cruise film of the same name but very different premise) and the original I Spit on Your Grave. The former about football hooligans wrapped in a coming of age story about a young lad from London and the latter a tale of very sweet revenge.

We were a bit disappointed with The Firm. It promised much but delivered little. The humour, however, was fantastic and ran through it like a soft centre of caramel surrounded by excessively dark chocolate.

The one thing it did do was to give me a glimpse into the strange world of 1980s fashion in London. I now know where the chavs inherited their love of tracksuits and appalling haircuts.

While it showed the grim reality of football violence and how these things escalate out of control when you allay yourself to a demented leader, there was no football – I’m disregarding the brief spell of 5-a-side that the hooligans play at one stage. Not having the backdrop of football tends to dilute the message because it just becomes a film about a bunch of violent guys who go out and beat each other up in mass riots. Essentially there is no reason, albeit a slim one, when the impetus is removed.

I realise it’s actually a film about Dom growing up and away from his childhood, wanting to be accepted by the tribal members of an older fraternity but it still lacks the football and I think that is essential.

I Spit on Your Grave was interesting when we had seen the remake a few Nicktor Nights ago. The original is very dated (it was made in 1978) and was obviously made on an extremely tiny budget – even the leading lady looks like she hadn’t had a meal for years. Afterwards, Nicktor said he preferred the remake but I disagreed. My thinking was that for all its gloss, the remake added more gore than was entirely necessary as well as an extra character who was a bit surplus in my view.

Nicktor did rather like the way in which the chief protagonist met his end however. Sitting in a bath tub with the leading lady apparently going to give him a lot of pleasure. Instead, she cuts off his privatest of parts with a big knife. He has his eyes closed, lost in the moment and mumbles: “It feels good. So good, it hurts.” Suddenly blood gushes up as a main artery is severed and he stares down into the tub in disbelief. Classic revenge moment.

Of course it has problems but not quite as many as the remake – the girl’s survival for one – which, for me, makes the original better.

The evening’s entertainment, however, was not over yet. We sat and watched two episodes of the British sitcom I wasn’t allowed to mention in a previous posting. Nicktor decided I could reveal the name as he feels his shame should be spread across the entire Internet. It was Sorry!, starring little Ronnie Corbett, from a time of gentler comedy. We laughed all the way through both episodes. I have just discovered, there are 7 series…

I love Nicktor Nights. Nicktor is getting a new job. I hope we can still have them.

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Bleck

The only bright light in this otherwise miserable Sunday is that I just found out another Red Dwarf series is being made at the end of this year.

Raindrops in the birdbath

And in the midst of drought, the rain will drown us. The above photograph is what our back garden looks like And has looked like all day. According to the BBC weather website, it will stop sometime tonight and be cloudy but dry tomorrow. I hope so because Dawn and I are going to visit a causewayed enclosure which is definitely not under any sort of cover.

We had all sorts of plans for today but the weather put paid to them as well as Mirinda having the beginnings of a possible cold which we have attempted to nip in the bud. Fingers crossed that has worked.

Anyway, we had plans but didn’t actually do anything much except smooch around the house. But, rather than have nothing to write about, I have my thoughts on Black Swan, which we saw last night.

An odd film, I should start by saying. I’m pretty sure a ballet dancer, knowledgeable in Swan Lake would understand the film a little better than a poor layman like me. However, it soon becomes apparent that the swan in Swan Lake is two swans. The black and the white. Good and bad. Pure and filthy. They are opposites. And Nina (Natalie Portman) has to play both, in playing the one. This supposed division of personality is reflected in her real persona, to the point where we, the audience, is not sure what is real and what is Nina’s interpretation.

Filmed superbly, acted brilliantly. It is a fantastic movie and Natalie Portman is tremendous. I’d also like to comment on Barbara Hershey who plays the mother because I thought she was utterly believable. That is all I have to say.

I recommend Black Swan for the dancing, for the performances but most of all for the fact that it is a work of art.

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Sad Wednesday

No lunch with Mirinda this week as she had a meeting booked right across it. So I stayed at home and wrote some test scripts for my dissertation. Who’da thunk it? All those years of being a tester have come in handy after all.

Though cloudy most of the day, we’ve had only little spits of rain every now and then. For breaks, therefore, I weeded and planted some snapdragons. I also took the poodles to the park. Carmen had an FSI! Annoying dog. She also freaked out when a golden retriever tried to sniff her butt. Day-z jumped into my arms but Carmen was left running in circles around me, her tail down as this big dog eagerly tried to sniff her. It makes a change from her snapping at other dogs and embarrassing me!

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I’ve just realised I forgot to give my review of Tim Burton’s Alice in Wonderland that we watched on Saturday. So…

For anyone that doesn’t know, I’m a big Alice fan. I’ve read both books many times and even sat on Alice Liddell’s grave! I’ve also seen the secret garden in Oxford where she played with her sister. I’ve visited the Alice Shop in Oxford which was the original inspiration for the shop in Looking Glass where the sheep is knitting. Of course, there are lots of Lewis Carroll stuff in Guildford because he lived with his aunt there for a while. I’ve stood at his grave on the Mount and smiled at his gentle genius. So, yes, I’m a big fan.

I sat down to watch Burton’s version with some trepidation. I knew beforehand that it was about an older Alice and that both books had been amalgamated to create a new adventure. These things didn’t really bother me. The characters are so wonderful, an attempt to move the story forward in time is a tribute to Carroll’s masterpieces. In this, I think Burton succeeded. His Alice doesn’t remember the Wonderland of her childhood and this gives the director an opportunity to re-introduce her (and us) to all the ‘Underland’ characters, as if for the first time. An excellent device.

The look of the film is fantastic. Exactly as it should be. A magical place with a hint of foreboding. Like Alice, we should not know what to expect. Speaking of Alice (Mia Wasikowska), I thought she was terrific. Her gradual growth (not literally!) was cleverly accomplished by both director and actor. I believed she was an older Alice.

One of the main problems Burton has is his continual use of both Helena Bonham-Carter and Johnny Depp. I reviewed Sweeney Todd a while ago and thought they were terribly miscast. Not this time. Helena, particularly. She is tremendous as the Red Queen. Johnny Depp, too, was a great Mad Hatter.

With so many great actors in the film, mostly as voices for animated characters, it’s difficult to pick any single one out. As for animated characters, the Cheshire cat was superb. The way it slowly vanished into smoke was exactly as I’ve always imagined it. Beautifully voiced by Stephen Fry as well.

A big surprise was Anne Hathaway as the White Queen. What a ditz! She was tremendous. Loved her performance. I can’t forget the Tweedles. Marvellous Matt Lucas.

And so, I really enjoyed the film, but…of course there’s a but and it’s a big one. Actually there’s a big but and a quibble. Firstly the quibble.

I’m not sure why the Red Queen had playing cards for her soldiers. I have no problem with her being the ‘baddie’ rather than the Queen of Hearts, even though it was the latter who always said “Off with his head!“. I cannot understand why the cards, though. It makes no sense. Especially when the White Queen had chess pieces for her army. Small, but annoying. There was also a mistake in the flash back sequence but, at the moment, I can’t remember it.

My big problem with the film as a sequel to Alice is the format. The thing about the two Alice books is that they are made up of a series of adventures that Alice goes through. Both have an ending (the garden party and trial in Wonderland, Alice being made a queen in Looking Glass) but neither is a struggle for good and evil with a hero needed to save the goodies from evil. And this is what Burton created. A typical fantasy film where an unlikely hero is needed to thwart an evil threat hanging over a once peaceful place. Works fine in Narnia, Lord of The Rings, and any number of other fantasy stories. I think it’s an easy option and rather sad given Burton’s early skills of personality films (think Edward Scissorhands).

Anyway, Mirinda thinks I’m wrong. She loved it. And, to be fair, I loved it as a film. Just not as an Alice.

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Our Wonderful Night

My Wonderful Day by Alan Ayckbourn
Review by Gaz

The premise of the play is a child’s view of an adult world, where she is an often ignored bystander to events. Within this, Winnie, the child, is writing an essay for her homework. It is a piece called My Wonderful Day. Because of this, we see her madly scribbling away whenever anything happens. A LOT happens!

Winnie’s mother, Laverne, is a cleaner and is heavily pregnant (about 10 days to go, she says). On this particular day, she brings Winnie to work with her on the condition she just sits quietly and doesn’t get in anyone’s way. At the same time, the people who live in the house are going through something of a crisis. Naturally this is all grist to Winnie’s mill as she takes it all down with gusto.

One of the funniest devices I’ve come across for a long time is the fact that Winnie and her mother have this deal. They are learning French together and, in order to achieve fluency for when they jet off to Martinique in the future of Laverne’s dreams, they speak only in French on Tuesdays. This means that the visitors to the house, and the owner, are convinced she only speaks French. This device has two functions. It’s clearly hilarious from the audience’s point of view because we know the truth and it gives the adults more freedom to speak in front of Winnie. It’s also just funny!

Anyway, the production was excellent, as most Ayckbourn productions are but the absolute stand-out is Winnie herself. She is 9 years old and played by Ayesha Antoine who is 28! And utterly convincing. I didn’t know how old she was during the play and was convinced she was a little girl with exceptional talent. Instead, it seems, she is a fully grown woman with exceptional talent. The play depends on you believing she is a little girl and it worked completely. A wonderful performance that I’m very glad I saw.

Of the rest of the cast, the mother (Petra Letang) and Paula (Alexandra Mathie) were both excellent. Paul Kemp, as Josh was a typical Ayckbourn downcast, set upon, Tom type character and managed it very well. Sadly, the other two didn’t particularly thrill me. I figured I could have managed the male lead a lot better and the young, bulimic girl just grated on my nerves. This sort of thing is fine in small doses but she just kept it up. When Paula threw her out, I felt like cheering.

So, all round, a wonderful night out. Plenty of laughs, some great performances and we have discovered some excellent seats which we will be trying for each time we go in the future.

As a side note, we have a theory that for a play to be good, it needs a cast which features a majority of actors who have appeared in The Bill. I have never kept particularly good records of this (sad given how much theatre we used to see) but I shall attempt to record the facts as we attend other performances. For this there were six actors and five of them have appeared in The Bill. I am calling this The Bill Factor. Therefore, My Wonderful Day has a Bill Factor of 6/5.

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Sleepy

I am working like a lunatic, trying to finish my fourth essay (it’s due next week) and the computer is driving me even crazier. I think my previous long days parked in front of a computer screen are forever behind me. I can’t manage more than a few hours and I need a distracting break for a bit.

And I’m not sure what it is. It’s not like I get a headache or eye strain or sore back or anything like that. I just get a bit bored with doing the same thing. It could also have something to do with the fact that I’ve not had a lot of sleep this week…what with Nicktor coming over and introducing me to a new whisky.

Anyway, regardless of that, I’m up to 2,000 words so I’m almost there (2,500-3,000 required). And while the title seems interesting (An analysis and description of the information communication chain as it relates to the archaeological sector, using aspects of domain analysis) it’s more disturbing how disparate it all is. Too little consistency out there!

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Last night I saw one of the worst sit-coms I think I’ve ever seen. It’s a new series called The Persuasionists and, unbelievably, it was on BB2. Now, believe me, I’ll laugh at virtually anything. As long as it’s vaguely funny. This thing was not. Not once did I smile, let alone laugh. It was diabolically unfunny. And while the script was exceedingly ordinary, when it tried harder, it was even worse. If you happen to see it in a TV schedule, ignore it. Tell everyone you know to avoid it. If you accidentally see a few moments, never admit it. To anyone. It’s not even a ‘it’s so bad it’s good’ type show like Bonekickers, the ‘thrilling’ archaeology series enjoyed only because it was so silly when purporting to be serious. No, The Persuasionists is just plain awful. I can’t believe a commissioning editor read the pilot script, let alone saw any of it.

To quote Tim Dowling, TV reviewer for The Guardian, “It’s hard to locate exactly what went wrong with this project, so I’m recording a verdict of death by misadventure.” His full review (the final paragraph after the bit about pill taking on Horizon, is here.

One final note, in the words of Lynn Rowlands-Connolly (Unreality Primetime reviewer) “…it lacks the one fundamental for a comedy; comedy.” Her full review is here.

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I took the poodles for a jaunt across the Queen’s Bottom today. In the distance I could see a small patch of white, clear and crisp on the green grass. Upon closer inspection, it turned out to be, not a discarded bit of polystyrene, not a white bin liner full of dumped garbage (we haven’t had a rubbish collection around here since before Christmas so this would not surprise me), not a big pile of ice cream…no! It was the last bit of snow, slowly melting in the weak winter sun. And here it is. You’ll have to take my word that it’s in the middle of the Queen’s Bottom. Behind me is an equally snow free vista.

Last of the snow

Last of the snow

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