Well, I didn’t cry. My manly persona, such as it is, was preserved as I stoically held myself together in front of my weeping wife and children. Well, actually, okay then, nobody cried. We did all think it a possibility and hankies were handed out just prior to transmission but in the end our emotions were only manipulated so far.

That’s not to say we weren’t affected. We were thrilled, as Wilf shot down missile after missile, whirling like a dervish in one of the gun turrets of the Hesperus, enthralled, as the Time Lords returned, led by an evil Rassilon!, and how we laughed at the WORST! RESCUE! EVER! Oh, yes, this episode had it all. It was certainly much better than the set-up last week and it would be churlish to criticise something this good, this entertaining, but I still didn’t quite feel it. I got pretty close, especially during that last ‘Doctor’s reward’ montage. I remember watching the end of “Journey’s End” and thinking that this would have been a good way for the Tenth Doctor to go, surrounded by his companions and wondered how RTD was going to top it for Tennant’s regeneration. With Wilf being the main focus and Donna out of necessity having to be kept in the background it seemed criminal that this Doctor would regenerate alone. But at least he got to say goodbye, as did we, to many of the memorable characters created by RTD and his team over the last five years.

Yet, it was almost with a sense of ennui that I said my own personal goodbye to this Doctor. Against all the odds, Tennant has become my favourite. I thought he’d make a good Doctor when I saw him in the first episode of Blackpool. I knew he’d make a great Doctor when I saw him in episode one of Casanova. By the end of that series I was convinced he would be the best Doctor ever. And he has been, effortlessly. I think the problem has been, like that final sequence, his death went on for too long. It’s been nearly a year since his successor was introduced and this certainty has overshadowed some of the specials that have attempted to fill the void of this so-called gap year.

RTD has played some nice tricks during that time. The fake regeneration at the end of “The Stolen Earth” was classic, still, for me, the best cliffhanger ever. The ambiguity of last year’s Christmas special, The Next Doctor, kept the intrigue going. Perhaps all these fake-outs explains why, despite the ferocious efforts of the BBC publicity machine, the hype and hysteria didn’t quite live up to the actual happening? 10.4 million viewers are not to be sneezed at, and that figure will climb with time-shift taken into account and add on repeats and HD and the total reach will be somewhere between 12 and 13 million but for some reason not all of those were transfixed to their TV screens as it happened. Was it a case of too much Tennant? Hmmm. Answers on a postcard, please.

Out of the four of us watching my youngest was the most distressed at Tennant leaving. That’s fair enough: Tennant was his Doctor. Amusingly, from an experienced fan who has been through it all before, he was quite sullen when Matt Smith appeared. My declaration that the Eleventh Doctor was already my favourite after just over a minute of screen time was partly a way of communicating that acceptance of change is what this show is all about and that he may grow to love the new man no matter how unlikely it may seem just now. But a secret part of me already accepts the possibility that this may be true. As much as I like Tennant I can see huge potential in the new guy and his exhilarated “Geronimo!” at the end of the episode as the TARDIS, in flames, started to crash, was a tantalising taste of what’s to come.

There was a lot more to the episode than the regeneration, however. The return of the Time Lords was very nicely done. Resplendent in their traditional, if slightly spruced up, robes, Rassilon somehow back from the dead, and, literally, being spitting mad at the entire universe, these were the ultimate Who baddies. The Doctor’s own people now reduced to monsters every bit as dangerous as their sworn enemies, the Daleks. Timothy Dalton superb, flashbacks to the Time War, the revelation that they had finally gone completely evil and the Doctor had had to destroy them. Meaty stuff.

Murray Gold deserves praise. His music has been phenomenal throughout the RTD era. Beautiful, moving, elegiac. I have loved 99 % of it. I’m not so keen on the comical stuff: bit too whimsical for me, but thankfully he doesn’t use it often. I’m delighted that he is staying on for the Moffat era. He really should be scoring big movie blockbusters by now.

One of the little things I’ll miss about RTD is the vocabulary. It’s not easy to make up alien names. Go on, try it. Pretty embarrassing, huh? RTD has given us Raxacoricofallapatorius. The Mighty Jagrafess of the Holy Hadrojassic Maxarodenfoe. A planet called Woman Wept. Bannakaffalatta. The Vinvocci. (All spellings subject to correction.)

I realise I’m just rambling now but there are a few miscellaneous bits and pieces I want to add and I don’t have the time to structure them perfectly. The idea that the sound of drums The Master has always heard in his head was a sort of homing beacon placed there by the Time Lords themselves. I love timey wimey stuff. Who is the Woman in White? The Doctor’s Mother: really? Interesting, though.

The Matt Smith trailer, bizarrely not shown right at the end of Dr Who itself, looks magnificent. I seem to remember reading a quote of Moffat’s about his tenure being more of a dark fairy tale and these brief moments of scenes seemed to back that up.

The end is indeed just the beginning.

Okay. This is going to be a bit embarrassing. After all I’ve said about Doctor Who and specifically Russell T Davies (RTD) in this blog to date, defending him to the hilt, it’s a bit difficult to confess that, well, I really didn’t like this episode. There. Said it. After 5 years and about 60 episodes I suppose RTD’s chances of coming up with one I didn’t like were increasing but it came as quite a shock. I usually love RTD’s series finales and especially the end of Series 3, which was the last time John Simm guest starred as The Master, in Utopia/The Sound of Drums/Last of the Time Lords. A few fans hated that story feeling The Master was too flippant, that the Doctor being fastfowarded into a Gollum-like creature and then magically de-aging and suddenly possessing magic powers was a bit too far-fetched for this gritty, dark, scientific documentary-like show. To which I said: Bandrils!

I could understand exactly why Russell did what he did, and accepting that some parts of the story are always aimed at younger Who fans I was perfectly happy to accept all of those. I got the emotional thrill of everyone in the world saying the Doctor’s name at the same time and his (year-long, remember) manipulation of the Master’s ArchAngel network transforming the psychic energy into a form the Time Lord could use. All of this was based on things we’ve seen in the past but RTD likes to develop and expand the powers of the Doctor. I’m down with that. Others ain’t. C’est la vie.

So, what was it I didn’t like about this episode? I actually found it quite dull. For once I was clock-watching and wanting them to get on with it. It seemed to be 60-minutes of build-up to THAT cliffhanger and episode 2. I didn’t like The Master becoming cannibalistic and tearing into hamburger and chicken. I didn’t like the way the entire human race became The Master. The head-shaking effect looked silly to me as did Simm in a dress. A number of dresses, to be precise. My wife, however, found this to be funny, and a friend who watched it with me thought it was fast paced, so these are not unarguable points. It seems to be a very localised opinion on my part.

The rest of the episode didn’t bother me. The resurrection scene was ambiguous but again builds on years of precedent of unlikely returns for The Master usually with even less explanation than given here. His super powers were a result of the botched resurrection and RTD has already enlarged the mythology of Time Lord regeneration and the energy they contain within them, so I’m okay with that. Yes, the quiet scene with Wilf and the Doctor in the cafe was touching, and as usual Cribbins was excellent throughout but there just seemed to be something missing somehow. A sense of doom, perhaps? RTD seemed to think that there was an atmosphere to this story but I didn’t feel it as much as I did in Logopolis, for example.

And yes, the cliffhanger was good but surely to be expected? And despite RTD’s claims that this was the biggest episode ending ever, I felt the fake regeneration at the end of The Stolen Earth was bigger. For fanboys, perhaps, the return of the Time Lords would be a bigger deal but for the general public, those few million new fans who only really know about the Time Lords because the Doctor keeps banging on about how he’s the last of them? Would it really be that engaging for them?

I certainly enjoyed the episode more on second viewing and interestingly there were a couple of commentators on the Doctor Who Podshock’s review of the episode who had watched it up to 12 times and found it rewarded repeat viewing very much. I often find this with RTD’s episodes, they’re so densely packed that you can get something new each time you watch them but this has been the first episode that I really didn’t feel like watching again. Suggestions that my expectations were too high seem unlikely as I’ll explain in my forthcoming essay about Hype and how to handle it. Suffice to say I’m used to managing my expectations but perhaps on this occasion I did get over-excited due to my previous love of RTD’s writing and the premise of the story.

Thankfully, the wider audience still seem to be in love with it. Overnight figures of 10 million and an AI score of 87 are still very, very good if slightly disappointing. It will be interesting to see how tonight’s episode, the final, final Tennant episode will fare. I’m still optimistic that this story can redeem itself and even though it’s perhaps my least favourite episode since the show came back in 2005, it was still better than anything else on TV over Christmas.

Except perhaps the Outnumbered Christmas special. Hmm. Should perhaps write something about that. Alas, it’s nearly noon on this, the first day of 2010, Happy New Year, by the way, so it’s time for a rum and coke.

What d’ya mean it’s too early?

This is a difficult review to contextualise. In many ways this really was a special edition of the music comedy quiz panel show and as such an atypical example. Is this really the place to discuss the pros and cons of this series’ guest hosts in relation to the much missed Simon Amstell? Should I just review it purely from a Doctor who point-of-view? And should I now randomly slag off a musician/singer in a sarcastic manner to fit in with the tone of the show?

Well, perhaps not that last one. Biting sarcasm is not what I’m good at. In fact, what I’m good at, as these first 15 blogs will attest to, is still a subject of, to be truthful, almost no debate whatsoever. And that’s not in a good way. But it is usually the USP of this show and it was decidedly missing from this special. Some would say that it has been missing from this season as a whole. Others would say that this is a good thing as Amstell could be unnecessarily cruel. Yet others would say flusha flusha bolgy pink pink and that penguins are actually ninja-trained assassins in disguise. We don’t listen to these people.

I had high hopes for this episode based on, well, initially the fact that it was a Doctor Who special and then having read a few fan comments on the Internet. On the whole these were very positive and seemed to suggest that it was one of the funniest episodes. Perhaps I allowed myself to succumb to the hype effect just a little too much. Unusual, as I normally manage to, well, manage my expectations. It just goes to show that you should never believe anyone’s review or opinion. They’re all wrong. Including me. Especially me, as I find my tastes tend to differ from those of normal folks. Perhaps, as a TV reviewer, I should have mentioned that earlier?

Whatever. I found this to be one of the least funny episodes. It was still watchable, mildly diverting, entertaining to a degree, but not a classic. David Tennant hosted, with Phil Jupitus being joined by (Sir) Bernard Cribbins and DJ and Dr Who fan, Joe Whiley, and on the other team, Noel Fielding was joined by Catherine Tate, who of course played Donna Noble, Bernard’s grand-daughter in the show, and Jamie Cullum. No, me neither.

More than any other edition this was all about the guests. Almost every round had some connection to the Who (not the band, for once, in this context) although sometimes it was quite tenuous and it was unclear how much of a fan either of the captains were. The action did tend to pass them by somewhat and Cribbins and especially Tate are very strong personalities. Cullum seemed bemused by the whole thing, much as I am whenever I hear any of his music. (Ba-doom tish! Waitress. Veal. It’s not much of a catchphrase but it’s all I’ve got.) And that’s about as cruel as I get.

Tennant read out the scripted jokes very well, his best probably being about the evil monster he could never defeat because it kept regenerating just when you thought it was dead. They’re called the Sugababes! And that was about as nasty as Tennant got. He couldn’t even join in with the ritual mocking of Coldplay claiming that he liked them. Deal with it. It made for a particularly cosy episode and maybe that’s no bad thing considering it’s the Christmas edition.

The Doctor Who theme extended to the TARDIS being in the studio and you just knew it was going to come into play at some point. Thankfully, they did avoid the cliché of having it materialise in the studio and have Tennant emerge from it. Instead, amongst a pathetic attempt at dry ice, he popped up from under the desk and quickly sat on his chair, then confirmed that they would edit in his materialisation effect later. A nice dig at the cheap budget of the show. (Buzzcocks, that is, not Who. Grow up, things have changed.) Instead we got an Ood who ‘helped’ Jo Whiley during the Intros round by doing a much worse version of Yazoo’s “Don’t Go” than Bernard and Phil had just done. Unbelievably, some commentators, er, commented, that it was ridiculous that Whiley didn’t recognise it from her team-mates performance and needed the help of the TARDIS! Irony, much! It’s amazing how TV-unliterate some viewers can be, certainly viewers who can be bothered going onto the Internet later to criticise! Surely they understand how TV works, that it was all a set-up? They weren’t going to waste the money they’d spent on getting someone to dress up in that costume were they? I think Ms. Whiley followed her script, perfectly.

As did Catherine a few moments later. She pretended not to recognise Europe’s Final Countdown so that an entire brass band could come out of the TARDIS – yes, they did succumb to that cliché – and play a big band version. Nope, no idea why. Although, based on Catherine’s performance in the show perhaps she really didn’t know it! Those commentators I mentioned earlier were unkind enough to suggest that Catherine had perhaps over-indulged in hospitality but others were quick to mention that she is a teetotaller so it seems she really is that dizzy! How marvellous!

Doctor Who fans agree about nothing but if there’s one thing that they do agree about it’s that Bernard Cribbins is absolutely fantastic. I don’t think I’ve read a single criticism of him and he engenders a lot of warm feelings towards him. Maybe it’s to do with fond childhood memories of Jackanory or the Wombles or it’s just that he’s a fine actor as well as a decent human being but he has this wonderful gift of being able to make people smile. He’s in good form, here, his ad libs being one of the highlights, frequently amusing both Phil and Noel. At one point Noel invites the Cribs to write for The Mighty Boosh such is the surreal nature of his material.

I miss Bill Bailey a lot and I was worried how his absence would affect the show. I don’t know much about Noel and he was quite quiet at first but he has settled down over the weeks and become funnier and funnier. I think he’s been the perfect replacement and where I would have loved to have seen Mitch Benn or Tim Minchin become a regular I’m now perfectly happy. Noel totally won me over a few weeks back when David Walliams was hosting. I think the joke was about what Noel would ban from his comedy tour and Walliams quipped “jokes”. Quite funny considering the style and nature of Boosh comedy. But Noel’s retort of “catchphrases” was brilliant.

Some of the guest hosts, naturally, have been better than others. But there doesn’t seem to be a unanimous favourite to takeover permanently. Frankie Boyle seemed to be popular and his acid tongue would seem to suit the style of the show but would he want to commit long term to another panel show recently having quit Mock The Week? Rhod Gilbert was an early contender and was very funny. His banter with the guests was very good, especially Gabby Logan, and he could take it as well as give it, something Amstell could never do. He always had to get the last quip in although, to be fair, it was usually hilarious. Jack Whitehall is probably the closest match to Simon in style but he’s one of those comedians, like Michael McIntyre, who seem to sharply divide the audience. Is it the posh accent or what?

Perhaps like Have I Got News For You they’ll continue with the rotation, banking on the freshness to keep the franchise going. But last time they did this after Mark Lamarr left they did settle on a permanent host so they may prefer to do that again and it will be interesting to see who emerges as the prime candidate. Tennant was clearly having a ball but his US pilot, Rex Is Not Your Lawyer, along with other acting commitments will surely keep him out of the running.

Anyway, if they did give it to him, eventually, no doubt, we would have the Bandrils in the line-up as opposed to a Dalek like this week! (If you don’t know what Bandrils are – tough!)

Burn Notice, FX, Mondays 10pm

I guess now is as good a time as ever to review Spooks (or [spooks] for the pedantic) as last week’s episode was a cracker. I’m not the biggest fan of this show, it has to be said. I only started watching it a few years back after reading loads of rave reviews, referring to it as the British 24. Luckily, the early series were up on Virgin’s on-demand service and repeats were frequent on the usual repeat channels. I think it was as early as episode two when the shocking event happened. You know: the one with the hot oil. It was so shocking that I’m not even going to refer to it in full but it was genuinely disturbing and made you very quickly aware that this was a show that was prepared to go anywhere and do anything.

It’s pretty much continued in that vein with established characters regularly being killed and replaced. You’re never safe in Spooks and this adds a nervy element to watching this urban thriller. 24 is a close comparison due to the terrorist aspect but the British spies of MI5 are portrayed in a different manner. There is little time for a personal life and when it encroaches on a storyline it will usually tie in to a plot point somewhere down the line.

Nevertheless, with a consistently strong set of characters, brilliantly acted, you do manage to engage with their personalities and care about what happens to them. Luckily, each time a lead character has gone they have been replaced with someone equally good and I can honestly say that there has never been a main character on this show that I was apathetic towards. Some characters I haven’t initially liked, step forward Ros, but again due to good old-fashioned decent acting they’ve managed to win me over. I hated Hermione Norris’s Ros Myers at first but eventually her tough-woman act and biting sarcasm has led me to the stage where I’ll be sorry when she goes.

But like I say, there’s no point getting too attached to the stars of this show. Tom Quinn, as played by Matthew Macfadyen, and Adam Carter (Rupert Penry-Jones) were both fantastic leads but Richard Armitage’s Lucas North, if anything, is even better. When he decides to leave I’ll feel a bit nervous. Perhaps the next lead could be someone utterly ruthless? It would be interesting to see if we, the audience, could warm to someone like that. A male Ros, if you will. Because these characters do have a heart and perhaps this is the least believable part of the show. For all their necessary callous behaviour dictated by the nature of their work these are decent people who ultimately try to do the right thing.

Popular opinion would have it that this series isn’t quite as gripping as the last. I was never that impressed with the last series although I did like Lucas. Again, I think, it was the shock moment where Connie was shown to be the traitor and killed one of her colleagues. It was very well-done but lacked something for me purely because I didn’t like the character of Connie. (Again, note, I admired her, just didn’t like her.) Moments like this linger long in the memory and Spooks always manages to come up with a few of these. This series, so far, the biggest event has been Jo’s death but this was perhaps undermined by the fact that she has clearly been a dead-woman walking for about two-and-a-half years prior to her eventual demise. It almost became a relief when she finally went which is a shame as I loved her character.

Surprisingly we haven’t had a replacement yet. That means we only have two major spies to follow and it does appear to be getting a little short-staffed. We also lost Malcolm this year but, thankfully, he was allowed to retire gracefully and didn’t meet the ignominious fate of his fellow techie, Colin! And, of course, we have had the fabulous Ruth back. Nicola Walker’s performance is pitch perfect and the ‘romance’ with Harry Pearce is surely destined to be consummated. My only worry is that this could be a way of setting up Harry to leave. Peter Firth is the only character to survive throughout the series and while he is a fantastic leader and I would be sorry to see him go some fresh blood might provide a lifeline to the show.

I don’t think it’s exactly tired. That’s not quite the right word, but, inevitably, as in 24, the stories are a bit limited when dealing with threats to national security and we do seem to see some plots being repeated. Last week’s episode is a staple, actually, with MI5 having to protect an asset who is working, reluctantly, on the inside trying not to be discovered. Which was actually the basic plot just the other week, too! But, it had a lot of politics in it, was very well-acted and a lot of fun. So good was Ashley Kumar as a young Muslim, desperate for peace, that I thought they might have been setting him up as Jo’s replacement but considering his scathing views of “liar man” Lucas and their whole approach to the situation it would be quite a twist to see him recruited.   

Past series relied almost exclusively on stand-alone stories but recently the series arch has become de rigueur and the Nightingale plot that has been building up in the background is coming more and more to the fore. The baddies, having vacillated between Russians and assorted Arabic terrorists, and even, sometimes, the Americans, is now settling into some sort of global conspiracy, with capitalism becoming the evil force that is manipulating other countries into committing various attacks. What the end game is I don’t know and it may be that this group becomes a continuing villain.

There’s been plenty action this series with loads of car chases, explosions, bombs, and lots for the stuntmen to do. The political intrigue has been well delivered with the recent removal of the recurring Home Secretary, played by the wonderful Robert Glenister (Ash in Hustle.) Hopefully, his character will have some sort of swan song because he’s too good to leave this meekly. It’s beautifully shot and always looks good, with fantastic skyline views of London and it has a cracking theme. Relatively unimportant in the wide scheme of things but a blessing nevertheless.

Everything from the title sequence credits to scenes so fast-paced you think you’ve missed a bit are stripped down to the bone. There are no named credits for the actors in this show, the writers and directors anonymous unless you look them up in the Radio Times or online. The stylistic fade to negative that ends each episode is a bleak summary of the nature of [spooks]; everything, including life, is temporary and there’s no time to waste.

Burn Notice  

FX, Mondays, 9pm

Speaking of spies this is also a good time to mention this little gem of a show, which I presume you are already ignoring along with the rest of the nation. This is very different from 24 or Spooks in that it’s not about homeland security but rather about one individual former spy. It’s actually more along the likes of shows such as The A-Team or The Equalizer in that its hero will take on a variety of missions on behalf of unfortunate ‘normal’ people, like me and you, who have fallen foul of the criminal element of society.

Michael Weston (engagingly played by Jeffrey Donovan) was a spy for the CIA, undergoing a number of covert missions on foreign soil. Until he was “burned”. This means, essentially, that he’s been grounded, as well as having been made persona non grata. He has no money and no home. He has no job and limited means of living a normal life as he has to remain secretive so that past scores cannot be settled upon him. He is surveilled so that he cannot leave the city in which he has been dumped, which happens to be Miami. Presumably, this is because it’s where his Mom lives (a classic annoying mother performance from Chris Cagney herself, Sharon Gless) and where Michael grew up.

Miami is a fantastic setting for a show as Dexter and CSI: Miami have shown in recent years. Miami always seems to get a bum rap as the sort of place where loads of oldies go to retire. But with that weather, and the ocean, beautiful scenery and buildings everywhere, surely it can’t be that bad? Or is that all just TV glamour, edited to look pretty? Certainly you have to put up with serial killers and cops who remove their sunglasses and tilt their heads all the time but it’s swings and roundabouts.

Weston has to try and establish some sort of life for himself and the early episodes set this up with his warehouse-penthouse apartment. He hooks up with former girlfriend, Fiona, dodgily (is that a word?) a former IRA member with a thing about guns and explosions and annoying Michael. Hmmm. UST much? She’s played by Gabrielle Anwar, who those among you with good taste will recognise as one of the kids of the first series of Press Gang, the first series written and created by Steven Moffat. One of the funniest shows ever. Fact. Anwar is feisty and fun, but has the worst Irish accent this side of David Boreanaz.

He also hooks up with former spy Sam, and this is where the show gets really cool. Sam is played by Bruce Campbell. Yep, The Evil Dead star himself! I don’t think it gets cooler than Bruce’s delivery. It would be worth watching for him alone but thankfully, the leading man is just as engaging. Weston is confident, good looking and knows how to look after himself. This could easily have become a vain, unlikeable character but Donovan’s exasperated expressions as things inevitably go wrong are a delight. Oh, and don’t touch his yoghurt!

There is usually a story of the week as Michael works as a ‘consultant’ to try to bring justice to some unfortunate victim. Many of these are good causes and his kind nature, despite his tough exterior, often gets the better of him. Essentially, he is facing down the bullies of society and teaching them a lesson. Not literally. Don’t make the mistake of thinking this is all goody-goody. There are some nasty, unpleasant people in this show and they often get a proper put-down. Weston won’t kill but he uses his experience as a spy to coerce, con and kick the crap out of the Miami lowlifes that he has to deal with.

The backdrop for all this, and becoming a bigger part of the picture as the series progresses, is the reason why Michael has been burned. There is an ongoing mission to discover who has done this to him and why. It presents a nice dichotomy as he dishes out punishment to everyday bullies around him but he himself is under the thumb of a huge organisation for no logical reason and his frustration creeps through now and again. There is a dark side to Michael Weston that is hinted at and perhaps more secrets to be revealed.

Voiceovers are USUALLY NOT A GOOD THING, but here it works perfectly. The narration that accompanies the action is Michael explaining why spies do things certain ways, how to go undercover, or tail someone, or use a handful of household chemicals to make a nuclear device. Well, maybe not the last one but it is all a bit McGyverish. The way he talks about which gun to use and why is so down-to-earth as if he’s passing on a few gardening tips. And they all make sense. If I ever decide to become a spy I’ll almost certainly use these.      

Quite simply, this is one of the most entertaining shows out there. It goes about its business, quietly, week after week, providing engaging characters, well-structured plots, plenty of action and humour. And the satisfying feeling that comes from loving it when a plan comes together. There is nothing earth-shattering about Burn Notice, it is not a game changer but it is a very well put together show. You know that Plan A will go wrong and that there will be complications and more and more danger until Michael succeeds at the end and all is well with the world. But you just don’t care because it is done so effortlessly and with such style. It somehow manages to remind me of both Hustle and Ocean’s 11, with its slick looks, humorous tone and intricate plots.

It’s as cool as a Mint Mojito at a Miami poolside. With an umbrella in it.

This should really be a guilty pleasure because I in no way fall into the category of target audience for this programme, I am sure, but as I feel no guilt or shame for watching it, because it’s so good, I can’t categorise it as such. (I do feel a little bit ashamed for watching Desperate Housewives but it’s not on air in the UK just now so that will have to wait. Please contain your excitement.)

Medium stars Patricia Arquette as Allison DuBois, a woman cursed or blessed depending on your viewpoint with the ability to communicate with the dead. Now this communication varies wildly, usually depending on the necessity of the plot. Your common regular mediumship is through her dreams. Inevitably, the teaser at the beginning of the show will be a dream sequence containing some shocking and usually gruesome revelation. Cut to: Allison gasping and sitting up as she wakes in bed, usually disturbing her long-suffering husband, Joe, as she does so. Further dream will occur throughout the episode, each time revealing just a little bit more about the crime and narrowing down on the identity of the killer.

These dreams are in some way meant to be from the dead, so usually the victim of the week’s murder, but while they show admiring initiative in tracking down the sensitive Mrs DuBois they remain startlingly aware of the remaining running time and seem unable to just tell her, plain and simple, who killed them, why, and where the evidence is. To be fair to them, being dead is a bit of a handicap and who are we to criticise their methods of delivering information.

Okay, so all this is very tongue-in-cheek. There is an inbuilt ludicrousness about the set-up that may well hinder you from enjoying it. But if you’re a fan of this genre and can accept the conditions then you should get a lot of pleasure out of it. And it does know how silly it is a lot of the time. Some episodes are out-and-out comedies and these contrast well with the more sombre, gory episodes.

Allison can also get visions just from touching or being near a person or by looking at their photograph or holding an item formerly possessed by them. There’s no clear indication how this ties in to the dead people thing but just go with it, okay. Her third method, and easily the most helpful, is where the dead person just shows up, usually in her home, and chats to her like a normal person. This is rare, probably because the crimes would be solved too quickly if this happened each time. Some of the revelations in her dreams are bizarrely vague but it keeps the viewer guessing and if you can guess the twist of the episode it makes you feel quite smart.

All this could be seen to be denigrating the show but nothing could be further from the truth. I absolutely love it and have done since the very first episode. While some of the patterns have become a bit formulaic and repetitive by the very nature of the show, the writers can still come up with some neat variations and the early episodes especially were clever at coming up with new ideas.

The format of the show demands that Allison works for the District Attorney so she can use her skills to catch the bad guys. She works closely with D.A. Manny Devalos (Miguel Sandoval) and Detective Lee Scanlon (David Cubitt). Despite her always being right they still act suspicious of her when she comes up with really incredulous information often waiting until the final act before confirming she was right. Thankfully, the performances are so warm that you forgive them.

The other main strand of the show is Allison’s home life. Married to Joe, an engineer, she has three daughters and as fans will attest this is as important a part of the show as the crime element. As the family has grown over the six seasons it has been on air, we have been given tantalising glimpses that each of the young DuBois girls has inherited their mother’s gift, making life at home and especially at school all the more interesting. Before the kids’ visions kicked in, though, it was the mundanity of the family life contrasted with the horror that drew many viewers in. This was like a normal family and not a television one. They actually spoke and acted like a real family. And Maria Lark as the middle daughter, Bridgette, is just one of the funniest things on TV. Her natural delivery and facial expressions are to be treasured. It’s fascinating to watch the children grow up and become a bigger part of the show. As their powers develop perhaps they could be given their own spin-off show? It could be called Small, Medium and Large!

Ba-doom tish! I thank you. Please try the waitress and remember to tip your veal.

So, anyway, as we were saying, the acting is superb. Patricia Arquette has been nominated several times for Best Actress Emmys and Golden Globes and has won once if I recall. I like PA but it took me a while before I warmed to her character on this show. It took me some time to realise that she was deliberately underplaying it so as not to glamorise it and now I love this strong, dignified woman who always puts her family first. Ironically, in a possible first for Hollywood, the real Allison DuBois, on which this series is based, is actually more glamorous than the acted version, based on what little of her I’ve seen.

What’s that? Oh, yes. This is based on a real person. Did I forget to mention that? There is a real psychic/medium called Allison DuBois based in Phoenix, Arizona. She really does work with the police department and claims to be able to tell you when you’re going to die. Now, this could be a problem for some. I know it was for me. I don’t believe in this person’s ability to speak to the dead. I don’t know how successful her record is but she does seem to be very genuine in her beliefs. There are books written both by and about her and I’m definitely planning on getting  my hands on them, especially the sceptical ones, to try and get a better handle on the truth of these extraordinary claims.

But none of this bothers me while I watch this fictional show. I love Supernatural but I don’t believe the portrayal there of angels, demons and the devil are necessarily all that accurate. Equally, I think a lot of the science in Doctor Who is a stretch and Spooks may not be a fair representation of how spies operate in this country. If any of this is a problem to you then I suggest you stick to watching documentaries. They’re never faked.

So, back to the acting after your rather rude interruption. The relationship between Allison and her husband is the glue that holds the show together. These characters are so believable and this offsets the (super-)nature of the show perfectly. Jake Weber is fantastic as Joe. Supportive of his wife and kids but exasperated at all the extra baggage that these powers come with, Joe also has to deal with the normal pressures of being a husband and father, and the effects that all these have on his job(s). This role could have been so superficial if it wasn’t so well-written and acted.

 This latest episode, Season 5 Episode 16: The Man in the Mirror, was one of the oddball, quirky episodes with extra helpings of comedy. It may not have been to everyone’s taste but I loved it, especially as it guest starred Jeffrey Tambor, one of my favourite actors. You might remember him from Arrested Development or as Hank in The Larry Sanders Show. Here he plays a potential murder victim whose consciousness is somehow transferred into the body of Allison DuBois, and vice versa. So he is, essentially, playing Allison in this episode. It’s a very difficult thing for a male actor to do without camping it up but Tambor is superb, subtle and restrained and effortlessly capturing the essence of Arquette’s performance. All this while mostly wearing a hospital gown and being attached to an IV feed!

This season, and I realise this is one of the shows where we’re considerably behind the original States run, the writers seem to be trying to take more risks and freshen it up. This is always a dangerous time for a series. You need to stick to the formula to some extent because that’s what the loyal audience wants but if you don’t change it up a little then they’ll get bored and numbers watching will dwindle. Go too far, though, and you’ll jump the shark. It’s a delicate balancing act but I think the production team are managing to achieve a happy medium.  

Ba-doom tish! Thank you. Waitress. Veal.

BBC1, Fridays, 9pm (ish), Extended Repeat on BBC2, Saturdays

Okay, so am I the only one that was shocked by last week’s show? Dominic West, tough guy Jimmy McNulty from The Wire, has a natural accent so posh it makes the Royal Family sound like members of N-Dubz? Actually, I did know this having heard him interviewed before but I bet it was a shock to many viewers used to his gruff American tones. I always knew he was English but I never suspected he was THAT English!

HIGNFY (work it out) has been going for years and years (I think they’re on Series 38 or something.). Originally presented by Angus Deayton, it has now been using guest hosts for about seven years. Some of these are naturals (Alexander Armstrong, Jack Dee), some are brilliant one-offs (Bruce Forsyth, Brian Blessed) but not suitable to a regular gig. A very few (Gordon Ramsay) have been dismal and I think it’s fair to say that Dominic was somewhere in the middle. Nervous at first he soon settled down but he didn’t seem capable of relaxing too much or improvising. But he read the autocue beautifully. An awkward appearance overall.

This was a good, solid edition of the show if perhaps lacking any great highlights. Ian Hislop was on form but his guest, Reginald D Hunter, was in one of his more subdued moods. This is a shame as he was really funny, as usual, when he did speak up. Top Gear’s James May partnered Paul Merton and was effortlessly good value for money. In fact it was quite a battle, if that’s the right word, to see which of the guests was the most laid-back.

Hislop’s political mockery remains the best bit of the show, for me. He’s become a master of sarcasm over the years and is frightened of nobody. The best editions are where he has a real political enemy opposite him, such as Piers Morgan. He’s equally at home with likeable people like May, however, and always prepared to give the guests room to shine.

Merton is the master of improvisation and surreal comedy. There have been a couple of episodes this series where he has looked distinctly bored, though, and has contributed little. Maybe he’s getting to that stage where he needs to take a break again as he has done once previously. That may be enough to recharge his batteries. There have been signs of life, though, when he’s partnered with the right guest, such as Ross Noble, and perhaps it’s just a matter of taking more care on bookings? If he did quit the show permanently, however, it would be interesting to see who they would replace him with and if the show could survive without him as it has done without Angus.

I don’t know if the guest presenter gimmick was always intended to be the new format or if there ever were any real hopes of finding a replacement for Angus. It’s a difficult choice to make. The freshness of a new host can be invigorating but you never know what you’re going to get. There must be a temptation to give it to one of the competent, regular hosts such as Armstrong but perhaps the producers are scared it will get stale.

Every new series is greeted with fans crying that it’s not as good as it used to be. I think that’s a fair point. If you watch one of the older shows repeated on Dave or one of the compilation DVDs there definitely seems to be a little more energy there, a bit more edge, more danger. But that may just be a sign of the times as much as anything and I don’t mind it feeling comfortable. Some shows are better than others but I always find the 30-minutes entertaining and, in fact, I usually watch the extended edition on BBC2 on Saturday evenings, which stretches to 40-odd minutes.

At any rate, the recent British Comedy Awards selected it as the best comedy panel show, beating out Mock The Week and QI, and the ratings are still holding up, so somebody out there is still watching it and enjoying it. I’m one of them.

If you saw the above title and immediately shouted out “just coming” as an automatic, almost involuntary response, then you’re one of us – an Adam and Joe fan: A thing of great beauty and wisdom. You will enjoy reading this. If you didn’t think that but instead either thought I was mad or shouting on you because your name is Stephen, then you really need to read this.

Adam “Count Buckulees” Buxton and Joe “Cornballs” Cornish (other nicknames are available) are the presenters of their self-titled radio show on BBC 6 Music. They broadcast a mix of cool music and comedic chat (I could be wrong about the cool music, a) because I’m not cool and b) because I don’t listen to the live show) intermixed with audience interactivity on Saturday mornings (and since last week, early afternoons – well, you have to push through the noon barrier at some point in your life) and the ‘so-called highlights’ (a quote from one of the show’s jingles not a putdown) of the show are condensed into a juicy little package, usually 50 minutes to an hour long, and are available to download as a podcast every week.

Out of all my current little shots of joy this is, perhaps, my absolute favourite. I actually feel physical pain, a little tug of anxiety, when I try to download the podcast on a Monday evening and it’s not there yet. I think I’ve actually become addicted to this show and suffer withdrawal symptoms when I can’t get my fix. But, in many ways, The Adam and Joe Show is much better than heroine or crack cocaine.

You may be wondering who Adam and Joe are (I know I certainly am). The names may be vaguely familiar, although, to be fair, that may just be because you happen to know someone called either Adam or Joe. (It could happen.) This is not them. Well, it may be, but that would be quite a coincidence, wouldn’t it?! It’s probably not so let’s just move on, okay? They had a TV show years and years ago on Channel 4 and very funny it was too.

They then disappeared off the TV horizon for a bit in a similar manner to Stewart Lee and Richard Herring. Somewhere along the line they were asked to do a show for XFM and this built up a cult following until they made the move to the Big British Castle (BBC). I seem to remember them occasionally appearing as a vox pop on some of these Greatest 50 TV Squirrels of the ’90s or something, the difference being that their contributions were always relevant and fun.

Their humour is quite hard to describe. It’s very, very silly. Oh, actually, that wasn’t difficult at all. Adam and Joe have been chums since school and their sometimes childish, sometimes surreal comedy ramblings are a bit like being down the pub with your oldest mates. The difference being, again, that they are funny in a way that translates to a broader audience. Their shared cultural references are also shared by much of the audience and Adam’s love of TV and Joe’s love of films is a constant source of material, as is their shared love of David Bowie.

You do need to hang out for a few weeks so you can pick up on the running gags and in-jokes but if you find their deliberate mispronunciation of words and creative creation of new ones amusing then you’ll be hooked quite quickly, I predict, and soon begin to catch-up.

As a starter guide I’ll point out a few things to expect when listening to their podcast just to get you up-to-speed. You’ll no doubt hear mention of Black Squadron, a reference to the live listeners on Saturday morning who are set various tasks each week but I’m lazy and rarely listen to the live broadcast. I think I might be a member of Slack Squadron but I haven’t picked up on everything yet. Right at the start of the podcast you’ll get an intro from the boys including the singing of their names along to a particular TV or movie theme. It could be ET or Thunderbirds. You just never know. Funnier than it sounds.

Each week there’ll be a Text the Nation segment where a topic is set and listeners have to text (or email, it doesn’t matter) in examples. These are often quite complicated to set up such as misappropriated street furniture, or family arguments when playing games. Some are so successful that they become a feature in their own right. Self-authored jokes was one of these. They don’t have to be bad, but inevitably are, so long as they are jokes made up by the listener. Quite often torturous, or should that be tortuous (no, either works), many of these have been attributed to actual comedians. Famously, Josie Long rang in about a Quidditch joke she had had to stop using in her routine because the audience were accusing her of ripping it off from Adam and Joe! I like this because I once saw Josie Long in her University days at the Edinburgh Fringe doing a Marx Brothers show. She actually brought the audience into the theatre, in character, and joked with me as I was first in the queue. THIS PRACTICALLY MAKES ME FAMOUS. (Said in an Adam shouty voice.) Although why they didn’t read out my spinach ink quiz injun’ joke, I’ll never know…

Not everyone listens to the live show, as I think we’ve established, so they introduced Retro Text the Nation whereby the previous week’s topic is left open for people who listen to the podcast so they have a chance to text/email in and these are read out during the following week’s show. This segment has the best jingle EVER and will resonate in your head like a catchy comedy bullet.

There are many jingles scattered throughout the show and they’re exceptionally good. Both Adam and Joe are talented musicians. Well, I say musicians, but they just mess about with Garageband. Their real talent is in the lyrics that accompany the beats and bops and make us laugh. This talent is expressed more fully in Song Wars, where both presenters have to write a song based on a set topic and then the listeners can vote on their favourite. This is becoming less common, unfortunately, but they must be hard to do. Older, classic, examples, such as Sontum of Quolace and Dirty Robots were available on their blog on the BBC for a while. Don’t know if they’re still there but check them out if they are or give me a shout, and I’ll see you alright. (Legal Disclaimer: This only applies to readers who I know PERSONALLY and live in Edinburgh.) My favourite is Joe’s cautionary song about musical piracy, which is hilarious. (The song, not piracy. Very tongue-in-cheek but relevant as well.) Reading that sentence back makes me think of The Pirates of Penzance rather than illegal downloading, but hey-ho.

For some time the biggest controversy on The Adam and Joe Show was whether it should be the word ‘bin’ or the word ‘trash’ that should be used in the Retro Text the Nation jingle but this has been overshadowed in recent weeks by the Boggins issue. Boggins is a very sweet, but equally disgusting, smelly dog with an anal gland problem, who rolls in poo, and makes doggy noises into the mike that some claim sound like actual words. The mangy dog hangs around the studio and occasionally manages to get into the studio, usually when Adam goes for a toilet break, leading to the completely foundationless accusation that Boggins is just Adam doing a ‘funny’ voice. Ludicrous. The dog is so disgusting that many listeners have threatened to stop listening unless the dog is killed. And I don’t mean ‘put down’ – I mean killed. Now, at this point, I should mention that this is a fictional dog and that has been made clear on the show. However, I don’t think this affects the issues surrounding this question. Boggins is very sweet and I think a very funny conceit and should be allowed to live. I mean Wogan is old, smelly, annoying and talks a load of rubbish but they’re not getting rid of him from the radio are they?

What’s that? Oh.

So, if you like laughing, if you’re a fan of laughing, or have ever laughed, then this show is worth checking out. It may be that you think it’s a load of rubbish but you’re wrong. (See my blog about the Taste Test.)

And that’s the end of this week’s blogcast. 

(Oh, nearly forgot. Stephen! is a call and response thing to recognise fellow listeners to the show. Try it. Shout out Stephen! in a crowd and if you get the response, “Just coming!” then you know you’ve found a soulmate. It’s called Stephenage. Obviously.)

As one of my two (count ‘em) dedicated readers (Facebook is a wonderful thing) has pointed out, my latest couple of blogs seem to mark me out as turning into a grumpy old man. A statement to which I very much object. I was born a grumpy old man and the reason it is becoming more noticeable in these blogs is because of my recent re-acquaintance with said friend! (That’s him told.)

Anyway, it has not been my intention to drift form the main impetus of this blog by failing to review recent TV episodes but there’s a simple reason for this: I’m too busy to watch any, just now. I’m falling behind with House, Spooks, Medium, Paradox, Life on Mars USA, all things I wanted to chat about. What I have managed to keep up with, barely, is the football.

Now, my team are Hibernian, commonly known as Hibs, or HibsNil. This blog is about things that make me happy, so the chances of Hibs ever appearing in it were quite remote. However, our good start to the season has continued and so they definitely deserve an appearance here. These days they provide a vicarious shot of joy as I no longer go to the games. There are many reasons for stopping going to the footie. Rising ticket prices in a recession, the lack of competition and entertainment in the current game, devaluation due to corporate manipulation and the loss of purity ensuing there from. All good and valid reasons. But in my case it’s because I got too fat to fit through the turnstiles.

This makes me no less a fan. I’m a fan because it hurts. When you get that sick, twisted feeling in your gut because you’re so close to success. Or the incoherent rage you feel when they inevitably throw it away in the last minute. Those extremes of emotion tell you you’re a fan. I’ve been a Hibs fan all my life and I can count the little shots of joy they’ve given me on the fingers of one hand. The LFFs (see Blog #10), on the other hand, directly attributable to Hibs are never-ending. Until now…

The facts are these: Hibs are 3rd in the League, level on points with Rangers and only two points off the leaders, Celtic. We have gone 10 games unbeaten. We have won more home games than any other team. We have, I believe, the joint-best defensive record, conceding just 9 goals in 14 games. Another ridiculous statistic: we have conceded just one goal in the second-half of any league game this season. These may well be signs of the apocalypse, we’ll just have to wait and see but for the moment, I’m trying to enjoy it. As far as Hibs fans are concerned this is fantasy football. We usually manage to self-implode but they’re part of my DNA so I’m stuck with them.

My English team is Man City. Supporting them is never dull but since we became the richest club in the world it’s just got really ridiculous. Still not sure Mark Hughes is the man but results like that against Chelsea still give me hope. I’d be delighted with 4th this season with a real assault on the title to come next season. Watching the English games does make the Scottish stuff look poor, though. Rarely have the Old Firm looked so vulnerable and I can’t see them ever going down to England. On current form they’d struggle to get out of the Championship. Speaking of which, good to see Newcastle bouncing back and I also have a soft spot for Nottingham Forest so well done to Billy Davies and I hope they get automatic promotion as well. I like following this league because so many ex-Hibs players are there. So good luck Rob Jones at Scunthorpe, Dean Shiels at Doncaster and Ivan Sproule at Bristol City.

I’d be happy to see any of them back at Easter Road. At least they can still fit through the gates…

Aha! There it is! The snide comment, thrown in to ridicule someone else’s opinion, even where this is clearly a matter of taste. Why do we do this? And, more importantly, why am I talking about it? Well, it’s a little bugbear of mine. (I warned you earlier that I was planning some essays and this is one of them. Feel free to skip over to one of my TV reviews and make fun of me, there.)

We all have opinions. Based on my extensive viewing of the Internet, some of us manage to hold two, or more, contradictory views about one particular subject at the same time. Never before has the world had the freedom to express its opinions so easily and so recklessly. Generally, of course, that’s a good thing. We no longer have to rely on received wisdom from so-called, possibly self-declared, experts. Now we can all be those ‘experts’ and tell everyone else why they are wrong and we are right.

Even that I wouldn’t mind so much. Reasoned debate is not to be feared and can be enlightening and entertaining. Unfortunately, we see little of that on the ‘Net. Now, I realise I’m opening myself to criticism here. Why am I any different? What makes my views any more important than anyone else’s? Well, it’s a fair point. Am I cleverer than the lot of you reading this? Possibly, but almost certainly not. I’m probably smarter than some of you and stupider than a lot of you. But you see, one thing I’ve got is humility. In fact, I’m the humblest person I know.

(I actually knew someone who said that about themselves and completely believed it!) Egos are like opinions, everyone has them. In my case I’m self-aware enough, I believe, to recognise that the earth doesn’t revolve around me. (Although, to be fair, I am actually big enough for this to be a physical possibility.) I like to express my opinions and often enjoy arguing about such ephemeral matters as television, music, books, politics, the arts, religion and, perhaps dearest to my heart, chocolate biscuits. This is fun. We can mock each other affectionately and realise that it doesn’t really matter. But, occasionally, it does.

On the Internet it often appears to matter more than anything else on the planet. I’m a Doctor Who fan and frequent a popular forum famed among fans as probably the number one Doctor Who website. If you’re a fan, you probably know the name of it and are probably a member, there. (If you are, I’m known as phantom, drop me a pm. I don’t post much but only because of the reasons that I am trying to illuminate here. I’m sure you’re lovely.) A lot of the time I can’t post there because I know I’d receive an automatic ban. There is a small, but very vocal, minority of fans there who are just nuts. They seem to think that because they’re hiding behind some anonymous username or amusing avatar that it’s okay to completely dispense with such everyday things as manners, politeness and human decency. And somehow they can manage to do that while seemingly remaining within the rules of these types of site regarding abusive behaviour.

They’re not even clever. There’s no Charlie Brooker-like rage infused with wit and sarcasm raised to an art form. They just don’t like stuff and are unable to appreciate why anyone else could disagree with them. They state their opinion as fact. When other people use actual real facts against them they display some form of what I can only describe as ostrich-head-in-the-sand syndrome. Or it could just be that they’re a bit thick.

Inevitably, they come up with the same old tropes and clichés. When reasonable, i.e. sane fans argue that millions of viewers agree with them the trolls manqué (I’m horrible at French so that may make no sense, but you get the idea) respond either by criticising the method of how TV ratings are calculated, quite spectacularly missing the point of how statistics work, or just argue that millions of people watch The X-Factor and they’re all wrong. (Okay, it’s hard to argue with that point. No, no, I’m doing it again. Being Barry Glibb just because I happen to agree with that particular opinion. The fact that I can’t understand why any reasonable human being could possibly watch that amateur, manipulated and manipulating pile of Cowell-poo and glean any enjoyment from it whatsoever doesn’t give me the right to be superior about it. I can accept the fact that the ratings clearly show that many people do appreciate it in a way that I will never grasp. And that’s okay.)

They make glib statements like RTD can’t write plots. Or, indeed, just can’t write. He’s a lazy writer. He uses ‘deus ex machina’ all the time.

When you get into a debate with these people it quickly emerges that they do not actually understand many of the terms they use. This makes it almost impossible to argue with them and frustration can build.

I used to be that type of person – up to a point. I don’t like Shakespeare. For years I defended my point of view by arguing that he was “overrated” – another overused cliché – in other words, I was right and everybody was wrong. I don’t know when it was that it suddenly clicked for me; I just became aware that the evidence was against me in that vast numbers of literati lauded his works and actors worshipped at his shrine. That didn’t mean I was wrong or that I had to change my view. Just that I had to accept that it was a matter of taste.

I best heard this voiced by Scottish comedian and actor, Billy Connolly. He was being interviewed by his wife, Pamela Stephenson, a qualified therapist, and it was an in-depth conversation in which Connolly offered up many dark insights into his soul. What took my attention though was early on in the interview when he talked about good and bad in reference to the quality of work in art and entertainment. It was all about whether you ‘got it’ or not. Simples. It doesn’t matter how wonderful people think a particular artist is if you just don’t get it then accept it, accept that they do get it, and move on. Don’t waste your time arguing over it. and don’t feel pressured to comply.

This is exactly the conclusion I came to some time ago but could never quite vocalise it so succinctly. It is possible to ‘get’ something after listening to it for a period of time. I used to listen almost exclusively to pop and rock music and wouldn’t give the time of day to (real) country or to folk. A friend compiled a CD for me and for the first few listens I was appalled. This wasn’t real music. It was too slow, too fragile. Where was the screaming guitar? I literally didn’t know how to listen to this type of music because it was so far out of my comfort zone.

But one track kind of nagged at me. The vocals sounded ludicrous to me at first but there was something about it. Something intriguing. And eventually I got it. It was like an acquired taste. It was impossible to articulate how it wormed itself into me and transformed my ability to listen; I just had to accept the fact that it had. The artist was Iris DeMent and the song was “Our Town”. Check it out and listen to it over and over. From there I got into Kate and Anna McGarrigle and Emmylou Harris. This later evolved into a liking for Rufus Wainwright and Jeff Buckley, for which I am eternally grateful. Once the door is opened and you find your way into a different type of music there is a treasure trove of wonderful new music to be discovered.

I still haven’t found my way into reggae. Even Bob Marley, who I can appreciate, doesn’t manage to engage my senses. But that may happen when I hear the right song. I can’t ever see me getting into rap but never say never. It took me into my early thirties before I ‘got’ Dylan and Springsteen and now I love them. The Beatles I still don’t understand and I don’t like. But I can appreciate their influence on a number of musicians I admire and that is sufficient for me to respect them even if I can’t bring myself to love them.

Sometimes you just don’t get it, but if you understand that, you can understand why others do. So much of this is subjective. It’s okay to have our individual tastes when it comes to food and drink. We don’t tend to criticise someone for liking or disliking something contrary to our own tastes. But often we don’t apply this same logic to the arts. Why can’t some people see this? Do they feel threatened because they seem out of step with many of their peers? Do they want to be seen as cool? (They’re not cool just because they are different. Especially if their attitude is confrontational and obnoxious.) Are they just not mature enough?

It should be easy to say, “Look, I know RTD is a well-respected writer in the TV industry. He’s won lots of awards and clearly, from his enthusiasm, loves the show and wants it to succeed. But, personally, I don’t like his type of Doctor Who. I am glad he has brought it back and am pleased that it is a huge success ensuring that the concept will live on indefinitely and that when someone takes over, just as in the old days, it will evolve and it may suit my tastes better. Although I don’t get his emphasis on character I accept that it is not “soap opera” when he talks about relationships but “drama”. I have had it explained to me that his endings are not ‘deus ex machina’. They’re just less plot-based and depend more on the emotional reactions of the characters and the choices they have to make. I also understand that he works very hard and just because I disagree with some of the choices he has made that does not mean he is lazy. He is a respected television professional who has written several popular and award-winning programmes. And I’m not.”

Is it so difficult for them to admit this? It doesn’t make their opinion worth any less but it shows understanding of what an opinion is and acceptance of the fact that human beings differ. Arrogance and ignorance so often go hand-in-hand and this makes it difficult to argue with these people. Their argument will be that those who love RTD and his approach overreact to the slightest criticism and rush to defend him, completely overlooking the many threads where people have calmly and rationally discussed their personal perceived weaknesses of Russell’s work with fans who calmly and rationally have disagreed. It is possible to debate these points if you are polite and considerate to an opposing viewpoint.

Just think about a food that you violently love or hate: would you argue so much, so vehemently, against someone who thought the opposite? Take the taste test and make sure that your viewpoints are well-balanced so that your daily diet of debate is healthy and nutritious.

Sometimes, there’s no-one to complain to and the only way you can express yourself is to howl at the world in a rage of anger, frustration and hopelessness. I think this happens more often if you live in Scotland but that’s only a theory.

Today’s LFF? Sainsbury’s. It could be Asda, it could be Morrisons, it could be Tesco: they’re all the same – RUBBISH! Really, we’re in a recession, businesses are closing all over the shop, Borders, the bookstore, just went into administration, and yet they continue to treat customers like mangy sardines well past their sell-by dates.

To contextualise: Where I work we have a large workforce – about 850 in the one building. Our catering providers also went into administration recently so at very short notice our canteen was bare. Understandably, it takes time to set up a tender process for a new outfit to come in and take over. We have had to adjust. With not a lot of local food outlets most staff are bringing in their own food and thankfully we have fridges in which to store them. So, last Friday morning, I went into Sainsbury’s to get some provisions for my work-day. I’m quite fussy, as I’m sure my friends and family would happily testify, so the fact that I could find a handful of suitable supplies was quite the bonus.

However, everything went quickly downhill. I give you one word, ladies and gentlemen. Checkouts. It was about 9 in the morning, the store had been open about an hour, there were quite a few people shopping and there WAS ONLY ONE CHECKOUT OPEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You’re smart people, and in a world of war, famine, depression and abuse I’m sure you’ll agree my outrage was entirely justified. Nobody at the fewer-than-10 items or ‘baskets only’ checkout, whatever they are called there, just one measly normal checkout at the far end of the store. And just as I headed for it, with only two customers there, one basket each, a woman with a provisions-laden trolley, including a baby, although I think she brought that with her, I don’t think she got it in-store, raced in front of me. She could see I only held a handful of items but she started the time-consuming task of transporting the Aladdin’s cave of food and cleaning products onto the belt of the checkout, clearly marking out to me: you ain’t gettin’ in front of me, sucker! (I don’t know why I imagined her speaking in that particular patois – she looked decidedly middle-class – but it was no doubt a sign of my frustration).

Of course, what she didn’t know, and neither do you, until now, is that my wife was waiting outside for me in the car. She was going to drop me off but was under the time constraint of having a hospital appointment at 9:30. And the hospital was at least 15 minutes away from my work, which was 5 minutes away from the store. With a look at my watch and an anguished exclamation sounding somewhere between a chicken laying an egg and a Wookie in heat, I realised I didn’t have enough time to wait and threw down my shopping on the nearest, unmanned, checkout and hurried out the store.

As I left I passed a couple of members of staff chatting away, happily. Why weren’t they operating a checkout? I’ve never been in that store before without noticing that the basket-only checkout always had someone there. What’s the point of opening the store if you haven’t got enough staff in to cope? (I could rant about McDonalds here, but it’s an even more complicated situation and infinitely more boring.)

I’m sure you’ll agree, this is almost definitely one of the signs of the Apocalypse. Rising prices, poorer customer services, limited availability of produce, all these things are making our shopping experience at supermarkets worse. The tragedy that happened to me could happen to any one of us. In isolation it may seem to be relatively unimportant but a combination of any of these LFFs can quickly lead to dissatisfaction, disillusionment and, ultimately, even disgruntlement. Your circumstances may vary and cause you to cope better with such pressures but why take that risk? Inoculate yourself as soon as possible with as many little shots of joy as you can comfortably cope with.

I’ll continue to share some of mine but feel free to share yours. It seems almost rude to keep them to yourself.