Tinkerty-tonk, dearest bloggerisationisms readers and welcome you are, old fruits. to the latest From The North update in the area, like. It's going to be a right proper good'un, so it is. Hopefully.
Sound engineer the late Geoff Emerick, who won two GRAMMY awards for his work with The Be-Atles, took the statue home after the recording and it took pride of place in his - somewhat overgrown - garden in Hornsey for the next forty five years. It was put into storage when Emerick moved to the United States where he later died in 2018, aged seventy two.
He had particularly close links with Sir Paul as he was appointed to oversee the building of Apple Studios in Savile Row in 1969 and then won another GRAMMY for his work on the Wings LP, Band on the Run. Other prized personal items released by Emerick's estate, including original plan documents for the conversion of Apple Studios, will feature in the sale along with Beatles memorabilia. News of which, needless to say, saw most long-term fans of The Be-Atles (a popular beat combo of the 1960s, you might've heard of them) getting their considerable knickers in a considerable twist (as illustrated below).
The climax of the recent Olympics was covered in the previous From The North bloggerisationism update - and very nice it was too - but a couple additions deserve highlighting. BBC Sports editor Dan Roan's excellent think-piece Tokyo Olympics: Sporting Drama Amid A State Of Emergency But How Will Games Be Remembered? covers most of the main talking-points, positive and negative whilst another BBC Sports article, Tokyo Olympics: A Look At How Team GB Fared Sport-By-Sport Compared To Their Funding broadly comes to the same conclusions as this blog last time around. That most of those representing Great Britain did a marvellous job. Except for the rowing squad - as previously noted, they were a fekking disgrace.
Football fan culture in the UK is changing, with a more diverse make-up of fans following the beautiful game, according to a new report commissioned by Sky Sports at the start of the 2021-22 domestic football season. Which started last weekend, you might've noticed (as usual, this blogger's beloved though unsellable Magpies lost. Don't worry, he's well used to such malarkey by now, he's had fifty seven years of this sort of thing). Traditional one-club supporters made up almost a third of those surveyed - the fact that they didn't makes up all of them being the biggest crime identified by this nonsense - but research suggests the treasured die-hards are now joined by a host of different types of fans 'enjoying the game in new ways,' including some who have drawn to the sport through players' powerful voices off the pitch. Yes, dear blog reader, some people actually got paid to produce this shit. Nice work if you can get it. The Football Fandom In 2021 report finds an overwhelming seventy per cent of people feel footballers have 'helped the nation' get talking about discrimination, while sixty three per cent believe they have 'a better understanding of social and economic issues' because of their love of football. And not, seemingly, because they have eyes and a brain in their head. Possibly because, in the case of the latter, they are lacking in that particular department. The findings 'also reveal a number of football fans are now more dedicated to the game itself rather than to a particular team.' Yes, there have always been a few of those around - they're called twats. One in five of those who consider themselves 'football fans' but do not follow a specific team, will still watch football at least once a week and/or never miss a big game. Five 'distinct subcultures' of modern football fandom have emerged, according to the report. Considered the 'traditional' football fan, Lifers are often one-club lifelong fans who have had a football-orientated upbringing. Or, 'normal people' as they're also known. Ever crunching the numbers, the Stattos are more likely than the other subcultures to focus on the pre-match build-up. They will also infuriate their friends by dominating in Fantasy Football. They're mostly harmless but should be avoided if possible since they'll likely bore your tits off with a ream of stats about most passes completed or how many social media followers Richarlison of Everton has which they picked up off Sky Sports News. (Because, it's a little-known fact that Everton, by law, cannot be relegated from the Premier League even if they finish in the bottom three because of Richarlison's forty eight gazillion follower on Instagram. True story.) Modern football culture has seeped into fashion, music and how we connect with each other. Allegedly. Expressionists thrive off this merging of football and lifestyle. It might have been their favourite replica away shirt, or even David Beckham's hair. It was the style, the panache, the culture around football that drew them in, wanting to one-up their mates with the latest boots. These people are dangerous and, frankly, need a ruddy good punch up the bracket to show them of the considerable error of their ways and get them to settle down and behave themselves. Or, stick a bat up their nightdress, whichever is more applicable. Trust this blogger, it's for their own good in the long run. Socialisers focus on the way football brings people together. This subculture connects more with family and friends during the season and they are the first to make plans for big games. Socialisers are mostly into football for the way it makes the country tick - enjoying how big wins bring local community together. They likely follow footballers in the news and on socials simply to be part of the conversation. Again, like Stattos they're fairly harmless and, if you ignore them, hopefully they'll just go away. Finally, driven by the social impact of the football for the greater good, Game Changers are likely to have seen or experienced first hand the power the game has to change mindsets. The Game Changer may have fallen in love with football because of common causes. Marcus Rashford, Raheem Sterling and Hector Bellerin have used their voice to shine a light on important issues at home and abroad, winning them legions of new followers. Game Changers, in other words, are likely to be Middle Class quiche-eating, Gruniad Morning Star-reading hippy Communists who never liked football until it became fashionable amongst their Middle Class quiche-eating, Gruniad Morning Star-reading hippy Communist fiends. But who now think they know everything about everything. Death's too good for the lot of 'em. So, dear blog reader, to sum up them ... some tosser actually got paid to come up with this rank horseshit. As any fule kno. And, I'm not even lying.
The stars of Line Of Duty will go head-to-head for one of the main prizes at this year's National Television Awards. Vicky McClure, Adrian Dunbar and Martin Compston are among the five nominees for the best drama performance trophy. They will face competition from Olly Alexander and David Tennant, who delivered acclaimed performances in It's A Sin and Des respectively.
South Asian food bloggers have, reportedly, criticised the overuse of the word 'curry' over claims it is 'rooted in British colonialism.' Earlier this year, Chaheti Bansal (no, me neither) posted an Instagram video calling on people to 'cancel the word curry.' This blogger will admit he does somewhat overuse the word curry since he eats little else. Next ...
TV and radio services for more than a million people will remain off-air indefinitely after a transmitter fire. The blaze at the Bilsdale mast on Tuesday of last week disrupted Freeview, DAB and FM radio signals across North Yorkshire, Teesside and parts of County Durham. But not, thankfully, as far North as the Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House otherwise there would have been a bit of bother. Operator Arqiva said that it would bring in temporary equipment but could not say when services would be restored. Witness Ron Needham reported seeing 'a huge black cloud of smoke come from the buildings at the bottom.' That'd be the fire, then, Ron. He had been hiking on the North York Moors with his wife, Sue, when they stopped for lunch at the base of the mast. They noticed 'nothing untoward' but after continuing for about a mile-and-a-half noticed smoke coming from the top 'like a chimney,' Needham claimed. One or two people even believed him. Despite the loss of transmission from the tower, BBC television remains available on iPlayer. Although, if you live in the area and haven't got a computer them, basically, you're screwed. Radio stations can still be listened to on BBC Sounds. Ditto. Firefighters were sent to the site after a call from an engineer working on the transmitter near Helmsley. North Yorkshire Fire and Rescue Service said there were 'concerns about the structural integrity of the mast' and a three hundred metre exclusion zone was in place around the mast. It also said the cause of the blaze was 'being investigated' but did not believe it was as a result of 'a criminal act.' Unless, of course, Ron and Sue know different. Arqiva confirmed that no-one was injured in the fire and thanked emergency services 'for their swift action. We have started the process to gradually restore services using a combination of temporary structures and existing infrastructure elsewhere in the region, and will be moving through this process as quickly and safely as possible,' a spokesperson said. A spokeswoman for North Yorkshire Police said Airwave, the radio service used by all the emergency services, had 'not been affected' by the mast fire. The tower was built in 1969 and provides coverage for half-a-million homes across Northern England, from Tadcaster to Seaham. Arqiva said about two hundred thousand of those use Freeview as their main TV platform. Needless to say, people were soon contacting the BBC about how the loss of transmission has affected them, with one viewer saying they were 'stuck at home with severe disabilities.' Which, presumably, had been the situation before the fire so, really, there's not a whole heap anyone can do about that particular situation. The services affected include: Channels on the PSB1, 2, 3, COM4, 5, 6, 7 and LTV television multiplexes; BBC Radio Tees, BBC Radios 1-4 and BBC DAB; Commercial radio stations SDL, North Yorkshire DAB, BAUER Teesside, Digital 1, TFM, Capital, Heart and Classic FM. Sky, Freesat and cable services are not affected. Coverage of BBC Radio Tees on DAB is reduced but some reception should continue for most listeners and there is no need to retune. BBC Tees's coverage of Middlesbrough's match against Blackpool was affected, however - an utter tragedy for all Smoggies who couldn't get to Lancashire and watch their side receive a three-nil hiding. Although, if the The Football Fandom in 2021 report is correct, then the majority of Middlesbrough supporters are either Stattos or Expressionists anyway and, thus, were more concerned about how much possession they'd had, or how their hair was looking at the time.
Sky News Australia has removed dozens of videos from its websites, after YouTube suspended the channel for spreading Covid misinformation. The archly right-wing TV network, owned by billionaire tyrant Rupert Murdoch, has been criticised for promoting conspiracies and questioning public health orders in its broadcasts. In recent days it has taken down about thirty videos without explanation or making corrections. Sky News Australia has declined to comment. And, to paraphrase the late and much-lamented Mandy Rice-Davies, 'well, they would, wouldn't they?' But its parent company, News Corp Australia, told local media that the network had taken an 'editorial decision' to remove the videos. One or two people even believed them. Former Australian prime minister Kevin Rudd was among the first to accuse the channel last week of 'quietly scrubbing incriminating Covid-19 misinformation videos' from its platforms. The videos had showed network hosts - including Alan Jones, Andrew Bolt and Rowan Dean - expressing views that have been rejected by global medical authorities. One video showed Jones questioning the legitimacy of the pandemic, erroneously claiming it wasn't worse than the 'common cold.' Which, you know, it probably is. Given that it had now killed over four million people worldwide during the past eighteen months. By and large, the cold doesn't tend to do that. So it would, therefore, appear that this Jones individual is, how can we put this, taking crap. Another video since removed promoted an interview with a pathologist spreading misinformation that Covid was a hoax. According to Gruniad Morning Star Australia (some relation), most of the removed videos 'talked up the drugs ivermectin and hydroxychloroquine.' Both drugs have gained attention after being promoted by figures including former US president - and hairdo - Rump. But medical authorities, including the WHO, say the evidence for their effectiveness against Covid remains unproven and, you know, who you gonna believe, scientists or orange-faced former reality TV has-beens and currently full-time arsehole? Tough choice? No, not really. Rudd and other critics have described Sky News Australia's broadcasts as 'dangerous and irresponsible.' It comes as millions of Australians remain in lockdown to prevent the spread of Delta outbreaks in Sydney and Melbourne. Fewer than a quarter of Australians have got themselves vaccinated. Frustration over restrictions has also led to several large anti-lockdown protests. Mostly from the kind of beer-swilling Neanderthals who used to populate The Hill at the SCG and shout 'pooftah' at any hapless England cricketer who suffered the misfortune of being posted down to long leg. Sky News Australia executives are due to face a parliamentary inquiry on Friday, after YouTube on 1 August penalised the channel's Covid coverage. The network accused the tech giant of 'censorship', but lawmakers said the platform's decision 'reflected wider concerns.'
Engineers are, reportedly, trying to work out what went wrong when the US space agency's Perseverance rover tried to gather its first rock core on Mars. The robot's mechanisms seemed to work perfectly but when a metal tube expected to hold the sample was examined, it was found to be empty. The mission team think the particular properties of the target rock may have been to blame. Either that or, you know, The Ice Warriors snuck up and pinched it. One or the other. 'The initial thinking is that the empty tube is more likely a result of the rock target not reacting the way we expected during coring and less likely a hardware issue with the sampling and caching system,' said Jennifer Trosper, project manager for Perseverance at NASA's Jet Propulsion Laboratory in California. When asked about the possibility of Ice Warrior interference, Jen claimed a prior appointment and left. 'Over the next few days, the team will be spending more time analysing the data we have, and also acquiring some additional diagnostic data to support understanding the root cause for the empty tube,' she added as she hurried through the door and headed for the nearest NASA bunker. Perseverance has a drilling and coring system on the end of its 2m-long robotic arm. This is capable of cutting and retrieving finger-sized samples of rock. These are then passed to a processing unit inside the rover's belly that packages and seals them in titanium cylinders. But before sealing, a camera and probe are used to assess the amount of material recovered and when this was done for Friday's coring attempt it became obvious the sample was missing. This would not be the first time the Red Planet's surface has played hard-to-get with robots' analytical tools. NASA's 2007 Phoenix lander found the local soils in Mars''Arctic' region to have a sticky consistency that made it difficult to get a sample into the robot's onboard laboratory. And the agency's 2018 InSight lander struggled - and ultimately failed - to drive a temperature instrument into the ground. The sub-surface was unexpectedly resistant. Take it from this blogger, those Ice Warriors can get like Somerset farmers when it comes to trespassing.
Deliveroo has said demand for its services has strengthened despite Covid restrictions easing. Which only goes to prove how lazy some people have got during lockdown. This blogger included - although, to be fair, he tends to use Just Eat instead. The food delivery firm saw orders double to over on hundred and forty eight million in the first half of this year, while the value of its transactions also doubled. At the same time, it narrowed its pre-tax losses to one hundred and four million knicker, as against one hundred and twenty eight million smackers a year earlier. It was the first set of results from the company since it floated on the stock market in March. Deliveroo initially listed on the London stock exchange at three hundred and ninety pence a share, but the price fell sharply on the opening day of trading, 31 March. On Monday, its shares rallied on the news that German rival Delivery Hero had bought a five per cent stake in the company. Cooped-up consumers flocked to order from Deliveroo during the earlier stages of the pandemic, when restaurants were closed and people switched to home deliveries. The firm said it expected customer behaviour to 'moderate' later in the year, but it remained 'excited about the opportunity ahead.' It added that its outlook for the remainder of the year continued to be 'optimistic but prudent, combining confidence in continued year-on-year growth in orders with an expectation that average order values revert towards pre-pandemic levels.'
Eurovision type individual James Newman has won a High Court case against an ex-Voice contestant who claimed he had, previously, copied one of her songs. Before representing the UK at the annual song contest, where he came extremely last with but nul points, Newman co-wrote Rudimental & Ella Eyre's 2013 number one hit 'Waiting All Night'. It won best British single at The Brit Awards the following year. Kelly-Marie Smith claimed the song was copied from a song which she allegedly wrote in 2006. But a judge has dismissed her claim and told her to stop being so silly. One half of The Voice duo Nu-Tarna, who appeared on the lack of talent show in 2013, Smith sued Newman along with co-writer, Jonny Harris and three members of Rudimental - Kesi Dryden, Piers Aggett and Amir Izadkhah. But by the end of the High Court trial, judge Mr Justice Zacaroli said 'the allegation of copying was pursued against Mister Newman alone.' He concluded, with the help of musicologists, that while there were 'some limited similarities' between the choruses of 'Waiting All Night' and Smith's 'Can You Tell Me?', there were also 'important differences.' Any similarities in the lyrics, he said, could be down to the fact they contained 'commonplace expressions.' The suggestion that Smith's little-known and commercially unreleased song had 'filtered through' to Newman was based on 'tenuous connections', he added. Smith's legal team argued there were 'too many similarities' between the songs to be explained away by 'mounting coincidence.' But Newman's barrister, Tom Weisselberg QC, said her case was a 'concocted claim that should never have been brought.' He said Newman had conceived his song in 2012 when he was working night shifts in a restaurant whilst trying to make it as a songwriter. Something which is still a work-in-progress, apparently.
Bright and bubbly, Una Stubbs, who died over the weekend aged eighty four, was a revue regular and a Palladium pantomime principal boy who parlayed her natural song-and-dance talent into a later, highly diverse career on the classical stage.
In earlier years she was best known for her roles alongside Cliff Richard in two well-remembered pop musical movies - Summer Holiday (1963) and Wonderful Life (1964) - and as Alf Garnett's spirited daughter, Rita Rawlins, married to a socialist layabout (Anthony Booth), in Johnny Speight's classic social document sitcom Till Death Us Do Part (1965 to 1975) and in episodes of its 1980s sequel, In Sickness & In Health. Both of these incarnations are unimaginable today: a docile, amenable dolly bird hanging around with Cliff and The Shadows and a tolerant but incipiently trendy daughter of a loud-mouthed racist bigot - the late Warren Mitchell's brilliant and relentless performance.
Una transcended, or at least sidestepped, these cultural contrasts by the simple expedient of always being herself, honest and translucent in all she did. She had the ability to shine in revues (at the Mermaid Theatre) based on the works of Noël Coward and Cole Porter, as well as in Shakespeare and Schiller directed by Michael Grandage - her latterday mentor - in Sheffield and the West End, or even Ibsen at the National Theatre. Wherever she went, she sparkled and the longevity of her career was remarkable. She started out as a sixteen-year-old dancer in a Folies Bergère-style musical revue, Pardon My French, with Frankie Howerd and the pianist Winifred Atwell at The Prince Of Wales in 1953 and finished as a touchingly endearing Mrs Hudson in the BBC's Sherlock, starring alongside Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman. She was geared to be fast and funny. She was The Dairy Box Girl in an early TV advert in 1955, her breathy, adenoidal voice instantly memorable and she was soon starring in the West End revue On the Brighter Side (1959) at The Phoenix – with talents including Stanley Baxter, Betty Marsden and Ronnie Barker.
Una was born in Welwyn Garden City, Hertfordshire, where her mother, Angela, worked in the cutting room of Denham film studios nearby and her father, Clarence Stubbs, was a factory worker with Shredded Wheat. Her great-grandfather was Ebenezer Howard, the founder of Welwyn Garden City. The middle of three children - a sister, Claire, was two years older; a brother, Paul, two years younger - Una struggled to assert herself as they all grew up in Hinckley, Leicestershire. She trained at the La Roche dancing school in Slough ('There's posh,' she recalled) and made a debut at the Theatre Royal, Windsor, as the fairy Peaseblossom in A Midsummer Night's Dream. In 1955 she was dancing at the London Palladium and in 1956 appeared in both ITV's Cool For Cats, one of the first teen pop music shows, with The Dougie Squires Dancers and as 'a starlet' at the Venice film festival in Grab Me A Gondola, a somewhat unjustly forgotten British musical in which Joan Heal gave a celebrated performance as a wannabe film star. Una met her first husband, the actor Peter Gilmore (the star in the BBC's The Onedin Line in the 1970s), whom she married in 1958, on these gigs. The marriage ended in divorce in 1969. After the Cliff Richard films and during Till Death Us Do Part, there was a step-change when she joined The Young Vic and met Nicky Henson, whom she married in 1969. She appeared there in the Rita Tushingham role in The Knack and as the Princess in The Soldier's Tale (starring opposite her new husband). In 1975 Stubbs played the lead role in Irma La Douce, directed by Dougie Squires, at the Watford Palace, in which she exploded like a firecracker in the big set-piece number 'Dis Donc'.
Her place in popular television culture was sealed in the next few years as she appeared in Fawlty Towers, as the ferocious Aunt Sally in Worzel Gummidge with Mister Pertwee and as team captain, opposite her great friend Lionel Blair, in the television game show Give Us A Clue.
Her second great phase as a stage actor began at The Royal Exchange in Manchester in the 1990s – Mrs Hardcastle in She Stoops To Conquer, Lady Markby in An Ideal Husband - culminating in a devastating and wholly unexpected performance as Terence Rattigan's confused and desperate heroine Hester Collyer in The Deep Blue Sea, in a production at The Mercury Theatre in Colchester in 1997 directed by Grandage. She began the new millennium as a hilarious sidekick to Penelope Keith in a touring (and West End) stage adaptation of the Noël Coward short story Star Quality and as the Nurse in Romeo & Juliet at Chichester in 2002 (with Emily Blunt was Juliet). In 2005 she joined the National Theatre, playing Mrs Holt in Ibsen's Pillars Of The Community, with Damian Lewis and Lesley Manville; two years later, her legit status increasing, she joined Peter Hall's summer season at The Theatre Royal, Bath, to play a delightful Mrs Pearce in Pygmalion, a revival that, with Tim Pigott-Smith as Higgins and Michelle Dockery as Eliza, later transferred to The Old Vic. When Grandage took over at The Sheffield Crucible, then succeeded Sam Mendes at The Donmar Warehouse, Una was a regular part of his team and a revelation, as a pert and fiery Maria in Twelfth Night, a starchy lady-in-waiting in Schiller's Don Carlos, with Derek Jacobi and a choric mainstay of a revival of TS Eliot's The Family Reunion, with Samuel West and Penelope Wilton, in 2008.
In the same year, she registered a beautiful comic cameo in the Menier Chocolate Factory revival of La Cage Aux Folles starring Douglas Hodge. She returned to The National in 2012 to feature strongly in Marianne Elliott's staging of The Curious Incident Of The Dog in the Night-Time as the neighbour who spills the beans about mother 'doing sex' with Mr Shears. Her television career remained eclectic, as she popped up in EastEnders as Caroline Bishop in 2006 and in various episodes of Benidorm, Midsomer Murders and The Durrells. Her screen CV also included appearances in Murder On The Blackpool Express, Call The Midwife, Starlings, The Bleak Old Shop Of Stuff, The Catherine Tate Show, The Worst Witch, Tricky Business, Happy Families, I'm Bob, He's Dickie, Life With Johnny, Boy Meets Girl, Hudd, The Dick Emery Show, The Strange World Of Gurney Slade and Rush Hour.
From 2010 onwards she was busy as Mrs Hudson in Sherlock, but managed one last movie outing in John Miller's Ealing Comedy-style pensioners' criminal caper Golden Years (2016). This blogger had the great good-fortune to meet Una in 2012 at a Sherlock publicity event in London. She was, as one would have wished for, every bit as charming, witty and pleasant as her onscreen persona, recalling aspects of her career with clarity and speaking with great fondness of former co-stars like Warren Mitchell ('he really was like another dad to me'), Tony Booth and Cliff.
She enjoyed embroidery and painting, writing two books on the former - Una Stubbs In Stitches (1984) and A Stitch In Time (1985), which expanded into a self-help volume on single motherhood - and indulging her well-trained eye for the latter in co-hosting (with Richard Bacon) the first series, in 2015, of BBC's The Big Painting Challenge. Her marriage to Henson ended in divorce in 1975. She is survived by their sons, Christian and Joe and by Jason, the son of her first marriage.
Fußball-Club Bayern München and West Germany legend Gerd Müller has died at the age of seventy five. One of the best strikers in history, Müller scored sixty eight goals in sixty two appearances for West Germany, including the winning goal in the 1974 World Cup final against The Netherlands. He also scored five hundred and forty seven goals in fine hundred and ninety four competitive games during fifteen years at Bundesliga giants Bayern, one of the finest goals-to-games ratio of any player in the modern socherball era. 'Today is a sad, black day for FC Bayern and all of its fans,' Bayern president Herbert Hainer said. 'Gerd Müller was the greatest striker there has ever been - and a fine person, a personality in world football. We are united in deep sorrow with his wife Uschi and his family. Without Gerd Müller, FC Bayern would not be the club we all love today. His name and the memory of him will live on forever.' Müller, a two times German footballer of the year, won the Golden Boot for netting ten goals at the 1970 World Cup - including the one that knocked England out in the Quarter Finals - and also won the Ballon d'Or that year. He helped West Germany win the European Championship two years later, scoring twice in a three-nil win against the Soviet Union in the final after, again, putting out in the Quarters. 'The news of Gerd Müller's death deeply saddens us all,' Bayern chief executive Mary Shelley's Oliver Kahn said. 'He's one of the greatest legends in the history of FC Bayern, his achievements are unrivalled to this day and will forever be a part of the great history of FC Bayern and all of German football. As a player and a person, Gerd Müller stands for FC Bayern and its development into one of the biggest clubs in the world like no other. Gerd will forever be in our hearts.' During his fifteen years at Fußball-Club Bayern München, Müller was the Bundesliga's top scorer seven times. He also held the record for the most goals in a calendar year after scoring eighty five in 1972 until Lionel Messi surpassed his total in 2012. His record of forty goals in a Bundesliga season - scored during 1971-72 - stood for forty nine years before it was broken by Robert Lewandowski in May. In total, Müller helped Bayern win four Bundesliga and DFB Cup titles, three European Cups, a European Cup Winners' Cup and an Intercontinental Cup. In 2015, the club announced he had been diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease. Born in November 1945, Muller joined Bayern in 1964. With his short stature and stocky build he was nicknamed 'short, fat Müller' by his first coach at the club, Zlatko Cajkovski. However, Müller quickly developed a reputation for being a clinical striker and his goals helped Bayern win the league title four times between 1969 and 1974. His prowess in the penalty box quickly made him one of the most feared forwards at club and international level, with another Bayern great - Karl-Heinz Rummenigge - describing Muller in 2015 as 'the best of all time, the Muhammad Ali of the penalty box.' To football fans worldwide he was Der Bomber. Müller retired from international football shortly after helping West Germany win the World Cup in 1974, aged just twenty eight, but continued to enjoy success at Bayern before leaving in 1979 to join Fort Lauderdale Strikers. He played three seasons in the United States before announcing his retirement in 1982.
And finally, dear blog reader, The International Cricket Council is bidding to have the sport included in the Olympic Games. The ICC says its 'primary target' is being added to the 2028 Games in Los Angeles. It would end a one hundred and twenty eight-year wait for the sport to be included, following its only previous appearance in the 1900 Games in Paris. The sport will feature as a women's event in the 2022 Commonwealth Games in Birmingham. ICC chair Greg Barclay says the 'sport is united behind this bid' and that the Olympics are part of cricket's 'long-term future. We have more than a billion fans globally and almost ninety per cent of them want to see cricket at the Olympics,' said Barclay. Why the other ten per cent don't, he didn't elaborate. 'Clearly cricket has a strong and passionate fanbase, particularly in South Asia where ninety two er cent of our fans come from, whilst there are also thirty million cricket fans in the USA.' Where, exactly, that thirty million figure was derived from he, also, didn't say. 'The opportunity for those fans to see their heroes competing for an Olympic medal is tantalising.' Although, given the woeful current form of the England test team - if not the white ball variety side - one could argue it's unlikely to boost Britain's projected medal total too much.

Despite becoming one of the greats of rock and/or roll, the dapper and deadpan Charlie Watts, who died this week aged eighty, spent more than sixty years doing his second-favourite job. Charlie applied himself diligently to the task of being the rock-steady heartbeat of The Rolling Stones, but what he always yearned to do was play jazz. Charlie Parker, Duke Ellington and Miles Davis were his musical idols and his playing was inspired by jazz drummers such as Elvin Jones, Roy Haynes and Philly Joe Jones.

Charlie's career with The Stones ran from the cramped West London clubs of Britain's early-1960s rhythm and blues boom to the international stadium tours which became the norm by the 1970s. Through it all, he seemed determined to be as self-effacing as anybody could be as a member of perhaps the world's most high-profile rock band. Nonetheless, the group fully understood his value to them. Keith Richards, in particular, often acknowledged how fundamental Charlie was to The Stones' sound, perhaps not least because he was prepared to make space for the churning rhythmic drive of the guitars of Richards, Brian Jones and, later, Mick Taylor and Ronnie Wood. The crisp economy of Charlie's drumming, both swinging and muscular, was remarkable for its absence of frills or fuss, freeing the rest of the band to express themselves around it. 'Charlie Watts gives me the freedom to fly on stage,' Richards once observed.

Charlie, who trained in graphic design, also contributed a lot to The Stones' marketing and presentation, which came to the fore as they evolved into a global brand and their performances grew increasingly spectacular. He was involved in the artwork for some early Stones releases - notably 1967's Between The Buttons - and collaborated with Mick Jagger on the design of their elaborate stage sets for such tours as Steel Wheels/Urban Jungle (1989-90), Bridges To Babylon (1997-98), Licks (2002-03) and A Bigger Bang (2005-07). Any conversation with Charlie was likely to rove amiably across topics such as his love of Savile Row suits, cricket - he often attended test matches at Lord's and The Oval - and the horses he reared with his wife, Shirley, at their Halsdon Arabians farm in Devon. But he would invariably come back to his first love, jazz. 'The first person whose playing I was aware of was [baritone saxophonist] Gerry Mulligan and the track was 'Walking Shoes', with Chico Hamilton playing drums,' Charlie recalled in 2012. 'That's what made me want to play the drums. Before that I wanted to play alto sax because I loved Earl Bostic.' 

'As much as Mick's voice and Keith's guitar, Charlie Watts's snare sound is The Rolling Stones,' Bruce Springsteen once wrote. 'When Mick sings, 'It's only rock 'n' roll but I like it,' Charlie's in back showing you why!' Charlie was never the most flashy drummer. He wasn't known for the frenzied solos of The Cream's Ginger Baker, or for placing explosives in his kick drum like The Who's Keith Moon. Instead, like his good friend Ringo Starr, he was the subtle, stoic, metronomic heartbeat of his band for almost sixty years. His jazz-inflected swing gave many Stones' songs their swagger, pushing and pulling at the groove, creating room for Jagger's lascivious drawl. He was at his best on the cowbell-driven 'Honky Tonk Women', the power-groove of 'Street Fighting Man' or the locked-down quasi-funk of 'Gimme Shelter' (where he even threw in some uncharacteristically showy fills). On and off the stage, he was quiet and reserved - sticking to the shadows and letting the rest of the band suck up the limelight, the controversy and the glory. 'I've actually never been interested in all that stuff and [I'm] still not,' he told the San Diego Tribune in 1991. 'I don't know what showbiz is and I've never watched MTV. There are people who just play instruments and I'm pleased to know that I'm one of them.' In 1989, during a Stones twenty fifth anniversary TV documentary (Twenty Five By Five) Charlie was deliciously self-deprecating about his time in the band, describing it as 'five years of work and twenty years of hanging around!'

Charlie was born at University College Hospital, London, to Charles Watts, a lorry driver and his wife Lillian. The family (including Charlie's sister, Linda) lived in Wembley in post-war prefabricated housing. He became lifelong friends with his neighbour, Dave Green, who would become a fine jazz bass player. The young Watts (dubbed 'Charlie Boy' by his parents) became fixated on hard bebop and cool jazz during the 1950s. He bought himself a banjo when he was fourteen, but rather than learn how to play it he converted it into a snare drum. He was given his first drum kit as a Christmas present in 1955 and whilst other teenagers were shaking a leg to Bill Haley or Elvis Presley, he dreamed of playing drums with Miles Davis, or stepping into Art Blakey's shoes with The Jazz Messengers. His first band was the jazz outfit The Jo Jones All Stars, which he and Green joined in 1958. After Tyler's Croft secondary modern school in Kingsbury, Charlie studied at Harrow School of Art, where he drew, as part of an assignment, a thirty six-page children's book called Ode To A High Flying Bird, depicting the life of the saxophonist Charlie Parker. The book was later picked up by a London publisher and printed in 1964. After art college Watts secured a job as a designer with a London advertising agency, Charlie Daniels Studios, in 1960. Whilst working at the agency he was lured away from jazz by Alexis Korner, who recruited him for his band, Blues Incorporated in 1962. In the small pool of the nascent British 'blues boom', the future Stones Jagger and Brian Jones (then calling himself Elmo Lewis) made appearances with Korner's band, before Jones branched off to start his own group that included The Stones' unsung but faithful pianist and roadie, Ian Stewart. 

A meeting with Jagger and Keith Richards prompted the formation of The Rolling Stones, although it was a few months before the cautious Watts was induced to leave Korner's band and join them full-time, which he eventually did in January 1963. Charlie would observe The Stones' remarkable trajectory from his vantage point at the back of the stage, occasionally permitting himself a quizzical smile - particularly on the odd occasions where he got to introduce a number - but always remaining detached from the cavalcade of The Sex, The Drugs and the spectacular headlines which followed the band around the world. Renowned as the quiet, sensible one, he never strayed into the limelight if he could avoid it, though the title of Peter Whitehead's documentary film Charlie Is My Darling, shot when The Stones visited Ireland in 1965, acknowledged that Watts projected his own, quiet, mystique. While Jagger, Jones, Richards and Bill Wyman would be out on the town in the Soho clubs, havin' it large with every fashion model within touching distance, Charlie quietly married his girlfriend Shirley Shepherd in 1964 without even telling his bandmates. The couple's relationship remained solid until his death.

Only for a brief period during the mid-1980s did his natural self-reliance fail him. During recording of The Stones' worst LP, Dirty Work in 1985, Jagger and Richards were at loggerheads, the future of the band looked shaky and Charlie's daughter Seraphina (born in 1968) had been expelled from the prestigious Millfield public school after being caught smoking dope. Watts began hitting the bottle, and - shockingly for anyone who knew him - developed a brief, but heavy, heroin habit, though never quite on a scale to match that of Richards. 'Towards the end of 1986, I hit an all-time low in my personal life and in my relationship with Mick,' he admitted later. 'I was mad on drink and drugs. I became a completely different person, not a nice one. I nearly lost my wife and family and everything.' Charlie's relations with Jagger had reached a nadir. On one infamous occasion, in an Amsterdam hotel in 1984, a drunken Jagger reportedly woke Watts up by bellowing down the phone 'Where's my drummer?' Charlie responded by getting dressed, having a shave, going round to the singer's room, giving Mick a damned good fisting with a left hook and bellowing: 'Don't ever call me "your drummer" again, you're my fucking singer.' However, the ever-practical Watts quietly weaned himself off drugs even before his problem had become public knowledge and concentrated on building a family life focused around horses and breeding sheepdogs at a country estate he had purchased in Devon.

He also distracted himself from the squabbles and struggles of The Stones by putting together The Charlie Watts Big Band, which featured many top British jazz players. They toured the US and recorded an LP, Live At Fulham Town Hall, released in 1986. In 1991 he formed The Charlie Watts Quintet, which recorded a string of CDs including From One Charlie, a tribute to Charlie Parker and, in 2000, he teamed up with fellow drum legend Jim Keltner for The Charlie Watts/Jim Keltner Project, a tribute to the pair's favourite jazz drummers. In 2004 came Watts At Scott's, a live recording of The Charlie Watts Tentet at Ronnie Scott's club The disc appeared as news emerged that Watts had been undergoing radiotherapy for throat cancer. The treatment proved successful and the cancer went into remission. 

While touring and studio work with The Stones continued as ever, in 2009 he began playing with The ABC&D Of Boogie Woogie - the name came from the first-name initials of its members, the pianists Axel Zwingenberger and Ben Waters and Charlie's old mate Dave Green. They recorded The Magic Of Boogie Woogie (2010) and Live In Paris (2012). 

Charlie was, of course, extremely inducted into the Rock and/or Roll Hall of Fame with The Stones in 1989 and was voted into Modern Drummer magazine's Hall of Fame in 2006. Also in 2006, Vanity Fair voted the impeccably tailored Charlie into an International Best Dressed List Hall of Fame. Shortly before his death it was reported that he had undergone surgery and that Steve Jordan would be taking his place on the Stones'No Filter tour of the US. He is survived by Shirley, Seraphina and a granddaughter, Charlotte.

Ted Dexter, who has also died this week at the age of eighty six, was the beau ideal, the supreme all-rounder of English cricket for a decade. Dexter could turn his hand to anything sporting and he did so with panache, style, vigour and a hint of the arrogance, whilst ticking every establishment box. Dexter was born in Milan where his father, Ralph, was a prosperous underwriter. Ted along with his family moved to England when he was aged three just before the start of World War II. Dexter was educated at Norfolk House, Beaconsfield and Radley College, where he played in the first XI from 1950 to 1953, initially as a wicket-keeper and as captain in 1953 and was nicknamed 'Lord Ted' by his coach Ivor Gilliat for his aloof self-confidence. While Dexter was head boy at Radley, Peter Cook, the satirist, was - he claimed - among those younger boys upon whom 'a big and strong' Dexter inflicted corporal punishment. (Dexter also made an enemy of Geoffrey Boycott who used two pages of his 1979 autobiography Put To The Test to criticise Dexter for using comments Boycott made off-air during an appearance on Parkinson in public. 'That article was a disgrace,' wrote Boycott, angrily. 'If that's what a public school a university education does for Ted Dexter, I'm glad I went to Hemsworth Grammer School.') Dexter did his national service as a second lieutenant in the Eleventh Hussars during the Malayan Emergency (1953-55) and was awarded the Malaya Campaign Medal. On his discharge, Dexter entered Jesus College, Cambridge in October 1955, where he played golf and rugby in addition to winning his cricket Blue. Dexter was all the more exciting against the contemporary background of English cricket. It was, frankly, a boring period. The late 1950s was the epoch of Trevor Bailey blocking all day, of Peter May captaining cautiously, of Colin Cowdrey reining in his prodigious talents. Dexter went out and stroked the ball all around the ground, like almost everyone these days but few others then. His signature shot was the front-foot drive, through the covers or over long-off and as dashing as Wally Hammond's had been.

Dexter had flexed his wrists by playing golf from an early age - and he continued to play it, occasionally with professional friends like Jack Nicklaus and Gary Player, such was the company he kept. While his team-mates pushed and poked, Dexter strode out at number three for Sussex or England, lowered his cap and charged the bowling. One of the most celebrated of all test innings for England was the seventy he scored against the West Indies at Lord's in 1963, when Wes Hall and Charlie Griffith were dishing out some of the fastest bowling England had seen to that point, backed by Gary Sobers, the one adversary Dexter found more gifted than himself. Dexter could bowl pretty fast too, well enough to be England's regular third seamer. It is unimaginable now but in those amateur days England's number three would peel off his sweater and bowl as quickly as the opening bowlers. Having been selected too soon for England on their 1958-9 tour of Australia and New Zealand, Dexter had come to the fore the following winter on their tour of the Caribbean. Never let it be assumed that Dexter was just a dashing amateur: he had a cricket brain that was ingenious and he worked out that playing the bouncers which Hall and Griffith fired down, as never before, were best dealt with by playing back and chest-on - not in the orthodox style of side-on. Although junior to Cowdrey, Dexter became England's captain when May retired, as the MCC, who then made such appointments, hoped he would lead his team to play less defensive cricket: around the world test cricket was congealing into a morass of blocking and draws. Dexter tried to lead by example when scoring four hundred and eighty one runs in the 1962-3 series in Australia, the most in a series there by any England captain to this day, but even then the series was another draw. It was in one-day cricket that Dexter found the scope for his ingenuity. As captain of Sussex, he won the first two Gillette Cups, in 1963 and 1964. In this knockout tournament English cricket roused itself from the post-war stupor of the late 1950s. Dexter bowled Sussex's pace bowlers, no spinners and spread the field, then cashed in with the bat when his opponents played conventionally. Dexter needed the tactics of one-day cricket as something to think about on the field (he came out of retirement to play for Sussex when the Sunday League was launched in 1971). Dexter declared himself unavailable for the 1964–65 tour of South Africa as he contested Jim Callaghan's Cardiff South East seat for the Conservative Party in the 1964 General Election. Finding himself free to tour after his parliamentary defeat he was made vice-captain to Mike Smith, who won the series and continued as captain. Dexter's cricket career was virtually ended by a serious motor accident in 1965. His Jaguar ran out of petrol in West London and he was pushing it to safety when it pinned him to a warehouse door, breaking his leg. He left Sussex and played occasional Sunday games with the International Cavaliers whilst beginning a long career in journalism. He returned tocricket, briefly, in 1968, making two hundred and three not out in his comeback match against Kent and appearing twice for England in the 1968 Ashes series under Colin Cowdrey. Like many talented and versatile people, Dexter easily became bored. On a slow test or championship day he could be seen practising his golf swing while he was supposed to be concentrating in the field - not something he would have approved of when he became England's chairman of selectors in 1989. If Dexter had any direct successor as an England test captain, it was David Gower who took an afternoon off to fly a Tiger Moth on a tour of Australia. In 1970 Dexter had piloted his own plane from England to Australia to cover that winter's Ashes tour. He was accompanied by his wife, the glamorous model Susan Longfield, with whom he had had fallen in love at Cambridge, but the living conditions for almost a month with a baby were arduous. Planes, fast cars, motorbikes, cricket journalism, a co-written novel (Testkill - with Clifford Makins, a particular favourite of this blogger) in which an Australian bowler is murdered during a test match at Lord's: all these exploits kept Dexter amused for a while. In another piece of ingenuity he helped to devise the Deloittes Ratings, which were to become the official ICC player rankings. He was much quoted for the odd gaffe when England chairman of selectors, notably when he mistakenly referred to Devon Malcolm as 'Malcolm Devon' but he became bored by saying and doing conventional things because they came so easily, and it is not what he should be remembered for. Dexter illuminated English cricket when darkness was threatening to overcome. Dexter was appointed CBE in 2001. In 2007 his long Sussex attachment came full circle when he was elected club president. In 1959 Dexter married Susan, the daughter of the former county cricketer Tom Longfield. She and their son, Tom and daughter, Genevieve, survive him.

The comedian Sean Lock has died from cancer at the age of fifty eight. A comedy panel show favourite, Lock was a team captain on the series Eight Out Of Ten Cats, hosted by Jimmy Carr. He also appeared regularly on Qi, The Last Leg, Have I Got News For You and The Big Fat Quiz Of The Year (where he had to suffer co-hosting with That Odious Corden Individual). Paying tribute, Bill Bailey said: 'It's heartbreaking to lose my dearest friend Sean Lock, he was a true original, a wonderful comic.' Lee Mack, fellow comedian and another close friend of Lock's, described the news of his death as 'heartbreaking', adding: 'A true original both in comedy and life. I will miss him so much.' Born in Chertsey, Surrey, Sean left school in the early 1980s and began working on building sites but developed skin cancer, which he blamed on over-exposure to the sun. He recovered and decided to focus on a career in comedy. Early in his TV career, Lock appeared on the 1993 series Newman & Baddiel In Pieces. Lock co-wrote the screenplay for the 2001 feature film This Filthy Earth alongside director Andrew Kötting, which was adapted from the novel La Terre by Émile Zola. Lock was named best live comic at the British Comedy Award in 2000 and had also previously been nominated for the prestigious Perrier Comedy Award at Edinburgh. In 2006, he presented and produced the Channel Four series TV Heaven, Telly Hell, in which guests would discuss their likes and dislikes in television. Lock also appeared at Channel Four's Comedy Gala. He wrote and starred in the BBC sitcom Fifteen Storeys High. But Lock was probably best known as a team captain on Eight Out Of Ten Cats. The show saw panellists answer questions based on statistics and opinion polls. He appeared on the first eighteen series, opposite team captains including Jason Manford and Jon Richardson. Lock left the show in 2016. He and Richardson also appeared on the spin-off series Eight Out Of Ten Cats does Countdown which included one of his finest ever routines, The Tiger Who Came For A Pint. 'I wish I had the words to describe the exceptional man that was Sean Lock. But today I don't, and I think he might have liked it that way,' tweeted his co-star Susie Dent.

Don Everly, the surviving member of the rock and/or roll duo The Everly Brothers, has died in Nashville at the age of eighty four. A family spokesperson confirmed Everly's death to the Los Angeles Times. Everly and his brother, Phil, had hits worldwide in the late 1950s and early 1960s, including 'Bye Bye Love' and 'All I Have To Do Is Dream'. They were known for their close harmonies and influenced the likes of The Beatles and Simon and Garfunkel. The pair had an onstage break-up in 1973 which led to a decade-long estrangement, but Phil later told Time magazine that the brothers' relationship had survived this. 'Don lived by what he felt in his heart. Don expressed his appreciation for the ability to live his dreams with his soulmate and wife, Adela, and sharing the music that made him an Everly Brother,' a statement said. The Everly brothers were the children of country and western singers and performed on the family radio show while growing up. In their heyday, between 1957 and 1962, they had fifteen US top ten hits, including 'Bye Bye Love' and 'Cathy's Clown'. The duo called it quits during a performance in California in 1973, in which Phil smashed his guitar and walked off stage. During their time apart, both pursued solo careers with limited success. They reunited a decade later with a concert in London, followed by a comeback LP. In a 1986 interview with the Associated Press news agency, Don Everly said the two were successful because 'we never followed trends. We did what we liked and followed our instincts. Rock 'n' roll did survive and we were right about that. Country did survive and we were right about that. You can mix the two but people said we couldn't,' he said. The Everly Brothers were elected to the Rock and/or Roll Hall of Fame in its first year, 1986 and they were given a lifetime achievement award at the Grammys in 1997. Rolling Stain magazine has described them as 'the most important vocal duo in rock.' Phil Everly died of pulmonary disease in 2014, aged seventy four. 

It has been something of a wee while since the last From The North bloggerisationisms update, dear blog readers. For many and for varied reasons, let it here be noted. Not least was the fact that yer actual Keith Telly Topping was feeling well-poorly for several days last week. Which meant, among other things, that he was forced to miss meeting up with his good chum Mick The Mod on Sunday before (and after) Mick ran in The Great North Run. Sadly, the dreaded lurgy (one of the more non-lethal-but-still-nasty variants thereof) hit, big-style, in the area of The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House that very weekend. Occasioning this blogger to, instead of taking in the the sights, sounds and smells of forty thousand people running through the streets of this here fair city, sitting in his gaff aal snotty and feeling discombobulated and very sorry for himself indeed. Life, dear blog reader, do not talk to this blogger about life. Unless you want a geet-hard punch up the bracket, obviously.

And, jolly nice it was, too - good food accompanied by a couple of nice (non-alcoholic) drinks and some proper convivial - extremely wide-ranging - conversation. Which included, in no particular order (and, the list is by no means inclusive), Power Play (1978); Tom Baker's film career; Girl In The Headlines (1963); the deficiencies of Michael Foot's leadership of the Labour Party and how Dennis Healey's defeat of Tony Benn to be Labour's deputy leader in 1980 denied the SDP-Liberal alliance a fair bit of support they might've, otherwise, enjoyed; Death Line (1972); The Aristocats (1970, the first movie that both yer actual Keith Telly Topping and Young Malcolm saw in a cinema - though not in the same cinema ... or even the same year); The Corpse (1970) and this blogger's one meeting with its author, the late, great Olaf Pooley; Kermode & Mayo's Film Review Show on 5Live; the films of Robert Hartford-Davies; Keith Telly Topping's other blog; ITV4; The Champions - and Sharron Macready being the first woman (apart from his mother) that this blogger ever gave his total, unconditional love to; Talking Pictures; Vice Squad (1982); what were the biggest (and second biggest) grossing movies in the UK in 1971; this blogger's many and various Facebook shenanigans (still unfixed as of the time of writing if you're at all interested); the 'echo chamber' nature of much social media; The Jungle Book (1967); the connection between The Be-Atles (a popular beat combo of the 1960s, you might've heard of them) and The Adventures Of Robin Hood (easy. You have to get up pretty early in the morning to catch this blogger out on a piece of Be-Atles-related trivia, Young Malcolm); the source of the information behind the Norrie Paramour hatchet-job on the first episode of That Was The Week That Was; this blogger being one of the five people in the country who once owned a BSB 'squarial'; the infamous BSB 'Doctor Who Weekend' in which they managed to broadcast the two episodes of The Edge Of Destruction in the wrong order; Lonnie Donegan's career and influence of British pop-music post-1957; the first non-musical soundtrack LP to be released; Roman Polanski's MacBeth (1970) and Keith Chegwin's role in it; the way that just as yer actual Keith Telly Topping tends to base how good a Sherlock Holmes adaptation is on the portrayal of John Watson, so his appreciation (or, otherwise) of all versions of MacBeth rather depends upon how The Weird Sisters are played; Pete and Dud's The Hound Of The Baskervilles (1977); Des Lyman's The Generation Game; the lack of good ITV sitcoms in the 1970s; who is likely to be the next Doctor; this blogger's singular lack of appreciation of David Jason's career post-Do Not Adjust Your Set (apart, maybe, from A Sharp Intake Of Breath); Robert Lindsay; Ronnie Kray's, ahem, friendship with Bob Boothby and Tom Driberg, et cetera, et cetera. You really had to be there, dear blog reader.

After a gentle, post-lunch walk back into town and a quick visit to HMV, this blogger and Young Malcolm decided that it would be a really good idea to do all this again early next month, perhaps also taking in a showing of the forthcoming (and, much delayed) Bond movie at the local multiplex. So, that should be pure dead two-thousand-mill edge and such malarkey.

The actress Tanya Fear has been found in Los Angeles after being reported missing last week. A spokesperson for the Los Angeles Police Department told the BBC that the thirty one-year-old was 'safe.' They would not provide further details. A statement said the actress's family were 'relieved and extremely grateful.' Tanya appeared in - and was very good in - a 2018 episode of Doctor Who, Arachnids In The UK. Friends and family said she had last been seen on Thursday. According to the FindTanyaFear Twitter account, which is described as being run by her family, the actress left her Hollywood apartment without her phone or purse and was last seen at 22:00 local time that day. Her uncle had said the family were 'deeply worried.' A statement posted on Twitter on Monday thanked police and members of the public for their efforts in locating the actress and 'the outpouring of concern and support over the last several days. We understand she is not physically harmed, but as a precaution, is being assessed at a local hospital,' it said. The actress, whose full name is Tanyaradzwa Fear, has also appeared in Spotless, Endeavour, DCI Banks and Midsomer Murders. She was seen in the movie Kick-Ass 2 and had recently started doing stand-up comedy.

After a period of new drama appearing as an endangered species on the Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House gogglebox, how splendid it has been over the last week to have the return of not one, but two of yer actual Keith Telly Topping's smartest examples of the strand, From The North favourites Endeavour and The Brokenwood Mysteries. Which is nice.

Series thirteen of Doctor Who is set to return to our screens this year, with Jodie Whittaker taking on the Time Lord mantle one last time before she exits the BBC's popular long-running family SF drama. Apart from the three episode's that she will be making next year, obviously. Joining Jodie for her final series of TARDIS adventures is Large-Toothed Scouse comedian John Bishop as The Doctor's new companion, Dan Lewis. And, in an interview published in Doctor Who Magazine, Bish had nothing by praise for the 'phenomenal' Whittaker and co-star Mandip Gill. 'They've been great to work with,' he said. 'So welcoming and really supportive, particularly to someone like me who's not done a run on a series like this before. I know everyone knows it, but as everyone says, Jodie is phenomenal.' He added: 'The way she carries this show - the amount of responsibility that she wears so lightly on her shoulders - is staggering. The run's coming to an end soon and we were all talking earlier about how weird it will be not seeing each other every week.' Showrunner Chris Chibnall will also be exiting the show after the upcoming thirteenth series and the 2022 trio of specials, but not before he brings back 'truly iconic enemies' from Doctor Who's past. Bishop is not the only new face joining the Doctor Who cast, as Game Of Thrones' Jacob Anderson has also been confirmed, though not much is known about his character other than his name - Vinder.

An irrepressible and immensely likeable personality, Sarah Harding, who has died at the age of thirty nine, helped Girls Aloud - a particular favourite of this blogger - become Britain's biggest-selling girl group of the Twenty First Century, but also had a 'wild child' reputation and a turbulent personal life. Harding's natural warmth, energy and glamour were key parts of the chemistry which helped Girls Aloud blew a breath of fresh air through the charts. Her vocal capabilities and wide-eyed exuberance were put in the national spotlight on 2002 TV talent show Popstars: The Rivals. When judge Louis Walsh rebuked the twenty-year-old for failing to remember dance moves in one episode, her excuse was: 'I'm too much of a loon.' When Walsh then told her she was through to the next round anyway, she proved herself right by hugging him, skipping into the corridor screaming, jumping into two peoples' arms and collapsing on the floor. Wearing her emotions on her sleeve endeared Harding to viewers. In the final, five spots in the band were up for grabs. Cheryl Tweedy, Nicola Roberts, Kimberley Walsh and Nadine Coyle had all been told they were in - meaning it was between Harding and Javine Hylton for the last place. When Harding's name was read out, she staggered, sobbing uncontrollably, to sit alongside her new bandmates. Hylton had been the bookies' favourite and the result was such a surprise that ITV launched a brief investigation into the voting - but no irregularities were found. Three weeks later, Girls Aloud were number one. They were the first band to have a Christmas chart-topper with their debut single and the first girl group to debut at number one. It helped that the song, 'Sound Of The Underground', was one of the best and most innovative pop songs of the decade. 'They landed in a gulf in a drab pop landscape,' wrote the Toryraph's Alice Vincent in 2017. Against that backdrop the tune 'almost tore a hole in the space-time continuum,' declared the Gruniad Morning Star's Michael Cragg. It was the first of four UK number ones and twenty one top ten hits over the course of a decade. Girls Aloud's other slices of pop brilliance, crafted by writers and producers Xenomania, included 'I'll Stand By You' (2004), 'Biology' (2005), the glorious 'Something Kinda Ooh' (2006), this blogger's particular favourite 'Call The Shots' (2007) and 'The Promise' (2008). In fact, a couple of dodgy covers which were forced upon them (notably, a truly terrible version of Dee C Lee's 'See The Day') aside, a Girls Aloud single was, usually, a thing of rare beauty and perfect for throwing shapes to at the local discothèque. 'The Promise' earned the band a Brit Award for best single. The success fulfilled a dream Harding had held since her father, a session musician, started taking her into recording studios when she was three years old. 'It was all I wanted to do,' she told the Sun. 'I always loved being the centre of attention and ever since I can remember I've wanted to be a star.' Harding was born Sarah Hardman in November 1981 in Ascot and moved with her family to Stockport at the age of fourteen. But she struggled to settle in at her new school and dropped out before taking her GCSEs. She gigged in pubs, clubs and caravan parks around the North-West and North Wales and formed her own short-lived girl group. She also signed with an Italian label to sing on dance tunes - only to get cold feet three days before she was due to fly out. At college she studied hair and beauty and did jobs ranging from pizza deliveries to directory enquiries. It was while working in a bar that she applied for Popstars: The Rivals. Despite her grounding in music, Harding had little idea about what to expect from stardom. 'These days there is a lot more talent coming out of shows like that, so people are now partly aware of what is going to happen,' she told the Daily Lies in 2015. 'With social media, you kind of see what is coming. We didn't have all that back in the day.' A nickname, Hardcore Harding, was coined by her karate teacher because 'she's left loads of men injured' - but it also suited her party lifestyle. Her twenties were 'all heartbreaks and hangovers,' she once said. 'I was young and naïve and played up to my lairy [sic] character,' she told the Sun. 'It overshadowed the real me. I used to think I was Liam Gallagher, flicking the Vs at the camera, thinking I was rock 'n' roll,' she added. As for the heartbreaks, her boyfriends included Calum Best, TV presenter Steve Jones, producer Mark Foster, actor Danny Dyer and DJ Tom Crane, to whom she was engaged. After her four-year relationship with Crane broke down in 2011, she went into rehab for depression and alcohol addiction. 'I've been to hell and back,' she said at the time. 'I'm just glad I survived.' She told another interviewer: 'The drinking was more to give me more confidence, especially when I was going through my little wild-child stage.' But her lifestyle calmed down in her thirties and she enthused about how she preferred tending her vegetable patch in her Buckinghamshire garden to partying. Girls Aloud reassembled for their tenth anniversary in 2012 only to part ways again the following year, having sold a total of over eight million singles and CDs. Explaining the band dynamic to Look magazine after the split, Harding said: 'Me and Nadine are more music orientated - more vocals - and the other three are more about dancing. I'd put my foot down about the music side of things. Nicola was more about the clothes. Choreography is Cheryl's forte. When there's five of you, it's difficult to have a say in everything. I'm looking forward to having more control.' By that time, the other four had all launched solo careers to various degrees of success (or, lack of it). Harding started work on hers in 2011, but ditched the songs and started again a few years later with more input into the songwriting. 'This is my angry song but there's some real heartbreak stuff that I've written,' she said of her debut solo single 'Threads', which came out in 2015. It missed the charts, however and her solo career was over almost before it had begun. Harding got into acting, appearing opposite Dominic Cooper, Rosamund Pike and Riz Ahmed in the 2009 BBC drama Freefall. She appeared in - and, was rather good in - St Trinian's 2: The Legend Of Fritton's Gold the same year and acted alongside Dyer and Denise van Outen in the colossal 2012 flop Run For Your Wife, though that film's many, many failing were hardly her fault. Coronation Street signed her up for four episodes in 2015 and she took part in such other TV shows as Celebrity Masterchef, the BBC's gymnastics contest Tumble - where she came second - and Channel Four's alpine fiasco The Jump. She dropped out of the latter after sustaining a ligament injury (something of a running, or rather, limping, theme with contestants on The Jump). Later that year, she blamed the injury for her withdrawal from her theatre debut in Ghost: The Musical, which had received poor reviews. 'I've been in constant pain with my knee injury,' she said. 'It can take a massive toll on your mental as well as physical well-being.' In 2017 she went into the Z-List Celebrity Big Brother house and emerged as the winner. Harding then retreated from the limelight, only re-emerging in August 2020 to deliver the devastating news that she had been diagnosed with breast cancer. In March 2021, an early extract from her memoir, Hear Me Out, revealed doctors had told her she wouldn't see another Christmas. She wrote she was 'trying to live and enjoy every second of my life, however long it might be.' The book also revealed that all five members of Girls Aloud had been reunited behind closed doors in the wake of her diagnosis. Harding admitted that she was anxious about them all seeing her looking 'bloated' due to the steroid treatment she was on, and having lost her eyelashes due to chemotherapy. 'It's not that I thought they wouldn't understand or be judgmental, of course; it's just that when we were together as a group, part of our thing was the glamour,' she wrote. While back together, the ex-bandmates watched the 2006 E4 documentary series Girls Aloud: Off the Record, 'laughing' and 'cringing' at their old antics. 'I have to say, I looked on fondly,' wrote Harding. '"You only miss this when it's gone," I told the girls.'

It is very difficult to separate the character of the eponymous hero of the television series Lou Grant (1977 to 1982) from the actor who played him. Ed Asner, who has died aged ninety one, will always be associated with the irascible but kindly crusading editor of the Los Angeles Tribune, although he had a career that stretched back to the 1950s and continued long after Lou Grant was cancelled. While the show was running, Asner was an outspoken activist against US support of the sick right-wing scumbag junta in El Salvador. He stood on the steps of the state department to announce the formation of Medical Aid for El Salvador and presented the first twenty five thousand dollar relief cheque for war-ravaged communities there. Dozens of sick right-wing scumbag organisations asked their members to boycott the products that sponsored the show. As sick right-wing scumabgs tend to do. Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose. Asner was also twice elected head of the Screen Actors Guild, a position that he frequently used as a forum for his political opinions, which brought him into conflict with Charlton Heston, who took over from Asner in a highly publicised power-play. 'My presidency of the Screen Actors Guild, coupled at the same time with being one of the founding members of Medical Aid for El Salvador, created a conflict which eventually led to the cancellation of the Lou Grant show,' he wrote. 'It was 1982, the height of Reagan power.' It all sounds like the plot of an episode of Lou Grant, in which, at Lou's instigation, star reporters Joe Rossi (Robert Walden) and Billie Newman (Linda Kelsey) gathered facts about how pressure groups forced a TV network to cancel a show because of the political leanings of its star. Many of the groundbreaking show's themes reflected Asner's views. Among the controversial issues it covered were abortion, prostitution, child pornography, racism, homophobia, the negative treatment of Native Americans, Viet'nam vets, Vietnamese immigrants, illegal aliens, US support of military juntas in South and Central America, big business corruption and third world dumping. Looking back, it is a wonder the show lasted five years and that Asner remained a star and in work. Indeed, his newfound fame as Grant did not, initially, gain him many roles on the big screen. Years later, Asner commented, 'I still find resistance to putting me in movies. I'm not sure whether it's a combination of so much TV in my life or my recognition as Lou Grant so intensively that they hoped to bury me within the wrappings of a character. They're much more afraid to cast me than they are in television. Also, I'm not a leading man, so it would be a harder sell.' Asner had originally appeared as the Lou Grant character in The Mary Tyler Moore Show in 1970. An eminent ex-journalist, Grant was the macho news show producer at WJM-TV. Sometimes he was the exasperated boss, sometimes the wise counsellor, traits Asner carried over from the sitcom to the spin-off drama series. Added to this, Asner transformed the comic persona into a serious newsman, uncompromising in his defence of press freedom and, despite his gruff exterior, genuinely caring about people. Asner was born in Kansas City, Missouri, into a traditional Orthodox Jewish family, the son of Lizzie and Morris Asner, a poor immigrant junk man who described himself to his friends as being in the 'used materials business.' Theirs was the only Jewish family in the neighbourhood, so the young Ed learned to defend himself both vocally and physically. He played football in high school and organised a basketball team which toured much of liberated Europe. After moving to Chicago in the 1950s, he was briefly a member of The Playwrights Theatre Club until he went to New York to try his luck. There, from 1954 to 1957, he appeared as Mister Peachum in the off-Broadway production of Bertolt Brecht and Kurt Weill's The Threepenny Opera, in a cast which starred Weill's widow Lotte Lenya. In the early 1960s, on television, he profited from his physical resemblance to the stereotyped view of KGB types during the spy-show boom. At the same time, he started to appear in feature films in secondary roles, mostly as policemen. It was while playing a streetwise police lieutenant in Elvis Presley's last - and, by a distance, worst - feature film, Change Of Habit (1969), that he met Mary Tyler Moore. The latter played a nun who at one point stages a sit-in at a grocery store because the prices are unfair. When Asner refuses to arrest her, she shrieks, 'Police brutality!' In 1970, despite Moore's initial reluctance (she was not certain he was funny enough), Asner was cast as Lou Grant in The Mary Tyler Moore Show which ran for seven series and for which he won three EMMY awards. Among the few substantial roles he had in feature films were a slave trader in Skin Game (1971); an owner of a football team which includes a Yugoslav mule in Gus (1976); a tough cop, second billed to Paul Newman, in Fort Apache, The Bronx (1981); a faithful widower in communication with the ghost of his wife in O'Hara's Wife (1982) and as a lawyer defending a couple accused of treason in Sidney Lumet's Daniel (1983). Asner continued to appear regularly on television, taking on two weekly sitcoms, Hearts Afire (1992 to 1993) and Thunder Alley (1994to 1995), atypically cast in the latter as an ineffective grouch who is easily dominated by his daughter and grandchildren. At the same time, Asner started to get a lot of work as a voice actor on animated TV series (Batman, Spider-Man, Superman, Zorro, The Boondocks, Gargoyles and The Cleveland Show, for example) and animated features, notably Up (2009), beautifully exploiting the gruff persona that was the protective stance of a private, sensitive person. Despite his being cast so often as a curmudgeon, it might seem paradoxical that he played Santa Claus a number of times, most famously in Elf (2003). As a member of the Democratic Socialists of America, he remained outspoken in a very conservative industry. 'Socialist means a thing that will curb the excesses of capitalism: the increasing wealth of the rich and decreasing wealth of the poor,' he said. 'I'd like to see a national guarantee of health, a national guarantee of education (through college), fair housing and sufficient food.'Asner had two daughters and a son from his first marriage, to Nancy Sykes, which ended in divorce and a son from a relationship with Carol Jean Vogelman.

Former France footballer Jean-Pierre Adams, who had been in a coma for thirty nine years, has died at the age of seventy three. Adams was admitted to hospital for knee surgery in March 1982 but never regained consciousness after an error with his supply of anaesthetic. Born in Senegal, the defender made more than one hundred and forty appearances for Nice and also played for Paris St-Germain. In a statement, PSG said Adams''joie de vivre, charisma and experience commanded respect.' Nice said the club would pay tribute to Adams - who won twenty two caps for the French national side between 1972 and 1976 - before their next home game against Monaco on 19 September. Adams also made eighty four appearances for Nimes, who said they were sending their 'most sincere condolences to his loved ones and his family.' On the day of Adams' operation to repair a damaged tendon in his knee - suffered whilst on a coaching training camp - many staff at the hospital in Lyon were on strike. His operation still went ahead, with the anaesthetist looking after eight patients, including Adams, at the same time. Adams was supervised by a trainee, who later said: 'I was not up to the task I was entrusted with.' Between the anaesthetist and trainee, numerous errors were made, causing Adams to suffer a cardiac arrest and brain damage. It wasn't until the mid-1990s that the anaesthetist and trainee were punished - a one-month suspended sentence and a seventy hundred and fifty Euro fine. Adams was discharged from hospital after fifteen months and had been cared for at home in Nimes by his wife, Bernadette, ever since.

Screenwriter, producer and all-round top-bloke yer actual Russell Davies is to take charge again of Doctor Who, the BBC's popular, long-running family SF drama which he helped to revive so successfully in 2005. Big Rusty, who was the drama's showrunner until 2009, will take over when Chris Chibnall departs next year. 'I'm beyond excited to be back on my favourite show,' said Davies (seen below, auditioning successfully for the role of Batman), who resumes his role as the Doctor Who prepares to mark its sixtieth anniversary in 2023. 

One of Big Rusty's first responsibilities will be to decide who will take over the TARDIS controls following Jodie Whittaker's exit. The actress is set to hang up her Sonic Screwdriver and get back into some normal clothes after one further six-part series to be broadcast later this year and then three 2022 specials. In a statement, Davies said it would be 'time-travelling too fast' to speculate at this early stage as to what will actually happen when he returns to the production. Not, as this blogger has noted previously, that such a detail will stop much idle, ill-informed, crass and downright daft speculation being publishing in the popular media, argued over on the Interweb or talked about, loudly, in pubs. Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose, dear blog reader. 'There's a whole series of Jodie Whittaker's brilliant Doctor for me to enjoy, with my friend and hero Chris Chibnall at the helm,' Rusty continued. 'I'm still a viewer. For now.' Chibnall his very self said it was 'monumentally exciting and fitting' that Davies would be back in charge for the series' sixtieth birthday. 'Russell built the baton that is about to be handed back to him,' the current showrunner and producer continued. 

    Davies revived Doctor Who in its current incarnation with Christopher Eccleston as The Doctor and remained for David Tennant's three year tenure in the lead role, leaving after Tennant's final 2009 episode, The End Of Time (Part 2). You knew all that, right? And, if you didn't, what the Hell are you doing reading this blog? Steven Moffat (or, 'Moffatt' at the BBC News website insist on renaming him) took over when Matt Smith assumed the role in 2010, staying on for Peter Capaldi's stint as TV's indefatigable Time Lord, including supervising the astonishingly successful fiftieth anniversary celebrations in 2013. The success of Doctor Who's relaunch led Davies to create two spin-off shows, Torchwood - which was quite good, in parts - and Sarah Jane Interferes - which really wasn't. 

    'It's nearly eighteen years to the day since the BBC announced that Doctor Who was returning, more than a decade after it was axed,' wrote the BBC's entertainment correspondent, the very Lizo Mzimba. 'No Doctor or companion had yet been cast, but it was confirmed that Russell T Davies would be in charge of the show. At the time, the lifelong Doctor Who fan was best known as the writer of Queer As Folk (he even managed to briefly squeeze robot dog K9 into the series).' Few within the TV industry, Lizo added, predicted just how bigly large the revival would become upon its return and Davies is the man credited with much of that success. As showrunner he oversaw every creative aspect of the popular long-running family SF drama, wrote many of its scripts and was an exceptionally hands-on executive producer; the book The Writer's Tale (reviewed on this blog back in 2008), a diary of daily e-mails and text messages between Davies and the journalist Benjamin Cook, details the astonishing attention-to-detail Davies gave to almost every part of the show, from approving merchandise designs to overseeing the plans for media events. Rusty's unexpected return to the show has delighted many, this blogger very much included. Not least because he once stood next to Russell at a Virgin writer's event in London and was asked to (and, indeed, did) pass the future Doctor Who showrunner the vodka and orange he was drinking at the time. Few moments in this blogger's life have come close to that and he's dined out on that story for decades. 

With the exception of the 1996 Doctor Who TV movie with Paul McGann, Doctor Who has always been produced in-house, purely by the BBC. But from 2023 it will be a co-production with Bad Wolf. The production house was founded by Jane Tranter and Julie Gardner who worked alongside Davies during his time on Doctor Who. Tranter was the BBC's head of drama, Gardner was an executive producer on the show. Both are seen as less high profile, but still crucially important parts of Doctor Who's previous success. After leaving the show in 2009, Davies enjoyed more acclaim with the dramas Years & Years, A Very English Scandal and It's A Sin. He also created Cucumber (which wasn't very good), Aliens Versus Wizards (ditto) and Old Jack's Boat (which was quite sweet). Piers Wenger, the BBC's director of drama, said the news of Davies' return would 'delight Doctor Who fans across the globe.' Especially, perhaps, all of the ones who whinged about him on a weekly basis between 2005 and 2009 and then, the second he was gone, spent much time and effort longing for 'the good old days' when he was in the job. (Steven Moffat is currently, also going under a similar 'you don't know what you've got till its gone' reassessment by large chunks of The Special People. Some of us, dear blog reader, always appreciated what we had, when we had it.) 'We are thrilled that Russell is returning to Doctor Who to build on the huge achievements of Chris and Jodie,' Wenger continued. 'Russell, it's wonderful to have you back.' 

       Yeah. What he said.  

So, dear blog reader, as Keith Telly Topping mentioned in the last-but-oneFrom The North bloggerisationisms update, Tuesday of this week had been pencilled-in for this blogger's second post-lockdown cinema visit, this time for to see No Time To Die. And, it being a horrible, miserable, rainy day notwithstanding that is, indeed, what occurred. Just thought you'd be interested.

Given that Diamonds Are Forever was the fourth movie that this blogger was ever taken to see as a both shaken-and-stirred eight year old and, two years later, Live & Let Die was the seventh, attending a new Bond flick a few days after its opening was hardly a significantly out-of-character step for this blogger to have taken. And, thus it was that - with his beast fiend and fellow life-long Bond devotee, Young Malcolm - this blogger attended a shortly-after-1pm screening (half-an-hour's worth of adverts and trailers being an unwanted necessity) of the twenty fifth film in the most successful movie franchise of all time at Newcastle's Cineworld multiplex in The Gate. Which was nice.

The short review, of course, is that this blogger thought it was great. Which, he trusts, is as little a surprise to you, dear blog reader, as it was/is to him. Especially given that the reviews - at least from most UK critics - have been, by and large, wildly positive and that the opening weekend's takings were astronomical; something to which this blogger has now contributed. A few, slightly more verbose, comments need to be made to go with 'Keith Telly Topping thought it was great,' however. (If you're wondering, Young Malcolm expressed the opinion that he thoroughly enjoyed it, too.) Firstly, the length: In common with just about every Bond movie since the mid-sixties, No Time To Die was overlong. At one hundred and sixty three minutes, a good half-an-hour too long. As has been the case with, again, just about every Bond movie in some considerable time, it could easily have done with losing twenty minutes or so, at least - this blogger even extends this observation to the shortest Bond movie in living memory, A Quantum Of Solace which, at one hundred and seven minutes, was still at least twenty minutes too long. Actually, in that particular case, it was about one hundred and seven minutes too long.) From The North favourite and Britain's finest film reviewer Mark Kermode has often commented in the past that any movie which is longer than one hundred and forty one minutes needs to work really hard to justify its existence. The reason being that one hundred and forty one minutes is the length of 2001: A Space Odyssey and, in that movie, Stanley Kubrick managed to go from The Dawn Of Civilisation to the birth of a new species. Thus, if you're spending more than two hours and twenty one minutes establishing your narrative, make sure you don't pad it to buggery. (Mark, incidentally, lovedNo Time To Die, with a few, minor, reservations and, so did his mate, Simon Mayo, as you can discover, here.) So, yeah, it was a bit too long. Then again, so was The Spy Who Loved Me. So was The Living Daylights and Goldeneye and Skyfall. All four of those are also great and, to repeat, so is No Time To Die - and, unlike in the case of Skyfall where the obvious twenty minutes to cut was the entire Macau subplot, in No Time To Die there was no blindingly obvious, 'the movie would've lost nothing if they'd cut that bit' which stuck out like a sore thumb. So, for once, ending the movie with a jolly numb bum and having to rub ones legs vigorously to get them working again as the titles rolled was a small price to pay.

The screenplay by series regulars Neal Purvis and Robert Wade, the director Cary Joji Fukunaga and From The North favourite, the excellent Phoebe Waller-Bridge managed to avoid a common problem with scripts written by committee, that is feeling like a script written by committee. One or two reviews - included Kermode's mentioned above - have suggested that the movie was rather 'set-piecey' shifting the narrative all over the place in a series of individual subplots, some of which seemed to have little obvious link to other aspects of the overall plot. This blogger doesn't buy that. If there's one thing that No Time To Die did really well, it was make the audience follow the narrative with an economy that isn't always there in a Bond film (I'm looking at you, Tomorrow Never Dies). One thing which this blogger does agree with yer man Kermode about (other than the fact that it was great) was the suggestion that Waller-Bridge's contributions had mainly been to provide the - often superb - comedy zingers and general pith at which the movie excels. It's perfectly possible that she did but that rather undermines a fine author who, as her astonishing work of the first series of Killing Eve proved, can write action and drama just as well as she writes sharp, sarky dialogue and excellent one-liners. That said, is it wrong to be utterly convinced - as this blogger is - that the entire Bond-in-Cuba sequence featuring the brilliant Paloma (Ana de Armas), possibly the best new Bond character in half-a-dozen movies, was largely the work of Pheebs her very self? Elsewhere, as usual Ben Wishaw gets most of the dryly pithy lines (well, at least, the ones that Rory Kinnear doesn't get). And, in just a couple of scenes, Christoph Waltz was given the opportunity, once-again, to do his wonderfully entertaining so-far-over-the-open-he's-down-the-other-side routine with aplomb. Which certainly helped to make up for a curious lack of humour in the film's main villain, played with just the right degree of nostril-flaring, eye-rolling, scenery-chewing intensity by Rami Malek.

The music was pretty good - Billie Eilish's theme song was obviously going for the Adele, Skyfall, 'you can sort-of imagine Dame Shirley belting this one out in Studio One at Abbey Road' vibe and, for the most part, succeeded. No, it's not the most memorable Bond theme of recent vintage, although it's in a different league to Sheryl Crow, Jack White and Alysia Keys, Madonna and Duran Duran. Let's face it, dear blog reader, Bond themes tend to age gracefully or be utterly forgettable. We're probably never going to get another 'Diamonds Or Forever' or 'Live & Let Die' or 'Nobody Does It Better' (much less another 'Goldfinger' or 'You Only Live Twice'). But, so long as we don't get too many 'All Time High's or 'View To A Kill's then we can, at least, think 'hmmm ... the song's okay, oh, it's finished, the movie's started.' Hans Zimmer's score was really rather good - heavily influenced (as with several aspects of the plot, if that isn't too much of a spoiler for those who have yet to see the movie) by one of John Barry's greatest hits, On Her Majesty's Secret Service. The guitar work - by From The North favourite Johnny Marr - was particularly impressive.

Bits this blogger particularly liked: The portraits of Judi Dench and Robert Brown in MI6 (one presumes there was also one of Bernard Lee in there somewhere). The fact that, unlike in, say, The World Is Not Enough, they managed to construct a pre-title sequence in under forty minutes. Just. The entire Cuba sequence (especially the bit with the hidden tuxedo). Bond and Moneypenny interrupting Q's evening of 'entertaining' (and Q's very poor attempts at convincing M he's surprised to see Bond alive and well). The Bond-Blofeld scene in Belmarsh. The Bond-Nomi's verbal duelling. A nice cameo for Hugh Dennis. Madeleine's lethal use of a cup of tea. The moment when James didn't say 'this never happened to the other fellah(s)' as something quite unexpected happened five minutes before the end. The last scene. 

       Bits that made this blogger go 'hmmm': The fact that, according to her grave, Vespa Lynd was twenty two or twenty three at the time of Casino Royale (Eva Green was twenty seven and she looked it!) David Denick's 'wacky minor Russian villain' who manages to say 'Chames Bondt' twice without sounding remotely convincing. The glider. But, they're minor points, really. Once again, at the risk of sounding like a broken record, this blogger thought it was great. And, among the best things in it was Danny Craig who, yet again, played a Bond used to loss, heartbreak, pain and suffering. A Bond that, let us remember, more than a few planks back in 2005 - sight-unseen - took issue with. Four of Craig's five Bond movies have been utterly terrific, for many different reasons but, always, because of him (and, with regard to A Question Of Sport, he wasn't in any way the reason that particular pile of rancid diarrhoea didn't work). Whomsoever has the job of replacing him in the franchise has big boots to fill. One doesn't envy the responsibility that the next owner of the hardest working libido in the intelligence service will face. But, importantly, James Bond will return. And, he will return with a clean slate as well as a new face. MI6's Time Lord's next regeneration is going to be fascinating to observe.

So, dear blog reader, just to repeat yet again, this blogger thought No Time To Die was great. Not Danny's best (Skyfall still ,just about takes that honour), but right up there with Casino Royale and Spectre. And From Russia With Love. And The Spy Who Loved Me. And The Living Daylights. And On Her Majesty's Secret Service. A film about a blunt instrument who does what is necessary when a trigger needs to be pulled. Someone once told him 'names is for tombstones, baby.' For a man who faces such an ending every day, James Bond has had a remarkable run. And, he's still running. Shaken, maybe but never, ever, stirred. 

One of the - few - highlights of sitting through half-an-hour of annoying adverts was the first opportunity to watch the trailer for Edgar Wright's forthcoming Swinging London psychological horror movie Last Night In Soho which opens in the UK at the end of this month. This blogger has been eagerly anticipating this movie for a long time (so long, in fact, that Matt Smith was probably still The Doctor when it was first announced!) With a cast that includes Smudger his very self, Anya Taylor-Joy, the Godlike Genius that is Terence Stamp and, in her final big screen role, Diana Rigg even without having the director of Hot Fuzz behind the camera it would probably be worthwhile. This blogger and Young Malcolm decided, of an instant, this this would be our next joint trip to the flicks. Again, it's had some startlingly good reviews from the likes of the Torygraph and Gruniad (and one sniffy one from some prick of no importance at Vanity Fair). So, this blogger is really looking forward to that. 

'What is it you're saving them from?''You don't know?''I've been busy.''The Flux.''What's The Flux?''A hurricane ripping through the structure of this universe disrupting every particle, the falling of the structure of the universe. A cataclysm of unknown proportions or patterns. We don't know for sure.''And when is this Flux supposed to happen?''It's already begun.'
'What was it he said? "The final few hours of planet Earth?" He doesn't get rid of us that easily!'
'Renewed at last.''What have you done?''I waited ... Your time is done, as mine has begun once more.'
'What's the matter with me? I'm not the one breaking into people's houses dressed as a dog.'
'Look at your little brain trying to work it all out. Embarrassing.'
'A quick check on my mind, I had a little ... glitch earlier!'
'Nothing ever changes. But then, you know that.'
'I must admit, Yaz, I can't help feeling some of this is my fault!'
'Why is this thought in my mind?''What thought?''Thank you.'
'What's the matter with Sheffield?''It's too near Leeds!'
'Also, one other thing is bugging me, a tiny detail. Why does Dan have such a flashy computer?''Because, it's not his!'
'Don't be throwin' eggs at my 'ouse!' Well dear blog reader, what do you know? This blogger actually thought that was great. Which is, in fact, far more unusual than even long-term From The North dear blog readers may have thought. Primarily because, this blogger had avoided all pre-series publicity and trailers and, as a consequence, knew not what to expect from The Halloween Apocalypse. Apart from the presence of large-toothed wacky Scouse funster John Bishop, obviously - we've all known that was happening since New Year's Day. So, anyway - as The Clash once asked, what do we have for entertainment? We have - and the list is not all-encompassing - Weeping Angels, Sontarans, Dog-Faced shooty-type individuals, Green-Skinned (and, now, very dead) aliens, the Cloister Bell, a spooky house, an ancient (but, entirely unknown to The Doctor) enemy, something up with the TARDIS doors and a properly outrageous, 'get out of that one' cliffhanger ... What's not to love?
'The end of the universe. I always wondered what it would feel like!'Doctor Who, dear blog reader. It never ceased to amaze this blogger.

Welcome, dearest bloggerisationism readers, to a somewhat shorter-than-usual From The North update. This blogger has been rather busy of late with a number of 'real-world'-type scenarios including a series of annual medical appointments (all of which were fine, if you're interested), a cracked tooth (which isn't fine but, hopefully, will be in a couple of weeks once this blogger has managed to get a dental appointment) and various other assorted shenanigans, malarkey and snarly-hoojar. Keith Telly Topping's life, dear blog reader, is a never-ending fiasco of stuff and, you know, more stuff. Anyway, on with the show. On Tuesday of this week, as threatened in a previous bloggerisationism update, this blogger - together with his beast fiend Young Malcolm - went to The Gate to see Edgar Wright's long-anticipated flick, Last Night In Soho. This blogger, as if there would be any doubt in such matters, though it was bloody great. 'This is London. Someone has died in every room and every building and on every street corner in the city.'
A proper, full-on horror movie which could only have been improved in that department if it'd had a Hammer logo at the end of it! Edgar produced what is, probably, his most personal and easily identifiable movie (and, considering how much this blogger adores The Cornetto Trilogy, especially, Hot Fuzz, that's the highest of high praise) full of astonishing imagery and moments which will stay with you for days afterwards. Magnificent performances from Thomasin McKenzie, Anya-Taylor Joy, Matt Smith, Terence Stamp, Pauline McLynn, Rita Tushingham and one, final, outstanding on-screen turn from the late, great Diana Rigg. And - one rather brilliant moment with a Siouxsie & The Banshees tune aside - a stunning Sixties soundtrack ('World Without Love', 'You're My World', 'There's A Ghost In My House', 'Downtown', 'Heatwave'et cetera). As From The North favourite, the BBC's Mark Kermode noted it was 'maximum Edgar Wright ... it taps into some many things that I love, the idea of walking the streets of a town that have the past living in them. I loved the way it starts out as The Amazing Mister Blunden and ends up as a giallo slasher.' Edgar Wright has, reportedly, said that Chris Nolan saw the trailer for Last Night In Soho and told Edgar: 'Wow, it's like you've made Peeping Tom-Meets-Tom's Midnight Garden!' And, Peeping Tom's Midnight Garden is a perfect description of this incredible movie experience. (Sadly, Mark was on holiday from Radio 5's film review show the week Last Night In Soho came out, but he did get to review it on the BBC News channel, whilst his stand-in Anna Bogutskaya also gave it a rave review.) Just to repeat, this blogger thought it was bloody great.
'If we all of us waited to be sent for, we would none of us find our purpose.' Moving swiftly on to the second episode of the current series of From The North favourite, Doctor Who, this blogger also thought that War Of The Sontarans was great. No major surprise there but, after the shocking - and stunning - surprise of The Halloween Apocalypse being 'really rather terrific with no prior expectations', it's nice to see that the series is maintaining a quality of punchable menace mixed with some fabulous comedy (the use of a wok as a Sontaran-disabling weapon, for a kick-off!)
This blogger loved the fact that Dan's parents were introduced, got two really good (and very funny) scenes and then pissed off; which was such a refreshing change from all the companion relatives we've met since Jackie Tyler who just hang around and, occasionally, get given something to do to justify their existence. And, not only was the episode great but then there was the trailer for next Sunday's third installment featuring a spoilerific-but-fantastically-awesome appearance by ... someone (or, actually, several someones). So, it looks like Flux is shaping up to be a kind-of 'Doctor Who's Greatest Hits'-type affair with the added bonus of a sinister atmosphere and a central villain who seems to know more about The Doctor than The Doctor her very self does. 'Time is evil and it will seek its own.' Good grief, even the Gruniad Morning Star liked it.
Next, how excellent it was that this blogger's usual record of watching an episode of From The North favourite Only Connect and guessing the answer to at least one question correct before either of the two teams did was maintained. And, as usual, this week, it was the movie-related question.
A sad note, note: One of this blogger's favourite actors, Clifford Rose, has died at the age of ninety two. Many From The North dear blog readers will know Clifford best from his appearance in Doctor Who in the acclaimed 1981 Tom Baker serial Warriors' Gate (written by Steve Gallagher) where he played Rorvik the captain of the privateer ship that transported the time-sensitive Tharils between dimensions. He was most famous to the wider public for his powerful portrayal of Standartenführer Ludwig Kessler, the ruthless Gestapo officer, in three series of the BBC's Secret Army and then in its less-succssful-but-actually-much-better-than-its-lowly-reputation-suggests sequel, Kessler. 

    Clifford was born in Herefordshire in October 1929. After studying at King's College London he sought a career as an actor appearing in repertory theatre and later as a founding member of the Royal Shakespeare Company. His first TV appearance was in 1959, in an adaptation of Arnold Bennett's Hilda Lessways. Many character roles followed including appearances in series such as Roads To Freedom, Elizabeth R, Callan, Justice, The Pallisers, How Green Was My Valley, Inspector Morse, One By One, Hammer House Of Mystery & Suspense, Reilly: Ace Of Spies, Rooms, Dixon Of Dock Green, Follyfoot, The Troubleshooters, Woodstock and The Devil's Crown. And also in movies like Marat/Sade, Tell Me Lies, Work Is A Four-Letter Word, The Good Father and The Girl. In 1977 he was cast as Sturmbannführer Kessler in Secret Army, the series detailing the work of the prisoner evasion lines which helped Allied pilots escape from occupied Belgium during World War II. It was a powerful multi-layered performance which explored the ruthlessness of the Nazi commander as well as his personal qualities as he fell in love with a Belgium woman. His performance saw the character return in his own spin-off, Kessler, exploring the fate of the character who had reinvented himself as an industrialist in post-war Germany. He later played SS General Kammler in the mini-series War & Remembrance, appeared in Fortunes Of War and played Judge Critchley in Alan Bleasdale's memorable Channel Four drama GBH. Later film appearances included roles in Pirates Of The Caribbean: On Stranger Tides and The Iron Lady and he played the Dean of Windsor in The Crown, his final screen role. He also played King George V in the TV movie Wallis & Edward (2005). In 2008, he appeared in the ITV historical drama Foyle's War. Rose also played The Judge in Enid Bagnold's The Chalk Garden in a production at The Donmar Warehouse for which won The Clarence Derwent Award. A radio adaptation of the staging was broadcast on Radio 3 in 2011. Clifford was married to Celia Ryder from 1957 until her death in 2012. They had two children - Jonathan and Rosalind - and lived in Stratford-upon-Avon.
And finally, dear blog reader, one of the - several - reasons for the shortness of this bloggerisationism update and for this blogger's general lack of online activity of late has been that he's been busy compiling From The North's fourteenth annual Best and Worst TV of the year blog which he is now in the process of putting the finishing touches to. The next From The North bloggerisationism update will, as a consequence, be longer than this. Much longer. Keep your mincers peeled for that one in approximately a week's time.

Given that this week includes World Telvision Day welcome, dear blog reader, to the fourteenth annual From The North TV Awards. Celebrating, in Keith Telly Topping's opinion, the best and worst TV shows broadcast during the past year. In what is rapidly becoming an annual observation, you may notice that there are close to twice as many 'highs' listed here as there are 'lows'. This imbalance is not, necessarily, a reflection of the actual ratio of good-telly-to-bad during 2021. Rather it is because, generally speaking, we tend to remember the good stuff and attempt - only sometimes successfully - to forget about all the depressing, laughter-free and 'unsurprisingly inadequate'faeces broadcast on Dave.

As noted previously, each year when this blogger posts these lists, he usually gets a few e-mails from dear blog readers saying something like 'very good, Keith Telly Topping. But, you missed off [insert own favourite].' Therefore, please note, since answering such comments is always a right flamin' pain in the dong, this blogger has not missed anything. These awards represent what Keith Telly Topping has been watching and enjoying (or, in thirty one cases, vastly disliking) during the past twelve months. If a programme is not mentioned, it is either because this blogger didn't see it (try as he might, this blogger can't watch everything - there aren't enough hours in the day for that) or he did, but didn't consider the show(s) in question worthy of inclusion on any of the lists below. If you disagree, as is your right in a free and democratic society, then by all means you have this blogger's permission to start your own blog and create your own awards lists.
One additional request. Usually, each year, this blogger is able to announce the existence of yet another annual From The North TV Awards update via social media. However, as you may have heard, a combination of some hacking malarkey on this blogger's Facebook page and Facebook's curious disinclination to allow themselves to be contacted over such shenanigans and help put matters to right has, sadly, made normal service impossible. Therefore, if any dear blog readers have read - and enjoyed - this bloggerisation and would like to advertise its existence to others via Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Tinder, The Dark Web or, indeed, writing the website address on a Post-It Note®™ and sticking it in a public place, such a kindness would be greatly appreciated by Keith Telly Topping.
Thus, without any further mucking around or similar delaying tactics ...

Fifty Extra-Primo-Rad Highlights Of Television In 2021:-

1. Mare Of Easttown
Both stunning and believable as a small-town Pennsylvania detective, Kate Winslet has made an unglamorous return to TV, a decade on from her last small-screen appearance in Mildred Pierce. And it marked what may well be a career-best for the actress who has come a long way since From The North 1990s favourite, Dark Season. Set in the hometown region where screenwriter Brad Ingelsby grew up, the seven-episode HBO crime series was, essentially, an old-fashioned whodunnit located within a close-knit blue collar community. One that was weighed down by traumatic events, past and present. The story followed the titular detective, Mare Sheehan, as she investigated the murder of one local girl and the disappearance of another while trying to cope with her own bereavement and divorce. Her personal troubles also include a son lost to suicide and a custody battle with her ex-heroin addict former daughter-in-law over Mare's grandson. Disappearing into the hard-boiled role, complete with an unbroken Delaware county accent, Winslet showed the audience a woman who would do anything to protect her family and who does not suffer fools, gladly or otherwise. Alex Abad-Santos of Voxdescribed Winslet's performance as 'mesmerising,' adding that 'she allows us to see the ugliness Mare is capable of and how obsessive, perhaps even abusive, she can be when she's threatened.' The Wall Street Journal's Dorothy Rabinowitz noted Winslet's 'eloquent command of the role is obvious from the outset.' Ben Travers of IndieWirewrote, 'Winslet's immersed performance could carry a far lesser work by itself,' while adding that her dialect is 'convincing and her physical work is flawless.' Richard Roeper of the Chicago Sun-Timesdeclared, 'Winslet adds to a long list of magnificent, disappear-into-the-character performances ... [with] one of the most resonant of her career.' Caryn James of the BBC Culture website wrote, 'Winslet's ... fierce, ordinary heroine is gloriously real' and described the series as 'a superb and starry crime thriller.' There were red herrings aplenty and jaw-dropping moments that lesser shows would have chosen to end the series on, but aside from the central Twin Peaks-style murder mystery (hidden double lives, strange goings-on in them-there woods), the success of Mare was also a testament to Ingelsby's writing, allowing time for viewers to get to know the characters (many ostensibly peripheral), as Mare and her tough-as-nails mother (Jean Smart) flitted in and out of their neighbours' lives; chatting with a beer around a dinner table, or chasing down every detail to find justice and help a town in turmoil heal. Though intended as a stand-alone series, Winslet stated in August that she would 'love to return' as Mare and that for any potential second series, Ingelsby 'has shared some very cool ideas. We will see what happens. I also have to figure out if I can do it. Can I go through it again?' The winner of four EMMYs, including entirely justified recognition of Winslet's performance, Mare Of Easttown was, if dear blog readers will excuse this blogger a moment of tmesis-based hyperbole, mag-bloody-nificent.
2. Line Of Duty
'No one makes mugs of AC-12.' Jesus, Mary, Joseph and The Wee Donkey but the return of From The North favourite Line Of Duty only went and attracted the largest overnight audience in the BBC police drama's history. The opening episode of series six was watched by almost ten million overnight viewers (with another five million subsequently viewing it on iPlayer). That surpassed the show's previous record for the finale of series five in 2019. Critics heaped praised on the first episode, with the Gruniad Morning Star's Lucy Mangan describing it as 'just as good, if not better, than ever. If it can hold to its successful formula without tipping into parody, if it can find its way back from the H debacle and if it can weave its customarily masterful narrative spell without tying itself or us in knots - then we'll all be sucking diesel.' The Torygraph's usually scowling waste-of-space, That Awful Singh Woman Singh, concurred. 'On this early evidence, this year's offering has more in common with the show's early years,' she wrote. 'The opening scenes were reminiscent of series two (the Keeley Hawes season, possibly the best of them all) as a call came into the station with some urgent information ... Much of its success hangs on the performances of its guest stars like ... Hawes and [Stephen] Graham and the superb Lennie James in series one. It's too early to say if Kelly Macdonald will be among the greats; she has clearly been told to play Davidson as enigmatic. Mercurio ... looks to have given Macdonald an intriguing backstory.' Another From The North ... whatever the opposite of favourite is, some bloke delighting in the name Cumming, writing in the Independent, said: 'After the more outlandish conspiratorial shenanigans of series five, the first episode of series six returns to what Line Of Duty does best: dodgy coppers, tense action and characters who communicate almost exclusively in acronyms. With her signature mix of sweetness and guile, Macdonald is smart casting for a role that will no doubt toy with our sympathies.' But, Carol Midgley, in The Times, proved she doesn't know what the fek she's taking about: 'As a fan girl, it grieves me to sound like a disappointed bride on her wedding night,' she began, before sounding exactly like a disappointed bride on her wedding night. The Evening Standard's Katie Rosseinsky was more keen: 'Opening with a nerve-shredding set piece, an enigmatic central character and a fusillade of acronyms and police-speak (who or what is a chis? What's the PNC? Is 1A on the matrix good or bad? I have precisely no idea and that's part of the fun), this had all the hallmarks of a classic Line Of Duty opener, but never felt like a case of bent coppers-by-numbers. In the best way, it recalled the first episode of the show's superlative second series: could Macdonald's intriguing, softly-spoken Davidson become an anti-hero to rival Keeley Hawes' Lindsay Denton?' This blogger, for what it's worth, thought it was great. The ambiguous ending left open the possibility of further series should Jed Mercurio have stories that he still wants to tell whilst drawing a line under the journey of the three main characters thus far.
3. Spiral
From The North favourite Engrenages ended not with a whimper but an 'ugedétonation when the eighth and final series was broadcast on BBC4 in January. Long-term fans were given what was, perhaps, the most unexpected - but, wholly, welcome - happy ending on TV since The Bridge. There was a fine summation of the finale by the Gruniad Morning Star's regular Spiral reviewer, James Donaghy and, in the same media organ, a decent - if more than a bit flagorneur - piece on the series as a whole by Graeme Virtue. 'How do you sum up Spiral, a show that - over the course of eighty six episodes - evolved from a buzzy breakout hit to a long-in-the-tooth warhorse?' asked the latter. That it was, you know, brilliant maybe? Or is that too simplistic for the Gruniad Morning Star? Why use four words when you can use mille cinq cents instead? Anyway, as Laure and Gilou strolled off, hand-in-hand into an uncertain (but, hopefully, non-jail-specific) future, this blogger wished to convey From The North's sincerest merci beaucoup to the producers and (superb) cast for the best gritty and extremely violent Gallic crime and legal drama of ... ever.
4. The Investigation (Efterforskningen)
'Fifty homicides are committed in Denmark every year. It's the lowest number ever. But it doesn't feel that way ... because we hear about all of them.''Maybe it's because the more civilised we become the greater is our need to stare into the darkness.' There is, probably, something rotten in the state of Denmark, dear blog reader. But, it's certainly not their ability to produce some great TV series. Writer-director Tobias Lindholm has made a string of accomplished, morally complex dramas which few in Britain has seen (but, which those of us who have, adored). He was one of the co-writers of From The North favourite Borgen the award-winning series about coalition politics. With Thomas Vinterkorn, he co-wrote The Hunt in 2012, which starred Mads Mikkelsen as a school teacher wrongly accused of sexual abuse. Then he made his solo movie debut, A Hijacking. Two of the stars of Borgen - Pilou Asbæk and Søren Malling - played a cook on a cargo ship and the shipping company's chief executive, who were pushed to their limits when the vessel was taken by Somali pirates. In 2015, Lindholm reunited with both actors for his Afghanistan drama A War, which was nominated for the Best Foreign Language Oscar. This year, the three of them were at it again. The Investigation was a six-part true-crime drama about the highly-publicised and distressing 2017 murder of the Swedish investigative journalist Kim Wall, whose dismembered body was found in the waters around Copenhagen after she went to interview the Danish entrepreneur-inventor Peter Madsen on board his submarine. In a clever move, Madsen himself was not depicted (or even, actually, named) in the series, the drama focusing instead on the meticulous police investigation to discover what happened to cause Wall's death and the grief process of her parents, Ingrid and Joachim (both of whom were heavily involved in the production). With a cast and crew that had many links to previous acclaimed Scandinavian series like The Killing, The Bridge and the under-rated Those Who Kill (Den Som Dræber) it was never going to be any less than gripping telly. But, having devoured all six episodes of The Investigation on iPlayer back-to-back, this blogger was mesmerised by this beautifully shot, slow moving, intricately plotted and immaculately acted piece of art. 'A radical take on the true-crime genre,'according to the Independent, The Investigation was, in every way, worthy of continuing Denmark's icy-grip on discerning British viewers' consciousness.
5. The Queen's Gambit
It arrived at the back-end of last year, fractionally too late for inclusion in the From The North 2020 'Best Of' list but Scott Frank and Allan Scott's fascinating coming-of-age, chess-as-a-metaphor-for-pretty-much-everything saga deserves a place in 2021's awards. In Anya Taylor-Joy's performance as the fictional prodigy Beth Harmon, Netflix found they had a star-making success story on their hands. The Queen's Gambit received numerous accolades; it won eleven Primetime EMMY Awards, including Outstanding Limited or Anthology Series, becoming the first show on a streaming service to win the category. It also won two Golden Globes and Taylor-Joy scooped a Screen Actors Guild Award. Critical acclaim was immediate and massive. In a column where she argued 'so many lives would be different if we'd had The Queen's Gambit fifty years ago,' social commentator Mary McNamara said, 'I loved The Queen's Gambit so much, I watched the final episode three times.' Sara Miller of The New Yorkerrecounted having experienced a sense of loss in her own association with the novel after seeing its depiction on-screen because she could not relate to the main character: 'Anya Taylor-Joy is way too good-looking to play Beth Harmon,' she claimed, somewhat dubiously. Darren Franich of Entertainment Weeklydescribed the lead actress as excelling 'in the quiet moments, her eyelids narrowing as she decimates an opponent, her whole body physicalising angry desperation when the game turns against her.'Variety's Caroline Framke added: 'The Queen's Gambit manages to personalise the game and its players thanks to clever storytelling and, in Anya Taylor-Joy, a lead actor so magnetic that when she stares down the camera lens, her flinty glare threatens to cut right through it.'Rolling Stain said: 'An aesthetically beautiful project with several superb performances, all in service to a story that starts to feel padded long before the end comes.' Critics also frequently discussed the series' prominent theme of substance abuse. Phoebe Wong noted that 'unlike other works which study the self-destructive aspects of perfectionist obsession, mental health and substance abuse issues extend beyond the protagonist to other characters' in her review for the Tufts Daily (no, me neither). 'Impressive in its own right, The Queen's Gambit adopts a fresh perspective by delving into chess' intersections with substance abuse and gender discrimination.'Esquirestated: 'The result is a pretty scary depiction of the stress of competitive chess in the 1960s.' The Washington Post's Monica Hesse considered the series 'revisionist history' but, also, 'a wonderful future' in that the heroine's 'uncluttered path to success' is 'uninterrupted by sexism' and has men 'refreshingly' looking out for the main female character. Carina Chocano of The New York Times Magazine also believed the show - again and again - foils audience expectations: the janitor does not molest Beth, her adoptive father leaves her alone and her adoptive mother, Alma, does not hold her back, a departure Chocano attributed to the 'fantasy-like' quality of the series. Responding to these reviews, Fred Mazelis of the World Socialist website wrote'the claims that the series is appreciated because it is "fantasy" are disingenuous, to say the least. The show has struck a chord precisely because it is not seen as utopian fiction.' The series also received praise from the chess community for its realistic portrayal of the game and players. In an interview with Vanity Fair, Grandmaster Jennifer Shahade said that The Queen's Gambit'completely nailed the chess accuracy.' In an article about the series in The Times, British chess champion David Howell felt that the chess scenes were 'well choreographed and realistic,' while British women's champion Jovanka Houska said: 'I think it's a fantastic TV series ... [i]t conveys the emotion of chess really well.' Houska stated that she related to Beth being one of the few women in a tournament and noted that sexism was worse at the 'hobby' level, especially for young girls. International Master Dorsa Derakhshani described the show as 'very, very accurate.'
A mildly amusing postscript: In the final episode of The Queen's Gambit, the women's world champion Nona Gaprindashvili was mentioned as having 'never faced men,' despite the real-life Gaprindashvili frequently playing against male opponents. In response, Gaprindashvili whinged 'it's dishonouring to have misinformation spread about someone's achievements' and sued Netflix for defamation, seeking a shitload of wonga for having had her feelings hurt. Or something. Let us once again, dear blog reader, stand up and salute the trivial bollocks that some people chose to care about.
6. Doctor Who
'Being with The Doctor, you don't get to choose when it stops. Whether you leave her or she leaves you.' Following on swiftly from 2020's thoroughly enjoyable batch of episodes, the New Year's Day Doctor Who episode, Revolution Of The Daleks was a timely - if unnecessary - reminder of just how good Jodie Whittaker's Doctor had become over the previous two series; taking a brilliantly convoluted pan-continental (and, indeed, pan-galactic) storyline full of sly realpolitik intrigue and lots of good jokes (a Mike Ashley reference!) it proved to be a fine departure for the always-excellent Bradley Walsh and Tosin Cole, who got their deserved happy ending. And, it allowed old Barrowman to camp it up in a grand manner without ever once threatening to get his knob out on-set. Well, okay, maybe once. 'Revolution Of The Daleks isn't going to go on many lists of favourite Doctor Who episodes,'claimedStarburst. 'But it has a lot going for it - it's a fast-paced, crowd-pleasing Dalek shoot-'em-up; it confidently and satisfyingly draws together elements from across the show's recent continuity and it's one of the better companion exit stories we've seen in a long while.''What the episode does is try and tackle questions raised by The Doctor always being the centre of the series' universe and what it takes to overcome her gravitational pull,'addedDen of Geek. 'Even if you don't care to chew over those metatextual issues on New Year's Day, however, Revolution Of The Daleks is still an enjoyable hour-and-change of telly and one that ultimately chooses to (mostly) wipe the slate clean ready for adventures yet to come.' This blogger, of course, thought it was great - Chibnall showing an unexpected dark-side to his corner of the Doctor Who universe and, despite some criticisms that the episode lacked 'emotional weight', it produced many positive notices from critics and fans alike. Due to on-going Covid-type malarkey, the thirteenth series of the BBC's popular, long-running family SF drama was reduced to six episodes (an inter-connected story subtitled Flux), scheduled for late October and it returned with a - superb - first three episode, The Halloween Apocalypse, War Of The Sontarans and Once, Upon Time. Joining The Doctor and Yaz in the TARDIS was Dan, played by large-toothed cheeky-chappie Scouse funster, John Bishop. And his Sontaran-disabling wok. Shortly before the series returned, however, there was the duel announcements that Jodie would be leaving the role following three extended specials to be broadcast in 2022 and, then, that Russell Davies would be returning to the franchise as showrunner for Doctor Who's sixtieth anniversary in 2023. Wheel turns, civilisations rise ... but Doctor Who just keeps on going! And, thanks to all the black, white and technocolour guardians of the tellybox universe for that.
7. Call My Agent! (Dix Pour Cent)
For so long Spiral stood alone but French TV is currently having a bit of a moment, with a number of series becoming international talking points. Chief among them being this stiletto-sharp comedy-drama about a Paris talent agency, whose fourth series premiered on Netflix in January after broadcasting in France late last year. Dix Pour Cent's central conceit is that each episode features a particular client, a real-life star playing themselves - and, for the first time the latest run looked beyond France's borders for its cameos, with an appearance by Hollywood's Sigourney Weaver. Other than that, however, it was deliciously acerbic business as usual and has made its central quartet of harassed media manipulators - Camille Cottin, Thibault de Montalembert, Grégory Montel and Liliane Rovère - into genuine star material; as the BBC's arts editor Will Gompertz noted it 'maintains the same rarefied heights of excellence of the previous three [series], as our bold and increasingly beleaguered agents do battle with the corporate ogre that is StarMédia, an array of recalcitrant actors, and - mostly - each other.' Though this was widely purported to be the final series, fans will be glad to know that there has been a stay of execution: a fifth series and a stand-alone film have recently been confirmed. Which is good news for a series described by the Gruniad as 'a comedy gem.' Proof that, like a broken clock, even Middle Class hippy Communists at the Gruniad can be right up to twice a day.
8. Exterminate All The Brutes
An internationally co-produced documentary series revolving around colonisation and genocide, directed and narrated by Raoul Peck. The series consisted of four episodes and premiered in the US in April and the UK on Sky Documentaries in May. It took its name from Sven Lindqvist's book, a phrase that Lindqvist in turn borrowed from Joseph Conrad's Heart Of Darkness. In the premiere, The Disturbing Confidence Of Ignorance, Peck set out to illuminate the intertwined currents of bigotry running through history. Focusing on America's legacy as a colonial power, Peck explored how race first became institutionalised, the Nazi programme of 'elimination' and its antecedents in the West and the looting of the African continent. In Who The Fuck Is Columbus?, Peck revisited the stories of the first voyages of discovery, The Alamo and The Trail Of Tears from an indigenous perspective, showing how official history is always shaped by the winning side and solidified by myth and popular culture. Killing At A Distance Or How I Thoroughly Enjoyed The Outing, saw Peck looking at human migration, trade and weaponry and how European nations used industrialised steel to conduct warfare from ever-greater distances. The endless cycle of militarisation throughout the centuries - from George Washington's efforts to American arms manufacturing, to The Monroe Doctrine and, finally, to the horrors of Hiroshima and Nagasaki - formed part of them same straight line. The Bright Colours Of Fascism ended the series, exploring the challenge of reconciling America's true history with its ideals of freedom and democracy, pointing to the struggle for native representation and the legacy of slavery in institutionalised racism today. 'It's far from easy viewing, but Exterminate All The Brutes might be close to essential,'wroteThe Age. 'The past is never dead and it's not even the past. Peck is determined that we don't forget that,'addedVox. 'It's astounding that Exterminate All The Brutes even exists.''At once epic in scope and intimate in focus, held together by the strength of Peck's vision,'wroteThe Ringer. 'One series alone can't rewrite history, but it can attempt to serve as a rallying cry.''The show is a relentless attack on racism, genocide, colonialism and the extractive nature of imperialist and post-imperialist forms of capitalism,' was the opinion of The Nation. Amongst the other critics lining up to heap praise of Peck's documentary were New Yorker ('It is literally a film in Peck's voice and that strength and that audacity, also gives rise to its artistic peculiarities'), CNN ('While Peck's unorthodox approach might not win many converts, the project's existence is, if not quite a miracle, its own kind of victory'), East Bay Express ('It's a whirlwind of meaning about how the world got this way, a moral and philosophical appeal to reason, wrapped up in a documentary best viewed unhurriedly, in order to let it all sink in') and The Hollywood Reporter ('a daring, imaginative and defiantly challenging artwork - one that often feels like it belongs as much in a museum as on TV'). This was extraordinary, brave, at times highly uncomfortable television - a remarkable and important creation.
9. Staged
'Do you think I'm funny?' Dear blog readers with memories longer than the average goldfish may recall that this blogger was particularly harsh on certain TV critics during From The North's Best & Worst TV Of 2020 bloggerisation. Most notably over a couple of reviews of the third series of what had previously been a critical favourite, Killing Eve and what this blogger described as 'the horribly obvious nature of the British media's "arse-lick-'em-up-and-then-slap-'em-down-hard" attitude to any form of success.' One of those who copped this blogger's particular ire and righteous fury was That Awful Singh Woman at the Torygraph. Her idiotic claims that 'the novelty has worn off' and that Killing Eve was 'no longer TV's must-watch' caused this blogger to blow his shit and, angrily, observe 'the fact that some arrogant smear of no consequence considers liking any TV show to be "a novelty" tells you everything you need to know about Anita Singh of the Torygraph.' Well, the odious Torygraph reviewer - who is rapidly turning into this blogger's most loathed TV critic of all time (taking the place of previous From The Northbête noire, That Awful Graham Woman at the Radio Times) - was at it again in 2021. The opening episode of the second series of From The North favourite Staged was her target as That Awful Singh Woman sneeringly criticised the 'meta' aspects of the series, saying 'Staged is at its best when [David Tennant and Michael Sheen] are being funny, rather than debating whether or not they're funny.' This blogger thinks, actually, that is a matter for the audience to decide, not some arrogant arsewipe at the Torygraph's media desk. To be scrupulously fair, That Awful Singh Woman was not alone in her use of the 'arse-lick-'em-up-and-then-slap-'em-down-hard' thing in relation to Staged. One Rupert Hawksley (no, me neither) - who, seemingly, couldn't get a job at the newspaper actually designed for Middle Class hippy Communists, the Gruniad, so he had to go and work for the Indi instead - called the first episode 'stale and indulgent ... Perhaps Staged was always this smug and we just didn't notice, so grateful were we to have something new to watch, but the tone is now horribly out of step with the national mood.' Once again, pal, the national mood was/is not something which gets decided by some joyless fek-faced goitre spewing out their phlegm in the (distantly) fourth biggest-selling national broadsheet. Or, someone who has the gall to describe anything as 'smug' when writing in a newspaper for whom that word could almost have been specifically created.
These are both, of course, classic examples of the 'arse-lick-'em-up-and-then-slap-'em-down-hard' principle. And, in the case of the latter, it's also a textbook case of something this blogger's old mate Paul Cornell - now, of course, an acclaimed TV writer himself - once talked about in relation to certain Doctor Who fans. 'If you try to show a fan a point,' Paul once observed, wearily, 'chances are, they'll miss it.' If ever there was a finer example of that in relation to TV critique, it's describing Staged as 'smug.' Self-deprecating? Yeah. Arch? Possibly, this blogger might give you that. Ridiculous? Deliberately so and all the more delicious for it. But 'smug'? Most other critics who expressed an opinion about series two of Staged managed, thankfully, to avoid the 'arse-lick-'em-up-and-then-slap-'em-down-hard' thing, as the Rotten Tomatoes website summation proves. TV critics, dear blog reader, they're a right bunch of contrary waste-of-space twonks at the best of times. This blogger very much included. Here endeth today's lesson.
10. Unforgotten
'If we can do this right, if we can ignore who they are and do it by the book, then all the questions might go away. And, I might be able to sleep at night.' Such is the glut of crime dramas on telly these days that it's difficult for any new show in the genre to truly stand out, but this exceptional effort made it look easy - proving that what you really need to elevate your procedural police series is not high concepts or over-clever twists, but just beautiful and humane writing and superb acting. Through three previous series, creator Chris Lang used the premise of Cassie Stuart (From The North Goddess Nicola Walker) and Sunny Khan (the excellent Sanjeev Bhaskar) investigating years-old but newly-unearthed murders as a way to tell powerful stories of guilt, shame, regret and, just occasionally, redemption. This year's fourth series, focusing on the discovery of a body with links to four former friends who were all once trainee police officers, was no less powerful and was a massive hit for ITV with each of the six episodes pulling in over nine million punters. Meanwhile the real highlight of the show remained the incredible performance of Dame Nicola, one of the most natural and organic actors around - this blogger is struggling to think if she has ever put in what he considers to be a below-par performance in anything and he's coming up blank. She's not a From The North favourite for nothing, dear blog reader. Extraordinary for being so ordinary, Cassie was not a tortured detective type but rather an exceptional, sympathetic professional trying to do her best in difficult circumstances - and, without giving away any spoilers for those who didn't watch the episodes, this series made viewers value her more than ever. Beautifully written (Walker's near-to-tears victim monologues having long been series highlights) and with a pair of thunderous performances from the leads, this was an unforgettable instalment of an unmissable show. 'Unforgotten makes the case for decency,' wrote the New York Times. Indecently, a remake is, reportedly, in development for ABC in the United States. Because, as we've noted many time in the past on this blog, no one in US TV seems to have any original ideas any more. Meanwhile, a fifth series of the proper Unforgottenwill be broadcast in 2022.
11. Arena: Delia - The Myth & The Legendary Tapes
Carolina Catz's extraordinary docudrama about the late Delia Derbyshire got its TV debut early this year in the BBC2's Arena strand. It explored the life and creative output of Coventry-born Derbyshire - electronic musician, sound pioneer, female outsider and twenty four carat genius. From 1962 until 1973, she worked at the BBC's Radiophonic Workshop, where she created the iconic Doctor Who theme tune, which remained uncredited to her during her lifetime. Delia introduced avant-garde electronica and musique concrete to a generation through the medium of a teatime family TV drama (devoted fans of her work include techno pioneers Orbital, Aphex Twin and The Chemical Brothers). Sound was both a refuge for Delia and a haunting manifestation of something darker. She was three years old during the Coventry blitz listening to the sounds of the air-raid sirens against a backdrop of the devastation of her hometown. She later described the all-clear klaxons as her first experience of electronic music. This was a story where sound encapsulated pain and violence and positioned Delia as tapping into a heightened realm, where her femininity and creativity were unshackled, amplified and, ultimately, set gloriously free. This essence in her music invited aggression and control, often unconsciously, from those around her. Her technical brilliance, intuition and integrity was a threat which spoke to the gender politics of the age. Delia's story was told through two archives: the first, a collection of over two hundred and fifty reels audiotape recordings found in her attic after her death; the other, her school books, paintings and keepsakes. The combined archive, which now resides at Manchester's John Rylands Library, is an incredible resource. Delia's poetic collages and atmospheric soundscapes reveal themselves as intriguing expressions of her inner life. The docudrama began with Delia herself (portrayed by Catz) as a time traveller and imagined a visitation where her objects and sounds from her past brought her visions to life. Her struggle with alcoholism, frustrations at her contributions being downplayed in a predominantly male workplace environment as well as her life on the fringes of relationships were all explored in the film - themes which were frequently absorbed into sound, texture and harmonies. The docudrama replaced a biopic style with something far more lyrical and ethereal. It was a playful, quasi-psychedelic mix utilising interviews with her collaborators and dramatisations while honouring the composer's own questing spirit. This was a life story - outré and challenging - told through sound, using both Delia's own music alongside a soundtrack constructed from samples chosen with musician and performance artist Cosey Fanni Tutti (formerly of Throbbing Gristle, another lifelong fan) from Delia's attic tapes. It explored the fantasy of a collaboration, an exchange of ideas across eras between two fascinating musicians. It celebrated independence and imagination and looked at how, when that energy is evoked by women and creates a spark, the pattern seen throughout history is that it is often dismissed or under-appreciated. 'A loving, almost dreamy paean to the woman who started her career as an assistant in the BBC's Radiophonic Workshop and became a pioneer of electronic music as we know it today,'wroteThe Times. 'This could have been a sombre, straight documentary, but it feels fitting that it is playful and, for much of it, a lot of fun,'added the Gruniad. 'Even a scene in which Derbyshire wrestles with her demons has her conversing with paintings of Ada Lovelace and Mary Wollstonecraft.''Boldly original, beautifully evocative,' was Radio Times's view. 'She was too in advance of her time,' Delia's long-time collaborator Brian Hodgson said in the programme. It was a fitting epitaph for a woman who fulfilled her ambition of creating sounds which had never existed in the world before except in her own head.
12. The Valhalla Murders (Brot)
Described by more than one critic as, 'essentially, The Bridge Lite'that was damning this fine Icelandic noir with grossly insufficient praise. Broadcast in the UK on BBC4 in the final days of 2020, Brot was a splendidly glacial (in every sense of the word) drama about a pair of Reykjavik detectives - played by Nína Dögg Filippusdóttir and Björn Thors - investigating conspiracy, child abuse and other dodgy-doings at the heart of government. The drama was the brainchild of Þorður Pálsson and was, apparently, inspired by a genuine story from the late 1940s. 'The Valhalla Murders is enthralling stuff, the contrasting grit and gleam of the interiors and exteriors - and even of the actors themselves - weaving a visual spell of its own,' noted the Sydney Morning Herald. 'You might need to put the central heating up while watching this eight-part Icelandic thriller; it has the potential to make your core temperature drop a couple of point,'added the Financial Times. What was just as interesting as the whodunnit was the professional gender politics and home-life pressures that Filippusdóttir's Kata had to navigate. The Valhalla Murders worked, for a large part, because of its unique locale, witty scripts and wall-to-wall fine performances. 'This drama doesn't set out to reinvent a genre,'noted the Globe & Mail's reviewer. 'What keeps you compelled, with as much force as the mystery, is the attention paid to minor characters.'Kalt fallegt for all From The North dear blog reader's in Reykjavík.
13. It's A Sin
From The Normal Heart to Angels In America, there have been a number of landmark works about the US AIDs crisis of the early-to-mid 1980s, but very little depicting the scourge of the pandemic elsewhere - which was what made Russell Davies' six-part exploration of what was happening in the UK at the time so welcome. A co-production with HBO, it was a masterful blend of comedy, tragedy and contemporary pop hits, which perhaps showcased Davies' unique brilliance as a writer better than any show he's done previously (Queer As Folk and some daft kids about a time-travelling madman in a box, notwithstanding): that is, his particular ability to combine the immense warmth and homeliness of a classic British drama and/or comedy with a righteous anger that gradually, then suddenly unfurls itself in the lives of his characters. A fine young ensemble cast included Olly Alexander, Callum Scott Howells and Omari Douglas as a trio of gay men, moving to the big city with no idea what was in store, whilst they were supported by a fine selection of more experienced names, the best of all being Neil Patrick Harris as an impish Savile Row tailor along with the likes of From The North favourites Keeley Hawes, Stephen Fry and Shaun Dooley. And, if It's A Sin's depiction of how the victims of a pandemic were turned into pariahs by the media and public indifference would have cut deeply at any time, right at that moment it acquired a resonance which was even more gut-wrenching. The show's subject matter was, reportedly, a difficult sell to broadcasters; the BBC and ITV declined to develop the series and Channel Four only took it on after their commissioning editor of drama, Lee Mason, fought for it. The show received widespread critical acclaim for its emotional scenes, writing and depiction of AIDS (Scarlett Russell of The Timescalled it 'the most talked-about show of the moment'); the cast performances were also met with widely positive reviews (particularly Keeley Hawes: 'an acting tour de force as a mother whose grief and denial turns her vicious'according to the Radio Times). Elton John described the show as a 'triumph of creativity and humanity,' adding that it was a 'moving testament to a pivotal and important moment in LGBTQ history. The cast are sublime.' Similarly, Ian McKellen also praised the series and called Davies 'the most imaginative of writers for television.'It's A Sin's soundtrack included numerous artists from the 1980s including - obviously - The Pet Shop Boys, The Teardrop Explodes, Bronski Beat, Joy Division, Kate Bush, Kelly Marie, Blondie, Erasure and Culture Club. NMEnoted that the series uses 'a faultless selection of queer anthems and eighties smash hits that take on a new resonance.' The drama has been credited with re-raising HIV awareness and creating an upsurge in testing. All episodes were released to the broadcaster's online streaming service All Four; after a few weeks, it had been viewed more than six-and-a-half million times making it the most binge-watched show to stream on the platform. Indeed, the only sour-note surrounding this heartfelt and emotionally precise series was a hateful piece of thinly-disguised bigotry by James Delingpole of The Spectator in criticising Davies' casting of gay actors for gay roles as 'blatant hypocrisy.' It is, perhaps, worth repeating at this point something which this blog has discussed at length in the past. There are many good people in the world; there are also some bad people; most of us are somewhere in the middle just trying to get through life without hurting anyone - notably ourselves - too badly. And then, dear blog reader, there are some people who are, simply, scum.
14. We Are Lady Parts
'Do you want to waterboard me about it?' Nida Manzoor's highly-regarded - and very funny - comedy about a female Muslim punk band was a riotous achievement, mixing singalong rock anthems ('Bashir With The Good Beard') and a culture-clash story which was both tender and huge fun. This brilliant sitcom was both hilarious and gently (and, sometimes, not-so-gently) subversive. Manzoor overthrew many stereotypes about Muslim women by giving viewers flawed and amusing characters who are very much in charge of their own destinies. Each scene was infused with such warmth and authenticity that it was impossible not to be impressed. Originally a Channel Four pilot as long ago as 2018, the full series finally arrived in May of this year. It featured Anjana Vasan, Sarah Kameela Impey, Juliette Motamedc and Faith Omole as the eponymous Parts and Lucie Shorthouse as their manager. On Rotten Tomatoes the critical consensus was: 'Infectious energy, great songs and a magnetic cast come together.' Radhika Seth of Vogue described the series as a 'riotous comedy that's unlike anything you've seen before' and added that it 'hinges on a quintet of note-perfect performances.' The Financial Timessaid that 'progressive representations highlight a truth about being a modern-day Muslim: you can be both God-fearing and weed-smoking; disorderly and devotional. Far from a clash, these things reflect a cultural mish-mash of the tangled and contradictory parts of ourselves that make us delightfully, bafflingly human.' The review continued the series 'is among a wave of shows casting off stereotypes and at ease with complexity ... The well-worn trope of oppressed Muslim women is nowhere to be seen among these tattooed, anarchic rebels who are, nevertheless, practising Muslims. When they're not prostrating in prayer, they are ripping through provocative punk anthems such as 'Aint No One's Gonna Honour-Kill My Sister But Me'.' The Observer's Barbara Ellen said the sitcom was 'unhinged, unashamedly and entertainingly so - new comedy turned up to eleven.' Manzoor's scripts are knowing and clever. By the end of the first episode, a whole litany of Muslim stereotypes had already been poked fun at with a pointy stick. What was especially interesting was how refreshingly good-humoured it all was. As more than one critic has pointed out, We Are Lady Parts does something that many, in theory far more 'diverse' shows, have not. It delivers on the potential of representation. Plus, it actually was funny. And not in an 'in-joke' sort-of way, but in the classic slapstick style of people falling over and wry observations about the complexities of modern womanhood. And, the songs were great! Says a fifty eight year old white, straight Northern unmarried male who belongs to no oppressed minorities whatsoever (unless being A Ginger counts).
15. Can't Get You Out Of My Head: An Emotional History Of The Modern World
In a sprawling six-part series for BBC iPlayer, Adam Curtis reflected on how in the age of the individual, fundamental power structures governing us all haven't gone away. Curtis, the creator of previous From The North favourites as diverse as Pandora's Box, The Century Of Self, The Power Of Nightmares and All Watched Over By Machines Of Loving Grace traces the different forces that have led to now. Featuring, as all of Curtis's documentary work tends to, off-beat archival footage of figures in politics and culture, the montage of film essays focused on the loosely interconnected stories of historical revolutionaries. Telling the individual tales of Jiang Qing, Afeni Shakur, Edward Limonov and Michael X, Curtis set out the - persuasive if, at times more than a bit convoluted - argument that it was all of us - self-expressing individuals, politicians and technocrats - who, together, made these strange times that we're currently living through. In other words, it's our fault. All of it - the rise of the new right, the fragmentation of society, Trump, Brexit, racism, the works. We made it happen; either directly or, by our inaction, indirectly. It's sobering stuff. Curtis doesn't provide any answers, either - like most of us, he hasn't got any - but through his typical dazzling, yet untraditional collage format, Curtis does at least offer us an explanation of the dynamics of our times. And, gently wag a finger at viewers whilst trying to establish why the critics of now-extremely-former President Rump and Brexit were unable to offer any alternative vision for the future and why these sociopolitical circumstances continue beyond ethical breaking points.
The Gruniad Morning StarcalledCan't Get You Out Of My Head: An Emotional History Of The Modern World'dazzling' and 'a dense, ambitious triumph.' Though, to paraphrase the late Mandy Rice Davies, 'well, they would, wouldn't they?' Sarah Carson of the idescribed the series as 'terrifying' and 'a masterpiece' whilst the Independentadded it was a 'fascinating and disorienting' series that 'aims to show how radical movements, emerging after the Second World War, were neutralised and co-opted by an establishment determined to maintain the status quo.' Somewhat typical of the Indi, that - always seeking to maintain The Status Quo. This blogger has long believed Britain's fourth largest-selling broadsheet was, collectively, soft on ponytails and fifty years of imaginative use of demin. On the other hand, James Walton of The Spectator believed the series was merely a variation on Curtis's usual theme of 'how hopeless - in both senses - human beings are,' deriding Can't Get You Out Of My Head as 'incoherent and conspiracy-fuelled.'Max Power in the Torygraph - who, seemingly, took some time out from leading Sunderland's second failure to get out of the third tier of English football before bailing out and transfering to Wigan - found the series'completely implausible.' So, to sum up, then, if you work for broadly a left-leaning media organ - and enjoy a healthy slice of Vegan quiche - then you're likely to wildly applaud Curtis's vision. If, on the other hand, you're on the right of the political spectrum, then you are vile filth, no one likes you and you will never get invited to any of the Cool Kidz parties. Which sounds about right. In an equally sceptical, if somewhat less agenda-soaked review for Sight & Sound, Hannah McGill wrote: 'Curtis practices journalism absent the qualities that give it credibility: specificity, corroboration. Instead, he serves up a soup of interesting, oddball historical anecdotes, accompanied by a voiceover favouring giant, blurry assertions about how "we" interact with "those in power" during the "strange days" in which we live. Who are "we"? English speakers? Men? People who watch Adam Curtis documentaries?' A fair question. Like the Torygraph's (actually quite amusing) description of the series as a 'never-ending Radiohead video' there's more than a touch of perception in McGill's piece, Can't Get You Out Of My Head Gets Lost In Its Own Thoughts. Curtis's work is challenging, dense, often so complex as to be almost impenetrable. You have to completely immerse yourself in it and, even then, you may still not get to the heart of what Curtis is trying to articulate. But, viewers with a brain in their skull in this attention-span-of-seven-seconds world owe it to themselves to, at least, give it a go. Plus, anyone who can get away with an episode title like Shooting & Fucking Are The Same Thing deserves a bit of indulgence. Even from Gas Power and the Torygraph.
16. The Brokenwood Mysteries
As noted in previous years'From The North 'Best Of' lists, The Brokenwood Mysteries is a show which, initially at least, sneaked under the radar of many British viewers - this blogger included. It's a New Zealand crime drama unable to make up its mind whether it wants to be Midsomer Murders or Twin Peaks. So, it ends up as a bit of both, simultaneously. And, that's a good thing. 'With its "gentle" approach to murders, twisty mysteries and warm, witty and relatively uncomplicated regulars, it's easy to see why Brokenwood has gained such a global following,' noted the Stuff website. It arrived in the UK on the relatively obscure Drama channel a couple of years ago and 2021's seventh series has been the best so far, with the central detective duo of Nill Rea and Fern Sutherland on particularly fine form. The series even survived its first change of main cast with the departure of Nic Sampson after a couple of episodes and his replacement by Jarod Rawiri. Engaging, quirky, with a keen sense of its own ridiculous faux-naïf world (concerning, as it does, a small town full of eccentrics which appears to be the murder capital of the Southern Hemisphere), Brokenwood's charms are gentle, yet can be very rewarding.
17. Wellington Paranormal
A bit like buses, you wait for ages for a superb New Zealand TV series to appear and then two turn up at once. And, if The Brokenwood Mysteries is like some unholy mash-up of Midsomer Murders and Twins Peak then Wellington Paranormal appears to have been made by people who've only ever seen two other TV shows, Cops and The X-Files! Created by Taika Waititi and Flight of The Conchords' Jemaine Clement and starring Karen O'Leary, Mike Minogue and Maaka Pohatu, once again, the series took a while to make it over to the UK, finally showing up on Sky Comedy early this year. And, it's terrific, with the leads (O'Leary, in particular) delivering their lines in a dry, near po-faced fly-on-the-wall documentary style as they investigate cases of a young girl projectile vomiting in Cuba Mall, crop circles, the She Wolf of Kurimarama Street, zombie police officers et cetera. 'A deft blend of monster-of-the-week frights and low-key humour, Wellington Paranormal is a droll delight,'according to Rotten Tomatoes. The series has also been described as 'refreshingly silly and never pretentious', 'imminently watchable thanks to its considerable B-movie charm' and 'silly, fun and occasionally astute, even when it isn't trying.' Three series have now been produced together with a sixteen-episode digital web series and public service campaign by New Zealand Police to inform the public on health, safety and best practices during the pandemic, Important COVID-19 Messages from Wellington Paranormal. The broadcaster and presenter Clarke Gayford's appearance on a Wellington Paranormal video in April 2021 encouraging people who were looking after young children during the pandemic drew some criticism from those with an agenda due to his relationship with New Zealand Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern. National Party Member of Parliament Brett Hudson (who is, clearly, not scum. Oh, no, very hot water) alleged during an Epidemic Response Committee meeting in that the video risked 'politicising' the New Zealand Police. In response, Police Commissioner Andrew Coster defended Gayford's participation on the grounds that he is a well-known television personality who had participated in the television series. All such nonsense aside, this blogger urges dear blog readers to check out Wellington Paranormal anywhere you can find it. The Copy Cops episode, in particular, is worth half-an-hour of anyone's time.
18. Vera/Endeavour
With filming hampered by Covid restrictions both of ITV's Sunday night crime drama blockbusters suffered from reduced episode-counts in 2021. Only two episodes of Vera's eleventh series were broadcast in August and September with further stories from the same recording block held back until next year. Once again, the series highlights Brenda Blethyn's pitch-perfect portrayal of Ann Cleeves' titular Detective Chief Inspector, featured intricate plotting (notably in Colette Kane's Recovery) and, most importantly, provided North East viewers like this blogger with two hours of location spotting (the opening episode's use of Tynemouth's Collingwood Monument being this year's most obvious example). Vera never has and probably will never be a critical favourite - you'll struggle to find so much as a word spoken about it in many of the broadsheets and, when the Torygraphdid honour the series with a review of this year's opening episode, it was every bit as sneering as you'd expect from That Awful Singh Woman: 'Vera investigates the murder of a local builder. By the time she's solved it, you'll feel becalmed and ready for bed.'Vera, nevertheless, remained a popular format with normal people, both episodes pulling in overnight audiences of over seven million.
The eighth series of the Inspector Morse prequel Endeavour, set in 1971, followed in Vera's Sunday evening slot with three terrific episodes - especially, the opener Striker which tackled racism in early-70s football and the rise of the IRA and the finale, Terminus, a long-overdue horror-inflected haunted house-style mystery. One featuring 'some great jump scares and effective use of light and shadow in a mystery that blends period-appropriate Hammer stylings with a touch of Agatha Christie,'according to the Den Of Geek review. As ever, Shaun Evans, Roger Allam, Anton Lesser, Shaun Rigby, Sara Vickers and Abigail Thaw were on terrific form and the sense of time and location was beautifully preserved throughout. There have been rumours that this would be the final series, the drama now having reached the same number of episodes - thirty three - as its two predecessors Inspector Morse and Lewis. But, as yet, ITV have made no comment on the series future (or, lack of it).
19. Vigil
A much-anticipated six-part thriller filmed in Scotland from the makers of Bodyguard and Line Of Duty and featuring From The North favourite Suranne Jones. What could possibly go wrong? Remarkably little as it turned out. Created by Strike's Tom Edge, it was the story of the mysterious disappearance of a Scottish fishing trawler and a death on board a Trident nuclear submarine which brought the police into conflict with the Navy and the security services. Besides Jones it starred Rose Leslie, Shaun Evans, Anjli Mohindra, Martin Compston and Paterson Joseph. Episode one attracted an audience of over ten million viewers across its first seven days, making Vigil the BBC's most watched new drama of the year. In fact, ratings across all six episodes were massive. The Gruniad Morning Stardescribed the series as 'solid, old-fashioned entertainment.' The Independentpraised the cast and Edge's script. In the Evening Standard, Katie Rosseinsky said: 'scenes set in the depths of the sub are visually striking, lit up in reds and blues. Add in some jump scares, a handful of near-catastrophes and a couple of cliffhangers and you have all the makings of a taut mystery with intriguingly murky depths. Sunday nights are stressful again - I wouldn't have it any other way.'Empire magazine describedVigil as '[a] relentless conspiracy drama bursting with performers who know how to keep their cards close to their chests. British TV doesn't get more thrilling than this.' Hugo Rifkind in The Times added'[s]etting a whodunnit on a submarine' was 'a masterstroke.' Suzi Feay of the Financial Timessaid that 'The submarine setting has the welcome effect of pressure-cooking some fairly standard ingredients into a tasty concoction.' Of course, big surprise, the Torygraphhated it, That Awful Singh Woman describing the series as 'so bad it could be Russian propaganda' (something which seems not to have particularly bothered an average of over twelve million viewers, weekly) whilst her colleague British Sea Power decalared that 'the story was nonsense.' Which it wasn't, or anything even remotely like it, Wind Power. For what it's worth, dear blog reader, this blogger thought Vigil was great.
20. A Perfect Planet
A five-part BBC series presented by David Attenborough, the first episode premiered in January. Filming took place over four years, across thirty one countries, with crew navigating difficulties in extreme temperatures and remote locations. The editing process was also badly affected by the pandemic. The series covered volcanoes, the Sun, weather and oceans, with the final episode focusing on human impact on the environment. Humans, was described by Attenborough as 'the most important story of our times': it showed the result of three weeks' filming on a Navy ship. Assistant producer Emily Franke aimed to 'show viewers the impact of our fishing practices.'A Perfect Planet was one of the most popular programmes on iPlayer in the first week of 2021, which saw the largest viewing figures in the platform's history. The Timesfound scenes 'stunning' and 'breathtaking', though filled with 'torture and suffering.' The Torygraphpraised the 'quality of the photography' and Attenborough's narration as 'intelligent,' enjoying the depictions of how the crew gathered footage. The Gruniad also highlighted this latter aspect. The Independentfound the visuals 'as awesome in scale and majesty as anything that has gone before' and lauded the series' theme as 'clever and novel.'The New Scientist, praised the series as a 'great blend of Natural History and Earth Science,' lauding the content about weather and climate change as 'perhaps the series' most dramatic scenes.''Terribly informative and all that, but, hello, any chance of something to coo over?'whinged the Herald's reviewer for whom, seemingly, Climate Change is someone else's problem. 'By half-an-hour in I was starting to wonder. Then the otters arrived. And the bears and normal service was resumed.' This was, of course, exactly what you'd expect from Attenborough and his colleagues in Bristol's Natural History Unit; concerned in its raison d'être, epic in scope, camera poetry in its visual impact, profound in its conclusions and not afraid to voice some harsh, possibly unwelcome, truths. It was, in a nutshell, beautiful. The final episode was, as Michael Hogan's Torygraph's review said, 'a sobering hour about the fragility of our world but it ended on an optimistic note. Environmental equilibrium can be recovered if we act fast.'If. Good word, that, dear blog reader.
21. The Pursuit Of Love
Lily James and Emily Beecham played best friends Linda Radlett and Fanny Logan on the hunt for husbands in this three-part dramatisation of Nancy Mitford's classic novel. Emily Mortimer's raucous adaptation of Mitford's tale of romance, friendship and scandal proved the perfect vehicle for James's Linda to shine. As audiences followed her from her stuffy family home of Alconleigh to Paris and war-torn London, Mortimer's script deftly examined the consequences of hedonistically following ones passions and loving unwisely. The cast also included Andrew Scott (deliciously over-the-top as Lord Merlin), Dominic West, Dolly Wells, Freddie Fox and Mortimer herself in the role of Beecham's runaway mother. In the Radio Times, Eleanor Bley Griffiths wrote'Each episode was a joy and a pleasure to watch - and when it comes to Sunday night TV, you can't ask for more than that.' Well, you can, actually, but if you do you run the risk of being seen as greedy. The Torygraphpraised the drama overall but, inevitably, criticised the casting of James: 'It is enjoyable, and the first episode is quite the best. But its leading lady is all wrong, despite looking the part.' Because, this is That Awful Singh Woman talking and, seemingly, she is unable to get through a sentence without twisting her sour face into a gurn over something. Slow Train Cumming in the Independent was more complimentary about Our Lil's talents: 'Free to pout and strut and grumble like a teenager, James relaxes more into her role than she did on her last outing, as a lovestruck archaeologist in The Dig.' Or, indeed, in those ruddy annoying Sky Mobile adverts that seem to be on about every thirty seconds. The Gruniad, of course, loved it the mostest, baby: 'The insistent intertwining of the pain with the laughter, instead of flattening the tale into a Wodehouse-with-women yarn, makes this adaptation feel like a classic in its own right. It is a treat for all,' slurped Lucy Mangan. 'Mitfordians - please, do give it a chance.' The Financial Times also gave a positive review as did The Arts Desk ('extravagantly entertaining'). The series' mixture of a period-accurate soundtrack with more adventurous fare (the superb use of New Order's 'Ceremony' in one scene, for instance) also drew much comment. John Cale, The Who, T-Rex and Nina Simone, what's not to love? The Pursuit Of Love Is A Scathing Satire Of The British Upper Classes claimed the reviewer in The New Yorker. Of course, it wasn't that, any more than the Sun's dubious allegation than Pursuit Of Love Fans Horrified As Dominic West Threatens To Spank Lily James While Playing Her Dad had a great deal of accuracy in it. On the other hand, Richard Roeper's assertion that it was 'a cheeky series, Lily James effortlessly returns to the past as an awful woman obsessively, cluelessly pursuing a mate,' was absolutely on the money.
22. Framing Britney Spears
It's rare that a piece of television comes along which feels quite as important as this New York Times-produced documentary about the pop icon and her apparent mistreatment over her two-decade long career from all sides: the press and paparazzi, the music industry, her own family and associates and everyone who has readily consumed her very public suffering as 'entertainment.' When it premiered in February, it was the catalyst for a much wider discussion about the collective, abject sexism directed at young women in the public eye - a conversation that has continued with Spears' peer Demi Lovato's YouTube series Dancing With The Devil. Framing Britney Spears was by no means perfect - notably, it was rather too lenient towards the so-called 'Free Britney' movement, which professed to be 'helping' her get out of her father's legal conservatorship but arguably was as unthinkingly rapacious towards her as all the other toxic parties in her life. But, the documentary's impact has been undeniable. Shortly after the documentary was broadcast in February, a probate judge dismissed objections by Jamie Spears regarding the co-conservatorship arrangement. The documentary garnered widespread international media coverage, bringing a renowned interest into Spears's legal battle and her sexist treatment by the media. Several z-list celebrities and television personalities received considerable backlash for their past remarks about Spears or interview questions directed at her over the years, including Justin Timberlake, Diane Sawyer, Sarah Silverman, Joel McHale, Ivo Niehe, John O'Hurley and Perez Hilton. Daniel D'Addario of Varietystated: 'This film provides a sort of pocket portrait of a person for whom freedom has been denied and for whom that denial comes as no surprise. Before [Spears's] father, the culture that idolised her had kept her a captive, too.' Reviewing the documentary for The Times, Ed Potton suggested it was 'not an easy watch' due in no small part to the aggressively negative portrayal of Spears's father. The Gruniadnoted the way the documentary emphasised the consequences of sexism. For Fiona Sturges of the Independent, it was 'a deeply sad story' which was 'lacking in journalistic rigour.' The NME's Nick Levine described it as 'a heartbreakingly human story that still lacks a happy ending.' A month after it was broadcast, Spears wrote about her feelings concerning the documentary on Instagram. While she admitted she did not watch it in full, she said from the parts she did see 'I was embarrassed by the light they put me in ... I cried for two weeks.' Spears specified in an later Instagram post that she 'didn't like the way the documentaries bring up humiliating moments from the past.' In September, Spears announced her engagement to her boyfriend, Sam Asghari whilst Judge Penny suspended Jamie Spears as conservator of his daughter's estate, with accountant John Zabel replacing him on a temporary basis until November when Penny terminated the conservatorship altogether.
23. Fever Pitch: The Rise Of The Premier League
Today's reading shall be from The Gospel According to Sir Alex. 'And lo, many were there assembled and it was seven minutes into injury time when the winner was scored. And there was, thence, a great wailing and kicking of teeth.' Once upon a time, dear blog reader, football was just a game. Then Sky poured a shitload of money into it and everything went to Hell in a handcart. Or, to put it another way, it became the global phenomena we know and (sometimes) still love. A world where greed is often good. Where a repressive human-rights abusing totalitarian regime is (genuinely) still preferable as the owners of a club with a proud, one hundred and thirty year history and passionate fanbase to a man who believes zero-hour contracts for the poor saps he employs to sell his dodgy sports gear are better than a living wage and yet was still considered to be a 'fit and proper person' to own them by the people who decide these things. A world where Odious Ashley Cole claimed that he 'almost crashed his car' when he found out that he'd only been offered sixty grand a week to play for The Arse. A world where the dreams of fans seeing their side have a decent cup run or a Terry Jacks-style season in the sun in the league are of distant secondary consideration to those who think the European Super League is the future of football (well, for the twelve clubs that were going to be involved in it. Everyone else could go fek themselves, seemingly). England caps, Omega watches and Bentley Continentals for goalposts. Indelible image, isn't it? Anyway, BBC2's Fever Pitch: The Rise Of The Premier League told the story of how we got to where we are from those who lived it and those who made the beautiful game a billion pound business. Lots of goals, glamour and glory. And not a great deal about the power, the corruption and the lies. The creation and development of the Premier League was told through the stories of people like Eric Cantona, David Beckham, Vinnie Jones, Wor Geet Canny Alan Shearer, Paul Merson, Ian Wright, Sir Les Ferdinand and Gary Neville. And, much of it was great. Bafflingly great at times because you know there's something sour and rotten at heart of the reason for the Premier League's very existence. But, nevertheless, The Dream Factory was in full-on mode when Cantona went all Rimbaud on us and said with his usual Gallic flair: 'All I know is I could express myself. I don't want to know more. It's like in love - I don't want to know why I love my wife.'Skill. Every football supporter in the land nodded, sagely, stroked their collective chin and said 'we know exactly what you mean, Eric.' Then they went back to moaning, loudly, to anyone that would listen (and, indeed, anyone that wouldn't) about ticket prices, lack of investment, how much The Scum spend on the prawn sandwiches for their corporate boxes and the fact that, even if only briefly, Sam Allardyce was once, actually, England manager. This is how we get through life, dear blog reader. It's dirty job but someone's got to do it. Reviews for the programme, inevitably, fell into a game of two halves, Brian; they either tended towards a cautiously 'Over the Moon' from the broadsheets (see here, here and here) or, alternatively, an even more cautious, 'Sick as a Parrot' view from the terraces (here, here, here and here). These reviews highlight all the self-evident problems associated with the Premier League and Sky TV's effective control over most aspects of it - that (one glorious day in July 1966, aside) football in England began in 1992 and everything before that doesn't really count. That, as The Smiths once said 'money changes everything', unless you're, for one season only, Leicester City. That you should be very careful what you wish for, football fans, because it might just come true. Twice over. Yes, this blogger does support Newcastle United. And, it's a life sentence. That avoiding relegation is the only thing that matters in football these days. All true. And, if cynicism was reason Fever Pitch: The Rise Of The Premier League would be number one in From The North's 'Worst Of' list for 2021. But ... this blogger is also a lover of The Beautiful Game. Yes this was a PR exercise, yes it glossed over lots of things that it shouldn't have, yes it was a hagiography to all things Manchester United. But, if only for another chance to see Shearer's volley against Everton or Peter Beardsley waltzing through the Aston Villa defence ('Paul McGrath could've stopped him ... if he'd had a machine gun!') one more time, this often felt like watching The Netherlands at the 1974 World Cup. Sexy totaalvoetbal. No one, least of all Keith Telly Topping, ever said that deciding what TV makes the viewer happy was either easy or that it made sense. Much like supporting a football team, in fact.
24. The Serpent
Beginning on New Year's Day, The Serpent - starring Tahar Rahim, Jenna Coleman and Ellie Bamber - was an international crime drama based on the real-life case of the globetrotting jet-set playboy, serial killer and conman Charles Sobhraj. Ripper Street writer Richard Warlow scripted this eight-part BBC drama about the hunt for Sobhraj, Interpol's most wanted man in the 1970s for the robbery and murder of multiple Western travellers across South Asia. Tom Shankland directed with considerable flair. Rebecca Nicholson, writing in the Gruniad Morning Star, found the time-hopping plotting unnecessary and confusing and wondered whether the programme had much to say, while simultaneously admiring the atmosphere and the 'routinely outstanding cast.' The Observer's reviewer, who praised Rahim and Coleman's acting, said The Serpent was a 'skilful retelling' of the Sobhraj story and one that both paid homage to his victims, while revealing the cultural shortcomings of a Middle Class hippy Communist generation which spawned these events. That Rahim underplayed Sobhraj's charm was 'a good thing' the review stated. However, Rahim's absence of charisma made it hard to understand how Sobhraj gained a hold over people according to the Radio Times. In the Independent, Something's Cumming found the pace slow and Rahim's acting staying 'mostly' on the right side of the fine line between inscrutable and dull. The Spectatorcalled it'the best BBC drama series in ages,' admiring the period detail, casting and absence of 'unnecessary politics' as well as noting that it might be especially painful for people who could have found themselves in similar scenarios to those that Charles Sobhraj exploited. By mid-series The Serpent gathered 'considerable momentum' according to Trevor Johnson in Sight & Soundsaying, that the series featured an 'alluring anti-hero' and an excellent score, but was somewhat let down by the 'shallow characterisation' of its Thai characters. Rahul Desai of Film CompanioncalledThe Serpent'a refreshing restoration of balance' adding that it 'reduces Charles Sobhraj from an image to an individual, a portrait to a person - and most importantly, from a human to a reptile.' Andrew Anthony, who interviewed Sobhraj twice, claimed that while the series captured his 'enigmatic detachment and quiet menace,' it missed the opportunity to show his 'more troubling qualities' of wit, charm and 'a kind of playful sense of self-mythologising.' Meanwhile, in the Netherlands, the inability of Billy Howle to pronounce his few Dutch lines of dialogue with a semblance of accuracy was much commented upon. In Dutch, obviously. A ratings hit and a further notch on Coleman's increasingly impressive CV (she was superb as Marie-Andrée Leclerc, Sobhraj's enigmatic girlfriend), The Serpent was, but for a slight decrease in the tension over the last couple of episodes, a genuine cracker.
25. Brian Cox's Adventures In Space & Time
From The North favourite Professor Brian Cox (no, the other one) looked back on a decade of discovery asking the biggest question of all - 'what's next?' Presenting from the Royal Institution in London, Cox drew on material from Wonders Of The Universe, Forces Of Nature and The Planets amongst others. The four episode titles gave one an idea of the scope and limitless ambition of Coxy's vision - Space: How Far Can We Go?Aliens: Are We Alone?What Is Gravity? and What Is Time? To which the short answers are 'as far as technology - and our imaginations - will allow us. Unless we come across any chest-bursting Xenomorphs. In which case, not quite that far', 'no, there are Xenomorphs out there. And, they're not to be messed with', 'it's that thing which made apples fall on Isaac Newton's head' and 'it's a relative concept, ask The Doctor, she'll fill you in on the important details.' The longer answers were provided by Coxy in his usual enthusiastic, almost-breathless-with-wonder-but-still-articulate style. '[It] makes you want to punch the air and shout "Science!"'claimed the i. 'It was utterly charming to watch a beaming Cox, watching his younger self (with varying lengths of haircut) be astonished and awed by what he discovered.''Watching Brian Cox do his thing is always a pleasure - he has the ability to explain complex scientific concepts in such a way that even single-celled organisms like myself can understand them,'notedSaga. 'So while this series is, in essence, a rehash of stuff he's filmed in the past, it is still fresh and exciting and stimulating. It is also almost as far removed as you can get from The Masked Dancer, allowing me to feel at least some self-respect at the end of my week's telly.' Even the Daily Scum Mail had some nice things to say about the series ('there was plenty of opportunity to enjoy Prof Brian at his boyish best'). One scene, in particular summed up the reasons why Adventurs In Space & Time worked. In a Texas bar Brian floated, weightless with excitement, as he met one of his heroes - Apollo 16's Charlie Duke, the youngest astronaut to walk on the Moon. How was it possible, Brian asked Charlie, that when computers were still not even powerful enough to run a digital watch, the Americans could stage a string of successful lunar missions? Charlie gave a wonderfully straight answer: 'Four hundred thousand people and an unlimited budget, you can do a lot.' The episode ended with extraordinary New Horizon images beamed back from Pluto. Parts of the surface are smooth as a skating rink, Brian explained, because of the subterranean ocean of water is warmed by radioactive elements despite the fact that light from the Sun takes five-and-a-half hours to reach the distant dwarf planet (as compared to the seven minutes it takes to reach us here on Earth). Mind. Blown. Brian Cox, dear blog reader, The People's Scientist. He reaches the parts that other professors of particle physicists can't. Because they've never been in the TARDIS! Remember, it's Brian's universe, we just live in it.
26. Danny Boy
BBC2's feature-length drama was broadcast in May and told the story of the real-life soldier and decorated veteran Brian Wood, accused of war crimes in Iraq by, subsequently discredited, human rights lawyer Phil Shiner. Ordeal By Innocence's Anthony Boyle played Wood, with the magnificent Toby Jones as Shiner, from a screenplay written by Robert Jones. Alex Ferns was Gavin, Brian's father and Leah McNamara featured as Brian's wife. 'It was a thoughtful, non-melodramatic meditation on what we expect of soldiers in the heat of battle and on the tightrope of maintaining decency in war,'consideredThe Times. Atypically, the Gruniadloved it (well, it featured a campaigning, albeit utterly dishonest, human rights lawyer, why wouldn't they? 'Good Lord, Toby Jones is tremendous, isn't he?' wrote Ellen Jones - no relation, one trusts - not in the least bit inaccurately). Meanwhile, wax was exploding in ears at the Torygraph. And, at the Daily Scum Mail. Blimey, it must've been a 'two buckets of exploded wax' day at Rothermere Towers when Christopher Stevens sat down to write that. Thankfully, most critics that aren't hateful right-wing bags of rancid puss took a more nuanced view to a complex and well-told story. 'Danny Boy doesn't offer any definitive answers, but rather rams home how much we still need to grapple with,'noted the Evening Standard. 'As the deeply scarred Wood, Boyle carries the emotional weight of the character without ever becoming a mere cipher for the horrors of war,'addedScreen International. For those interested in the the real-life story, at the end of the Al-Sweady Inquiry in 2014, which Wood was a part of, Sir Thayne Forbes said that some of the claims made against his regiment (and the others serving in the Battle of Danny Boy) had been 'the product of deliberate lies.' Shiner was subsequently struck off the roll of solicitors due to misconduct during the inquiry and falsification of certain cases. For once, the drama wasn't as dramatic as the shameful real-world process that it depicted. That it even got close is a tribute to all involved.
27. This Way Up
A Channel Four sitcom about Áine (From The North favourite Aisling Bea), who lives in London and is recovering from a nervous breakdown. Sounds thigh-slappingly hilarious, right? Actually ... She teaches English as a second language and, in this year's second series, has a relationship with a pupil's single father. Sharon Horgan (whom this blogger vacillates over, sometimes considering her very funny indeed and sometimes about as amusing as bucket of offal) plays Áine's older sister, Shona, a bisexual woman who lives with her male partner and is attracted to a female colleague. The rest of the cast includes Tobias Menzies, Indira Varma, Kadiff Kirwan, Sorcha Cusack and Lou Sanders (who is, as usual, really bloody annoying just as in everything she does). Rotten Tomatoes described the show as 'devastating, hilarious and surprisingly light. This Way Up captures the complexities of mental health with an empathetic - if at times wandering - eye.' Which is a pretty accurate summation. Bustlecompared the series positively with Fleabag - again, a decent comparison in that both were critical darlings, possibly a smidgen over-rated (and, in both cases, with audiences far lower than their supporters would like you to believe) but, nevertheless, indicative of some real talent at their heart(s). It also gained comparisons with Back To Life and Catastrophe in a review from the Gruniad that had its tongue rammed so far up This Way Up's collective crack there was no room for anyone else to get in there. In the case of the laugh-free zone that was Catastrophe (also featuring Horgan), the comparison only holds so far as both involve comedy of the absurd. Except that in This Way Up, it usually works. The TorygraphcalledThis Way Up'one of the best new shows of the year.'The Atlanticpraised the comedy, describing it as 'small in scope, infinitely charming and intermittently devastating.' Ultimately, the series works almost entirely because of its star and creator. 'So finely tuned is Bea's characterisation that you root for Áine and laugh with her, even as you keep a wary eye on her skidding and sliding into yet another Very Bad Time,'according to the Observer.
28. Cruel Summer
'She's not a sociopath, she's a teenage girl.' An American thriller created by Bert Royal, the series follows two teenage girls and the repercussions on everyone's lives after one of them disappears. The series premiered on Freeform in April and was quickly renewed for a second run. Set in the fictional Texas town of Skylin, each episode focuses on the same day over the course of three years: 1993, 1994 and 1995. Kate Wallis is a popular girl who one day disappears without a trace at the hands of her school's new vice principal, Martin Harris. Jeanette Turner is an awkward outsider who seemingly takes over Kate's life after she goes missing. Found alive one year later, Kate accuses Jeanette of witnessing her abduction but not reporting it, which results in Jeanette becoming 'the most despised person in America.' Through multiple lawsuits and fractured families, friendships and relationships, everyone scrambles to pick sides as the story unfolds in Rashomon style as told from different perspectives. Olivia Holt and Chiara Aurelia were superb as the central duo whilst the rest of the cast - mostly character actors that you'll never previously have heard of, plus Harley Quinn Smith - are reliable and solid. 'Cruel Summer manages to overcome its convoluted storytelling because it finds interesting, grounded ways to explore the impact of society's expectations of these young girls and how their town and own families contribute to the pressure they face,' noted The AV Club's review. 'This intriguing mystery series feels a little choppy at first, but once you get used to the fact that it's dealing out the story in slices of three different summers ... the conceit proves highly effective,'wrote the Sydney Morning Herald. 'Both Holt and Aurelia's acting keeps things moving, as does the series' technical production,'addedIndieWire. 'This is a delicious slice of fun akin to a great beach read.' The series took a while to turn up in the UK before finding a home on Amazon Prime. 'Cruel Summer understands the hot, shifting sands of teen psychology,'wrote the Observer's Barbara Ellen. 'As teen noir goes, this could prove addictive.' It's another example of what is becoming one of the Twenty First Century's most important TV rules and one that From The North is always keen to highlight - despite what some sour-faced whingers may try to convince you, there is a lot of good stuff out there, dear blog reader. But, sometimes, you have do a bit of work yourselves and actually go looking for it.
29. Mortimer & Whitehouse: Gone Fishing
A gloriously bonkers factual entertainment featuring friends, comedians and From The North favourites Bob Mortimer and Paul Whitehouse. The show focuses on Mortimer and Whitehouse reflecting on life after their shared major heart problems of the last decade, while on a series of fishing trips to various locations around Britain. The series was first broadcast on BBC2 in 2018 and has been recommissioned every year since with a fourth series shown this August and September. The show's origins lay in Mortimer's triple heart bypass surgery in 2016. Whitehouse, like Mortimer, had heart problems and was talking to Mortimer's wife, Lisa, about Bob's recovery from his operation; he discovered that Mortimer wasn't going out anymore so Whitehouse invited him to go fishing. Mortimer enjoyed it; describing it later he said 'There comes a moment when you realise that you've said nothing for an hour-and-a-half. I haven't worried about the past, or future.' This brought Mortimer out of his depressive trough and Whitehouse had the idea for the show. They thought there may be the chance to make a humorous and informative one-off which went beyond 'two old blokes going fishing.' Whitehouse described the pitch as having the real-life jeopardy of their medical conditions, two old friends who've had a reprieve and the timeless wonder of the English countryside. The BBC couldn't commission a series fast enough! In a review in the Independent, the show's continued and perhaps unexpected popularity, was highlighted. 'It's hard to explain the curious alchemy of Gone Fishing, which is rarely laugh-out-loud funny but has a soothing, unforced pace that draws you in. The production helps, using plenty of drone shots to show the country's rivers in stately majesty, but the programme relies on the performances of its leads, two of our most gifted comic performers.''It's like The Trip on statins,'added some smear of no importance at the Gruniad. 'Still perfection,' was the opinion of the i whilst the Daily Mirraconsidered it'the most beautiful and uplifting half-hour of the week ... Cool kids would probably dismiss it as two old blokes going fishing and one of them falling over but, as Bob says, "Sometimes the simple things are what works."' However, amidst the silliness there were - as the Mirra noted - more than occasional serious moments. Mortality was on Paul's mind in one particular episode. When Bob talked about watching telly to kill time, Paul hit him with a philosophical reply: 'You're watching something to pass the time? You've got no time to pass.' Then, there was the view of the Torygraph's I've Got The Power (by Snap): 'Their gift for surreal comedy has weathered the decades, as demonstrated when they plunged into a two-handed riff about filo pastry ("most healthy of the major pastries," reckoned Mortimer). Space was also found for fireside psychoanalysis. "You're the classic avoider," Mortimer told Whitehouse after his friend explained that, in order to feel alive, he had to fill his days with chores and activities.' And you should probably agree with I've Got The Power (by Snap), dear blog reader. Or he will attack. And you don't want that. This blogger adores Mortimer & Whitehouse: Gone Fishing, a majestic example of the recent trend of 'gentle' television which manages to avoid turning into Last Of The Summer Wine because ... it's got Bob Mortimer and Paul Whitehouse in it.
30. Ridley Road
A four-part BBC thriller, adapted from Jo Bloom's 2014 novel by Sarah Solemani. It was the story of the fight against fascism in 1960s London and, as such, ticked many of the required boxes in this blogger's wish-list for a drama; interesting period setting, strong source material and, well, to quote Indiana Jones, 'Nazis, I hate those guys.' Like this blogger's favourite movie of 2021, Last Night In Soho, it focused on the less-than-glamorous, seedy and dangerous side of Swingin' London. According to Solemani, the novel revealed 'a darker side of Sixties London and the staggering contribution the Jewish community made in the battle against racism.' Newcomer Aggi O'Casey was joined by From The North favourites Eddie Marsan and Rory Kinnear, Samantha Spiro, Tracy-Ann Oberman, Will Keen, Tamzin Outhwaite and Rita Tushingham in a genuinely impressive cast. The series, directed by Lucy Mulcahy, was filmed in several evocatively period-correct locations - Ashton Under Lyne, Bolton, Liverpool and at Broughton Hall near Skipton - standing in for 1960s Hackney. Ridley Road received positive critique from the Jewish Chronicle (despite finding fault with the portrayal of Jewish characters by non-Jewish actors), the Times Of Israel and the Gruniad and, not unexpectedly, a good hard kicking from some agenda-soaked louse at the Daily Scum Mail. So, pretty much exactly what you'd expect from the newspaper that had such a high regard for Herr Hitler, then.
31. The White Lotus
An American satirical comedy-drama created, written and directed by Mike White which premiered on HBO in July and, in the UK, on Sky Atlantic the following month. Filmed in Hawaii, it featured an ensemble cast which included Murray Bartlett, Connie Britton, Jennifer Coolidge, Alexandra Daddario, Jake Lacy, Natasha Rothwell and Steve Zahn. The first series, consisting of six episodes, concerned the lives of the staff and guests at the titular tropical resort. Following its critical acclaim and viewership numbers, the format was renewed as an anthology series, which will tell the story of a different group of travellers during their stay at another White Lotus property. 'It has jokes but is also deadly serious,'noted the Daily Scum Mail seemingly in shock that a) such a thing was possible and b) that they, actually, liked something. 'The characters are all sublimely well drawn, especially Jennifer Coolidge's fuzzy, lonely alcoholic and Murray Bartlett as the passive-aggressive hotel manager.''It is a self-made hell in paradise: delicious,'addedThe Times. 'Like a wasp in a strawberry daiquiri, menace seems to be lurking beneath the surface of everything here: think Agatha Christie's And Then There Were None with added tiki torches, aloha nachos and Xanax,' was The New Statesman's view whilst the Evening Standardconsidered'Dreadful rich people make for brilliant TV, but it is rare to see their privileges and prejudices skewered with such relentless precision. White's characters can be monstrous, but they are so carefully wrought that they also feel painfully human.' On the other hand, 'JB' a Rotten Tomatoes commentator suggested: 'This show sucks.' So, The White Louts's true worth almost certainly lies somewhere between those two extremes. But, probably a wee bit closer to the views expressed in the Standard than those of Mister and/or Ms JB. Just a wild stab in the dark.
32. Dark Matter: A History Of The Afrofuture
The arc of black history shares an uncanny resemblance to the plot points of classic SF including 'alien' abduction, enslavement and rebellion. It's this unlikely relationship which provides the inspiration for the concept of Afrofuturism, a broad cultural trend which encompasses works by artists as diverse as Jean-Michel Basquiat and Grace Jones, Solange Knowles and Sun Ra. In this superb BBC4 film, viewers met artists across three continents who each, in their own way, explore the Afrofuture to look at the horrors of the black past. The Afrofuture is, perhaps, most commonly associated with the avant-garde jazz musician Sun Ra. Born in America's Deep South, Ra underwent an interplanetary conversion, claiming to have been teleported to Saturn (who he breathed when he got there, he doesn't reveal). As with funk pioneer, former President George Clinton, who claims a similar close encounter with extraterrestrials, Ra's identification with an alien presence can be read as more than simple escapism. It's also a biting satire on the alienating experience of being black in America. For Ra, space is also an alternate destiny for black people, as the title of his 1973 Afrofuturist feature film Space Is The Place suggests. Reaching beyond these fictional Afronauts was the conceptual artist Tavares Strachan. His performance piece, Star City, Training In Six Parts, saw Strachan visit the Russian space centre to undergo the same tortuous training as Cosmonauts. Strachan likens one of the exercises, which measures our capacity to withstand disorientation and gravitational stress, to his impoverished upbringing in The Bahamas. The film concludes with an exploration of the idea of double consciousness. Coined in the early Twentieth Century by WEB Du Bois, the African-American sociologist, this describes how black people in Western societies see themselves twice over. Firstly, through their own experiences but also how they're perceived within a dominant white culture. Curator and writer Ekow Eshun traced uses of the Afrofuture idea in the documentary through Ralph Ellison's novel Invisible Man and painter Kerry James Marshall's image of the same title, right up to the Black Lives Matter movement. 'This compelling documentary looks at how black artists from Beyoncé to Sun Ra have processed their history by alighting on science fiction's language ... and on images of the Atlantic Ocean,'stated the Torygraph. 'Featuring contributions from artists and writers, its jumble of arresting visual images is a work of art in itself.''Afrofuturism saw black artists, writers and musicians turn alienation into empowering new myths,'added the Financial Times. A genuinely fascinating piece.
33. Too Close
From The North favourite Emily Watson starred in this psychological three-part ITV thriller. Based on the novel by Natalie Daniels (the pseudonym of actor-writer Clara Salaman, who also wrote the screenplay) and directed with considerable flair by former actress Susan Tully, it was about a forensic psychiatrist treating a patient (Denise Gough) who had committed a heinous crime that, she claims, she doesn't remember. The two women become locked in a dark struggle of influence and manipulation. Too Close was filmed in London and Kent, with many of the scenes between Watson and Gough shot inside Holloway Prison. It was broadcast across three successive evenings in April and drew decent-sized audiences. Critical reception to the series was positive. The Gruniadnoted: 'Too Close, ITV's latest offering ... will stay with you for the right reasons.' The Standard and the Independent were also supportive (the latter suggesting that the series 'rakes over a full suite of Middle-Class anxieties, from sex and class to parenting and race'). The Wall Street Journalpraised Tully's direction and the performances of Watson and Gough. Near enough every aspect to the thriller genre was implemented at some stage, but with considerable flair and just the right degree of subversion where necessary. Beside betrayal, grief, fear and distress, the story also tackled the tricky subject of failure, both on a personal level, but perhaps even more about when neither the closest relations or the system are there when we need them the most but, more often than not, just make things worse. In that context, the title was not only appropriate, it was also an accurate series summation.
34. The Beast Must Die
A BritBox thriller based on the acclaimed novel by Cecil Day-Lewis, adapted by Gaby Chiappe. It centred on a mother's grief for her son who was killed in vehicle accident. She then takes matters into her own hands by posing as a novelist to ingratiate herself into the family of the man whom she believed to be responsible for her son's death. The cast included Cush Jumbo, Nathaniel Parker, Maeve Dermody, Douggie McMeekin, Mia Tomlinson, Geraldine James and Jared Harris. 'Brace yourselves, caulkheads, this view of your pleasant seagirt home is far from complimentary,'wrote the Financial Times' Suzi Feay. No, dear blog reader, this blogger has no idea what she was talking about either but, he thinks, she quite liked it. The series 'balances harsh judgement with empathy, an apt approach for these divided times,'added the San Francisco Chronicle. Other critics were no less effusive, the Gruniadstating: 'It sets the bar pleasingly high, with a stellar cast giving uniformly great performances.''Geraldine James has fun playing George's sister, an absolute horror who really shouldn't be such a crashing snob given that her own family home is filled with hideous objets d'art,'added the Torygraph whilst even The Sunday Times' resident faceache, Camilla Long, in an otherwise critical review, felt compelled to add: 'What can I say about this absolute overstuffed mess of a bleak thriller, except I came to kind of enjoy it?' As back-handed compliments go, that's a pretty good one. As more than one critic noted, The Beast Must Die was patchy and flawed, but was saved from mediocrity 'thanks to powerhouse performances and a closing image that is as beautiful as it is haunting.' Unlike Paul Annett's 1974 chiller of the same name, however, this did not include a short break for the audience to decide which of the characters is a werewolf. Which was a pity, frankly - this blogger would've rather enjoyed such a conceit. But in every other respect, The Beast Must Die was worthy of the comparison.
35. Bloodlands
A second series has already been ordered of the BBC's Belfast-set crime drama, which starred From The North favourites Jimmy Nesbitt and Michael Smiley. The thriller, from writer Chris Brandon, revolved around a cold case that held personal significance for Nesbitt's detective and dug up buried secrets for him and for the people of Belfast. Susan Lynch, Ian McElhinney and Lisa Dwan were also among the cast. Abby Robinson, reviewing for the Digital Spy website, described the opening episode as 'heavily plot-driven, which comes at the expense of character developments.' whilst the Gruniadsaid the drama was 'enjoyably dense with enough black humour to let it breathe.' In the Irish Times, Horse Power claimed the first episode was 'grim - and a seriously bad advertisement for a weekend break in Belfast.' The Radio Times's called it'an unpredictable thriller with all the hallmarks of a Jed Mercurio drama ... Bloodlands is a detective drama with ever-changing pace, excellent performances from its stellar cast, scenic Belfast backdrops and a multi-layered plot that'll leave you counting down the days until the next episode airs.''This slow-burning but not overlong mystery contains no wild, subversive stylistic flourishes; it's just a chilly, thoughtful, well-written and superbly acted story that connects specific, personal grief with the larger understanding,'addedTime magazine. Bloodlands glacial atmosphere and brooding menace took a while to used to, but the longer it went on, the more viewers were drawn into its cold, dark heart. And, of course, Nesbitt was as magnetic as usual.
36. Resident Alien
Far funnier than its farcical premise should allow, this comedy-drama based on a Dark Horse comic provided viewers with some much-needed escapism and became Syfy's highest-rated new drama in recent years. Alan Tudyk starred as Harry Vanderspeegle - real name, utterly unpronounceable - an alien who, after crash-landing in the mountains outside Patience, Colorado, killed and took the physical form of the first man he encountered. After a stint alone in a fishing cabin learning English by watching Law & Order repeats, the audience learns that Harry's secret mission on Earth is to destroy humanity. But, tragically, he's lost his detonation device, so he needs to assimilate into his new home to buy enough time to recover it. Tudyk brilliantly reveals the alien's flawed personality, flicking between comedy and menace with ease, as we follow Harry posing unconvincingly as the town's doctor. Things, however, are going to plan until Harry gets embroiled in solving a local murder, bringing him closer to the townsfolk and, especially, his workmate Asta (Sara Tomko), while he also discovers a love of pizza. As time goes on, Harry begins to wrestle with the moral dilemma of his mission. Resident Alien sounds daft. And, in fact, it is - this is a series in which Tudyk's former Firefly co-star Nathan Fillion voices an octopus in a restaurant tank, with whom Harry has a telepathic conversation. Terry O'Quinn plays an 'alien experiencer' who hosts a popular podcast. Corey Reynolds is Mike, the town's sheriff, who asks people to call him 'Big Black' (a few, nervously, comply). It's got ludicrous plots and proves a perfect showcase for Tudyk's comedic skills. Resident Alien, as the Gruniadnoted, 'knows what it is doing and does it with admirable sincerity. It deploys well-worn tropes without cynicism and plays with others without winking exhaustingly at its audience.''Turning a concept as old as My Favourite Martian into something fresh and funny isn't easy, but Resident Alien somehow manages that, fuelled by its dark, offbeat tone and Alan Tudyk's otherworldly skill playing the title character,'addedCNN. In March, the series was renewed for further episodes.
37. Loki
Following the success of the wonderful, oddball WandaVision (see below), this latest (and much-anticipated) Marvel series on Disney+ once again delivered, with a chaotic, time-hopping misadventure focused on Tom Hiddleston's so-far-over-the-top-he's-down-the-other-side God of Mischief. Following the events of Avengers: Endgame, trickster Prince of Asgard Loki, escapes imprisonment through a time portal, only to find himself in the clutches of The Minutemen, an elite team of soldiers working for The Time Variance Authority to track down any pesky disruptions of the flow of time. Occupying a drab 1950s retro-futuristic style office, the TVA's bureaucrats govern what they call 'the sacred timeline' and 'prune' anyone who messes with reality. Loki comes to the attention of senior agent Mobius (Owen Wilson), who arranges a reprieve from Judge Renslayer (Gugu Mbatha-Raw), persuading her to allow him to recruit the not-even-remotely-trustworthy Loki to help repair the issues he has created in the timeline. Wunmi Mosaku, Eugene Cordero, Tara Strong, Sophia Di Martino, Sasha Lane, Jack Veal, DeObia Oparei, Richard E Grant, and Jonathan Majors also feature in this attractive, frequently hilarious six-parter created by Michael Waldron. Reviewers highlighted the relationship between Hiddleston's Loki and Wilson's Mobius. The various design elements of Loki, particularly the production design from Kasra Farahani and the cinematography from Autumn Durald Arkapaw, were also praised. TVLine's Matt Webb Mitovitch felt Hiddleston 'effortlessly slips back' into this version of Loki and explained that the banter was 'a significant upgrade from what Falcon and Winter Soldier believed it was doing.' Daniel Fienberg of The Hollywood Reportersaid'after two episodes, Loki is at a tipping point. Having set everything up to an exhausting degree, things could be lined up to get really entertaining - if not zany in a Rick and Morty way, perhaps fun in some of the timeline rupture-of-the-week ways [of] The CW's Legends Of Tomorrow ... Or Loki might just be a lot of Hiddleston and Wilson talking, which might still be engaging for six episodes.'RogerEbert.com, calledLoki'an exciting and genuinely inspired addition to Marvel storytelling, one that spins off and rockets its complicated villain into original territory with the help of time travel' adding the series was 'bound to be a sci-fi gem.' In her review for the final episode, Caroline Siede at The AV Club website felt the series had been 'both unpredictable and weirdly straightforward; bold in its game-changing moves yet inconsequential in so many of its narrative choices.''The show's creator, Michael Waldron, and director, Kate Herron, have laid out a rather elegant framework for their plans,'added the Independent's Clarisse Loughrey whilst Detroit Newsraved'the breezy attitude seems right for the show's scant six episodes ... He may be the God of Mischief and a mass murderer but Loki knows how to show you a good time.' As many critics have said, it is Hiddleston and Wilson that make Loki so compelling, witty and, just occasionally, dangerous. A second series has, of course, been commissioned (no shit?) and is currently in development.
38. Annika
Nick Walker's drama was based on his Radio 4 serial Annika Stranded. Produced for the Alibi channel, the first episode was broadcast August. Annika Strandhed is a Detective Inspector, recently transferred to the Glasgow Marine Homicide Unit. She brings with her a troublesome teenage daughter (Silvie Furneaux) and the relationship between Annika and her daughter is the basis for a sub-plot across all the episodes. The title role was played by From The North favourite Nicola Walker (no relation to the writer) in her first post-Unforgotten role whilst another blog favourite, Paul McGann, had a role as a child therapist. Annika has broken records to become Alibi's most-watched drama for at least seven years. The Gruniad's review stated: 'She's a daffy Norwegian supercop with a dodgy accent. But Walker's droll dialogue and womansplaining should keep you waterside for the long haul.' The Radio Timesadded: 'Not everything works in the first episode of the crime drama - but the central case is gripping enough.' The Killing Times website also reviewed the first episode: 'It's great to have Walker back on our screens and although Annika feels a bit light ... it's still worth a watch.' It's hard to reconcile the i's dubious claim that the series resembled, in any way, 'Agatha Christie meets Trainspotting' though.
39. The Bee Gees: How Can You Mend A Broken Heart?
This blogger has always regarded them-there Bee Gees as hugely under-rated. Which, considering they're, what, something like the eighth biggest selling act in the history of popular music may sound like an odd statement to make. Nevertheless, it's true. Not so much via the disco stuff - this blogger is fine with all that, it's great pop music, after all - but certainly with those early, singer/songwriter, proto-Beatles records they made in the late 1960s. Frank Marshall's documentary demonstrated exactly why The Brothers Gibb were so important and why they loom so large in this blogger's legend. With the passing of his younger brothers Maurice and Robin, it's now left to Barry to tell a story that goes from The Isle Of Man, via Manchester and Queensland, to London, Florida and Los Angeles. 'A fitting tribute to their unending love for each other,' noted critic Robert Daniels. '[It] doesn't delve too deeply into The Bee Gees' inter-group beefs, but we do learn a lot,'added the NME. Noel Gallagher, one of several top-tier talking heads, said he was 'blown away' when he first heard The Bee Gees music and observed: 'When you've got brothers singing, it's like an instrument nobody else can buy.' And, he should know. Often, musical documentaries are as much about what isn't said as what is (case in point, last year's acclaimed From The North favourite The Go-Go's). There's remarkably little in How Can You Mend A Broken Heart? about the period when Robin left for a solo career, for example. Perhaps that's inevitable given the clear rawness with which Barry speaks about his late brother's passing. 'The Bee Gees brought worldwide pleasure, but sole survivor Barry says he'd "rather have [his brothers] all back here and have no hits at all,"'noted Andrew Collins in the Radio Times. Hence, perhaps, the title - one of the band's biggest hits in the US from 1971 though it did nothing in the UK at a time where the trio were having something of a career downturn. 'An interesting, grown-up musical profile,'said the Gruniad, as though surprised that such a thing were possible. This was a great tribute to a culturally important act who started a joke which started the whole world singing. As a fan, it made this blogger happy and sad at the same time. As a TV critic, it fulfilled everything you'd want from a career retrospective and the story of three boys who grew up to experience everything from night fever to tragedy.
40. Midnight Mass
An American horror series created and directed by Mike Flanagan and starring Zach Gilford, Kate Siegel, Hamish Linklater, Samantha Sloyan, Rahul Kohli and Henry Thomas. The plot centred on an isolated island community which experienced supernaturally spooky doings after the arrival of a charismatic priest. It was released on Netflix in September. Flanagan described Midnight Mass as a passion project, one that was 'deeply personal' and dealt intimately with Flanagan's upbringing in the Catholic Church and his eventual sobriety and atheism. Production was originally scheduled to commence in March 2020, but was delayed due to the pandemic. Critics praised Flanagan's direction, the performances and the series''unique' approach to the vampire genre. Kristen Baldwin of Entertainment Weeklywrote that it 'isn't perfect, but it is a keenly affecting, beautifully acted reflection on death, faith, guilt, addiction and the power of free will.' Judy Berman of Time gave it a very positive review (One Hell Of A Hallow'een Binge), calling it Flanagan's 'best series to date' and praising the performances of Gilford, Siegel and, especially, Linklater. Vulture described Linklater's performance 'phenomenal' and believed he elevated the series to 'moments of greatness,'adding: 'he speaks as if he's discovering his way through every sentence and wants you to come with him.'Rolling Stainconsidered that 'the three-layers-deep work that Linklater is doing over these seven episodes is extraordinary.' They also praised Flanagan's directing, stating 'It's the way that [he] carefully sets everything into place in anticipation of a bigger-picture nightmare that makes the pay-offs so satisfying.' The Chicago Sun-Timescalled the series'the best Stephen King story Stephen King never wrote' and stated, 'even though this is an original work from Flanagan, it feels like a high-level adaptation of a particularly haunting King novel.' The scripting and pace drew more mixed responses, with occasional criticism directed at a perceived overabundance of monologues. Jack Seale of the Gruniad, for example, praised Flanagan's filmmaking, but whinged about the series''bloated dialogue' stating that 'When the end comes at last, there is a lot of fire and viscera, but no rapture.' This blogger bets Jack gave himself the day off after he came up with that line. Ultimately, Midnight Mass works on most levels - some of the dialogue is, admittedly, drawn from an inferior-William-Peter-Blatty-school of scary religious tropes. But, to counter this are performances of subtlety and wit and scares which manage to avoid any quiet-quiet-quiet-bang malarkey and use suspense instead.
41. WandaVision
Not many people would have predicted that Marvel's foray into TV would be quite as affecting as WandaVision. Starring Elizabeth Olsen as Wanda Maximoff and Paul Bettany as her cyborg partner, Vision, the show played out as a slow-burning examination of Wanda's grief, as told through a variety of - really affecting - sitcom tropes. Each episode was meant to capture key elements of the chosen time period while showing the evolution of sitcoms over the decades. For example, the first episode pays specific homage to The Dick Van Dyke Show. Those early episodes were such joyfully accurate pastiches of the classic US comedy form, that it was almost a shame when the show devolved into more typical Marvel fare in its latter stages of the series. Nevertheless, it still counts as the MCU's most daring move yet, a piece which both offered sharp meta-commentary on the medium of television and a poignant exploration of sadness. Olsen and Bettany navigated the tonal shifts masterfully as the titular couple, though it was Kathryn Hahn who stole the show as their jarringly enthusiastic neighbour, Agnes. The series received numerous accolades, including twenty three Primetime EMMY Award nominations (winning three of them). WandaVision directly set-up the film Doctor Strange In The Multiverse Of Madness (scheduled for 2022), in which Olsen will reprise her role, whilst a TV spin-off is currently in development, with Hahn returning. Critics response, needless to say, was overwhelmingly positive with praise given by media as diverse as Bitch Media, Pop Matters, Nashville Scene, Bust Magazine, Starburst, Salon, the Gruniad, What She Said, the Los Angeles Times, The Jam Report, the BBC Culture website, USA Today, Den Of Geek, Vulture, the Torygraph's Battery Power, Variety, NME and the Daily Mirra. Basically, everyone and their dog loved it. And, the few sour-faced clots that didn't - see this plank, for instance - missed the point entirely. This blogger's only, slight, reservation was with an occasional archness which rendered a couple of the later episodes as slightly too clever for their own good. But, that's a very minor complaint about a genuinely beautiful drama.
42. Black Narcissus
Based on the 1939 novel by Rumer Godden (and, more directly, Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger's 1946 film adaptation, one of this blogger's favourite movies), Black Narcissus featured one of the final screen performances of From The North favourite Dame Diana Rigg, who died in September 2020. An Anglican nun (Sister Clodagh, played by From The North favourite pouty, luscious Gemma Arterton) was sent to establish a branch of her order with her fellow sisters in the Himalayas but struggled to temper her attraction to a World War I veteran they meet. The cast also included Alessandro Nivola, Aisling Franciosi (as the mad-as-a-bag-of-cats Sister Ruth), Jim Broadbent, another From The North favourite Wor Geet Canny Gina McKee and Rosie Cavaliero. It was broadcast in the US in November 2020 on F/X whilst Britain got it in the final days of last year, the first episode going out on 27 December on BBC1. Amanda Coe's script managed to maintain most of the memorable set-pieces from the novel/movie, notably the vertigo-inducing bell tower sequence (though Arterton and Franciosi's hissy cat-fight wasn't a patch on Deborah Kerr and Kathleen Byron going a full fifteen rounds, two-falls-or-a-submission in Powell and Pressburger's masterpiece). It received mixed (indeed, rather sniffy) reviews from US critics but seemed to go down much better in the UK. The Gruniad Morning Starcalled it'erotic, gothic - and totally unconvincing.' The Torygraphdescribed the first episode as 'the hills are alive with the sound of sexually-charged nuns.' Ho. And, indeed, ho. 'Black Narcissus'is a beautiful production but its melancholic tone is a hard sell to keep audiences sustained over three episodes,'addedIndieWire's Kristen Lopez which gets to the heart of both Black Narcissus' strengths and weaknesses. Danish cinematographer Charlotte Bruus Christensen's TV directing debut certainly boasted a plethora of searing imagery, many talking points and opportunities for more than a few raised eyebrows.
43. Grace
From Endeavour creator Russell Lewis came two feature-length adaptations of Peter James' crime novel series about a Brighton-based Detective Superintendent. Life On Mars' John Simm - in his finest performance in a couple of years - played the unorthodox investigator Roy Grace, who was haunted by the disappearance of his wife, in two-hour versions of Dead Simple and Looking Good Dead. The first film, which was broadcast in March, revolved around a cold case and a groom who mysteriously went missing days before his wedding and the second was shown in May, featuring a grand turn from From The North favourite Craig Parkinson. Both episodes attracted very good ratings making the possibility of further excursions into the Grace world more than likely. The Daily Scum Mail and The Times both gave the series a right pants-down hiding and the Torygraph a sort-of 'don't think too hard about it' review, but most of the rest of the critique was highly positive, notably the Gruniadgushing: 'Grace's attendance at a support group, his communing with missing-person cold cases in his bleak little office - are clunkily scripted weak points. The engine stutters, but it purrs along so smoothly the rest of the time that it hardly matters.'
44. Shadow & Bone
An American fantasy drama developed by Eric Heisserer for Netflix which premiered in April. It was based on two series of books in the 'Grishaverse' created by Leigh Bardugo: her trilogy, the first of which was 2012's Shadow & Bone and the duology that began with Six Of Crows (2015). Grisha are people who can practice the 'Small Science'. Ravka is one of few places they can live safely; there they are trained for The Second Army and divided into three orders. Etherealki summon natural elements like wind or fire, Materialki control materials such as metal and glass and Corporalki manipulate people's bodies. Ravka's Second Army is led by General Kirigan, who has spent his life searching for a Grisha who can summon light; the only person who could destroy the Shadow Fold - a region of impenetrable darkness, created hundreds of years ago. Since then, Ravka has been at war and is now on the brink of splitting in two as the West seeks independence. Yes, it all does sound a lot Game Of Thrones-meets-The Hunger Games-down-the-pub-for-a-fight. And, it occasionally suffers from the excesses of those - and similar - fantasy formats; a series of very good actors, standing in what appears to be a Medieval castle annunciating cod-Shakespearian dialogue of the 'verily, thence Meister Zangruntsplatter did venture forth into The Valleys of Thangdoddle, there to do battle with The Shaboogans and their grubby spawn' type malarkey.
Nevertheless mostly, like Game Of Thrones, Shadow & Bone was a lot of fun with a quality cast that includes Jessie Mei Li, Archie Renaux, Cody Molko, Freddy Carter, Amita Suman, Kit Young, Ben Barnes and Zoë Wanamaker and the likes of Kevin Eldon, Luke Pasqualino and Daisy Head cropping up in smaller roles. Writing in the Daily Star (no, not that one), Yaameen Al-Muttaqi praised the changes made from the source material, noting that 'the years added to each character's age allows the series to explore darker themes, like abuse, corruption, propaganda, manipulation, and human trafficking without breaking audience immersion or pulling punches, as is the case with too many YA adaptations.'Empire's Ben Travis noted: 'Shadow & Bone remains compelling while tasking viewers with grasping the Grisha terminology for themselves, showing rather than telling,' but pointed out similarities between the series and the Harry Potter movies, The Hunger Games and Game Of Thrones and described some elements of the series as being 'overly confusing.' He concluded that the series 'will draw you into The Fold with its absorbing world-building and engaging lead duo.' Nicole Clark of IGNwrote that 'the first season manages to capture much of the darker magic ... while being unafraid to make smart changes to certain characters' origin stories and even the sequence of events - even if the storylines from the two series of books don't always easily mesh.' Molly Freeman of Screen Rantpraised it as a 'thrillingly exciting fantasy drama.''It flies by over the course of eight episodes of magic, espionage, violence and romance-in other words, all of the necessary ingredients to satisfy a fantasy fan,'notedTime magazine. 'Shadow & Bone succeeds where so many fantasy adaptations fail if you stay with it and understand that it requires a bit of patience,'addedLA Weekly. 'It takes inventive writing and great acting to really bring a world to life like this.'
45. The Pembrokeshire Murders
This three-part ITV crime drama starred Luke Evans as Detective Superintendent Steve Wilkins, who, in 2006, reopened and solved a cold case from the 1980s using new forensic DNA evidence and, most bizarrely, an episode of ITV's darts-based quiz show Bullseye. Keith Allen played John Cooper, the man in Wilkins' sights in his most eye-rolling role since Inspector Morse's The Day Of The Devil thirty years ago. The Gruniad, described the drama as 'no glory for violent, rotten crimes,' while The Timessaid the show was 'a case of too much cop and not enough killer.' What's That Cummings Over The Hill (Is It A Monster?) in the Independentcriticised the programme for following dramatic clichés and poor script-writing. But, nobody cares what Something Wicked This Way Cumming opines. About anything. 
46. Feel Good
It takes real confidence to shift the direction of a show from one series to the next, but that was what the brilliant comedian-writer Mae Martin (star and co-creator with Joe Hampson) did with the second series of this semi-autobiographical comedy-drama broadcast on Channel Four. Where the first run set itself up as a gentle romantic comedy centred on the contrasting lives, chemistry and combustions of nascent couple Mae and George (Charlotte Ritchie), the second was much more tightly-focused on a particular theme, as Mae faced up to the shadow cast by the harassment and abuse she had suffered - most centrally, her grooming as a teenager by an older man who was now a friend. In exploring a reckoning with historic abuse, it felt timely, but in no way calculatedly so and the fact it was rooted in autobiography was evident in the nuance with which it depicted Mae's conflicting emotions. Indeed, for all the disarming charm of both its writing and its star, it felt of a piece with previous From The North favourite Michaela Coel's I May Destroy You in its very singular study of trauma and its effects. Sadly - but probably rightly - there will be no more, but Martin, a gifted comedian, surely has a big future ahead: indeed, another Netflix show is, reportedly, already in the works.
47. Finding Alice
From The North favourite Keeley Hawes starred as the titular heroine of this series, a woman who discovers a host of unsettling secrets when her partner Harry unexpectedly dies just as they finally move into their newly built dream house. Roger Goldby and Simon Nye's black comedy was broadcast on ITV early in the year and also starred a whole team of From The North favourites - Joanna Lumley, Nigel Havers, Ken Cranham, Gemma Jones - as well as Ayesha Dharker, Sharon Rooney, Rhashan Stone, Graeme Hawley and others. Eleanor Bley Griffiths in the Radio TimesdescribedFinding Alice as an 'interesting and ambitious drama,' adding that Keeley Hawes 'gives a masterful performance.' Ben Dover of The Timessaid the drama's 'classy acting outweighs the shopworn plot.' The Gruniad's reviewer declared'thank God for Nigel Havers and Joanna Lumley' (and, so say all of us, frankly) whilst the Torygraph, couldn't work out what the series was trying to be: 'a thriller, a comedy, or an episode of Grand Designs? Good performances and some funny lines for Joanna Lumley, but it's pitched oddly between a thriller and a romcom.''I've never seen six episodes of a supposed one-off that ended so hangingly, if that's a word, with Hawes getting prepped with soft music and a cold turkey baster,'said the Observer, spoilerifically. And, 'hangingly'isn't a word (though it probably should be). Dramas starring Keeley Hawes are normally about as safe a bet as you can find in TV - she is brilliant in pretty much everything and Finding Alice is no different. It was a witty, if somewhat over-long, drama about grief and poor decisions. There were a few too many subplots and the ending was, well, odd, but it did maintain the interest of the audience for most of the way.
48. Stephen
Based on the - appalling - true story of the 1993 racially-motivated murder of London teenager Stephen Lawrence, his family's fight for justice and the (at times, criminally inept) police investigation(s) which, finally, led to some competence and the convictions of two of his killers in 2012. Stephen was a direct sequel to Paul Greengrass's 1999 TV movie The Murder Of Stephen Lawrence. The series featured Steve Coogan in the role of Detective Chief Inspector Clive Driscoll, upon whose book, In Pursuit Of The Truth the drama was based. It also starred Sharlene Whyte as Doreen and Hugh Quarshie as Neville, Stephen's dignified parents. The drama was written by Frank Cottrell-Boyce and his son, Joe and directed by Alrick Riley. 'In this riveting drama, Coogan stars as DCI Clive Driscoll, who finally investigates the racist killing of Stephen Lawrence fully, underlining the extra years of agony his parents had to endure,'noted the Gruniad. 'Powerful and heartbreaking'added the Independent whilst the series also drew praise from the Evening Chronicle, the Digital Spy website, the Daily Scum Mail (a newspaper which, despite its scummish right-wing utterings in other areas, it should be rmembered led calls for a full investigation into the police's failure to successfully prosecute those believed responsible for the crime for years), Metro and the Torygraph. As the latter said, this was 'a respectful reflection of the determination of Stephen Lawrence's parents to keep fighting for justice.' The case, of course, remains a cause célèbre for the appallingly casual way that - often semi-conscious - institutional racism poisoned large parts of British society for decades; its fallout included cultural changes to attitudes on racism and to the law and police practice. It also led to the partial revocation of the rules against Double Jeopardy. The murder and its after-effects have been the subject of previous acclaimed dramas and of numerous documentaries (most notably the BBC's three-part Stephen: The Murder That Changed A Nation in 2018). That the Cottrell-Boyces lyrical and measured drama managed to find something new to say was, in and of itself, worthy of considerable praise.
49. Blitz Spirit With From The North Favourite Lucy Worsley/Raiders Of The Lost Past With From The North Favourite Janina Ramirez/From The North Favourite Qi/From The North Favourite Would I Lie To You?/From The North Favourite Only Connect

Because, dear blog reader, this is a From The North annual 'Best Of' list and, in Keith Telly Topping's world, some things never change. Thankfully.
What can this blogger say, dear blog readers? Keith Telly Topping is a man of somewhat singular predictability. Sometimes.
50. The Trump Show: Downfall/Trump Takes On The World
As covered in some depth in last year's From The NorthCuriosity Of The Year now-extremely-former President Mister Rump lost the 2020 erection. A lot. It was quite funny. Actually, no, it was very funny. And, despite a series of increasingly desperate attempts to gaffer-tape himself to The Oval Office chair and carry on as if nothing untoward had happened, including an attempted coup d'état by people dressed as bison, in January he got his over-sized ass hauled onto a plane and flown back to Florida. That was funny too, especially the moment when they started playing 'YMCA' just as he walked up the steps of Air Force One - the metaphorical equivalent of an actor leaving the stage with his trousers round his ankles. As a consequence of all this and the fact that someone vaguely sensible is now President, no one - at least for the time being - needed to be a'feared of the orange-faced cretin any longer. Thus, it was time for TV companies all over the world to start making retrospectives about his disastrous and occasionally terrifying four years as The Man with his finger on The Button. The BBC led the way with these two fine mini-series. Rob Coldstream's The Trump Show: Downfall, broadcast in January (a sequel to his three-part series shown in late 2020), charted Mister Rump's final months as President as he attempted to win - and, subsequently, overturn the results of - the 2020 erection culminating in scenes of violent insurrection against the US Congress. Advisers and close observers told the story of Rump's last days in the bunker, from packed rallies - held as the coronavirus besieged America - to the sickening riots on Capitol Hill and increasingly deranged fabricated claims of erection fraud. The film provided a blow-by-blow account of the final weeks of Rump's administration - and a psychological study of Rump's final days in power. The title Downfall was, of course, an allusion to Oliver Hirschbiegel's 2004 movie Der Untergang about the last days of Adolf Hitler as paranoia and denial sent the Nazi leader mad. Or, madder than he already was, anyway. It was an entirely apt simile.
Unsurprisingly, the Torygraph found something to whinge about, describing the documentary as 'superficial and with nothing important to say.' Apart from 'get stuffed Donny, you orange clown and don't let the door hit your buttocks on the way out' obviously. Which, you know, some people might regard as quite important. Just a couple of weeks later, another three-part BBC series, Tim Stirzaker's Trump Takes On The World looked at a different aspect of now-extremely-former President Rump's reign of terror, US foreign policy - or lack of it. In his first year-and-a-half in The White House, Rump managed to fall out, spectacularly, with some of America's oldest allies as he relentlessly pursued his 'America First' agenda. From withdrawing from the Paris climate accord to cosying up to The Butcher of Grozny, Rump shattered the status quo. Which could be regard as a (very) minor point in his favour - certainly, many people were heard to chorus 'I like it, I like it, I like it, I like it, I lie-lie-lie-like it.' This blogger is here all week, dear blog reader, don't forget to tip the waiting staff. Rump, of course, even threatened the most critical of all American alliances. As former UK foreign secretary The Vile & Odious Rascal Hunt said: 'NATO was probably in the greatest peril it's ever been in its history.' With first-hand accounts from key players, the series took viewers inside crucial meetings and summits where the US president shocked - and stunned - his counterparts with his crass daftness. The Gruniad and the Independent both gave the series glowing coverage and, this time, even the Torygraph found little to whinge about. 'A glimpse inside the ruthless workings of US imperialism,'wrote someone at the Socialist Worker. How many Revolutionary Socialists does it take to change a lightbulb, dear blog readers? None, they don't want to change it they want to smash it. To paraphrase Billy Connolly on the subject of politicians, 'don't vote for them, it just encourages them.'

Also Mentioned In Dispatches: Britain's Favourite Walks, Spaceship Earth, Traces, Steve McQueen: The Lost Movie, Winter Walk, Walking Hadrian's Wall With Wor Geet Canny Robson Green, Mark Kermode's Secrets Of Cinema, Age Of The Image, Forest Field & Sky, Your Honour, A Teacher, Devils, Attenborough's Life In Colour, Finding Jack Charlton, Starstuck, Dark Son: The Hunt For A Serial Killer, Gamestop - The Wall Street Hijack, Match Of The Day Top Ten, Ghislaine Maxwell: Epstein's Shadow, Killing Escobar, Succession, What We Do In The Shadows, All Creatures Great & Small, Losing Alice, Kevin Can Fuck Himself, Brand New Cherry Flavour, Scenes From A Marriage, The Chair, Servant, Hemmingway, Doctor Death, The Handmaids Tale, Alma's Not Normal, Pretend It's A City, Made For Love, Reservation Dogs, For All Mankind, The Flight Attendant, Time, 1971: The Year That Music Changed Everything, Only Murders In The Building, The Underground Railroad, Angela Black, Evil, Wolffe, Miracle Workers: Oregon Trail, McCartney Three Two One, The North Water, The Capote Tapes, Q: Into The Storm, Paris Police 1900, Showtrial.

Thirty Programmes (And One Advert) Which Were, Frankly, Neither Use Nor Bloody Ornament And Should, In Any Sort Of Sane World, Have Been Shovelled Into The Nearest Gutter With All The Other Effluence -

1. Mel Gedroyc: Unforgiveable
The opening episode of Dave's Mel Giedroyc: Unforgiveable was broadcast in February. And it was, as this blogger had confidently expected in advance from the avalanche of trailers, thoroughly shite. I mean, offensively shite. You would have to be a brain-damaged moron, or the victim of a cruel medical experiment not to consider it shite, dear blog reader. And, contrary to occasional appearances, this blogger is many things but he is neither of those two. As previously discussed in both the 2020 and 2019From The North Worst Of lists - in relation to Comedians Giving Lectures, Taskmaster, Hypotheticalet al - and, indeed, at the tail-end of last year - concerning Big Zuu's Big Eats (see below) - Dave's 'original' comedy output is, for the most part, a right flamin' disaster area. Loaded with the usual parade of loud, unfunny, 'very popular with students', obnoxious, full-of-their-own-importance planks masquerading as comedians. Plus, in the opening episode of this particular format, Graham Norton who looked embarrassed to be there. Ben Wicks, who is the Executive Producer at Expectation Productions (so, this fiasco is his fault), suggested that Giedroyc - whom this blogger does have a bit of time for, even if her post-Bake Off CV has been a parade of one flop format after another - would be performing 'a vital public service: deciding which of Britain's funniest and most entertaining people are the biggest wrong uns.' And, if you replace the words 'Britain's funniest and most entertaining people' with 'annoying drips like of Ed Gamble, Phil Wang and Lou Sanders' and the words 'vital public service' with 'something which no one in the public actually asked for but which we're being given anyway,' that's a slightly more accurate description of what Unforgiveable was really all about. And, one just couldn't escape it no matter how hard you tried. Watching the end of a repeat of Whitehouse & Mortimer: Gone Fishing on Dave a couple of weeks later, this blogger was wholly unprepared for the sudden, unwelcome appearance across the credits of the voice of Ms Giedroyc. She was plugging a forthcoming episode of Unforgivable. 'Join me on Tuesday where my guest will be Tom Allen, Gemma Collins and Darren Harriott' begged Mel in her perky - not entirely unappealing - 'will you come and get it like a big funky sex machine?'-style voice that we all know from Bake Off. This blogger merely had time to bellow at the Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House widescreen tellybox 'no thanks, Mel, I'd sooner stab me own eyes out with toasting forks' before he found the remote control. And thence, changed the channel to something less utterly worthless. Which, trust yer actual Keith Telly Topping, was every bit as much of a relief as a nice healthy dose of Bicarbonate of Soda when one needs a short-term cure for indigestion. As the Chortle website noted, Giedroyc 'has been saddled with a format that she doesn't even have much confidence in, the needlessly complex negative scoring, unnecessary gong and convoluted rounds becoming a running joke even from episode one.''Everyone involved should be thoroughly ashamed of themselves' is a phrase, possibly the most damning imaginable for any movie or TV show, which was used by the film critic and From The North favourite Mark Kermode to describe the 2005 movie Hide & Seek, in which Robert de Niro delivered one of his most 'just give me the cheque' performances. It's also a useful phrase to describe the majority of '[allegedly] original comedy' formats which appears on the Dave channel. And, the overwhelming majority of the people who feature in them. Like Comedians Giving Lectures, Unforgiveable is unbearably obnoxious. Like Taskmaster it is, at times, buttock-squirmingly embarrassing (and not in a remotely good way). Like Big Zuu's Big Eats is it loud and shouty and almost unwatchable in its nauseating self-importance. Like Outsiders, it's stuffed with people you would not want to find yourself stuck in the woods with. And, this blogger says all of the above not as a professional comedian himself - Keith Telly Topping wouldn't know one end of a joke from another if it presented itself to him on a bed of fried rice and chips looking all delicious and sexy - but, rather, as a licence fee payer (Dave's parent company, UKTV, is wholly owned by BBC Studios). You know, one of those annoying 'little people' that pays your sodding - one presumes, grossly inflated - wages, Mel. Just sayin', like.
2. Big Zuu's Big Eats
This blogger had the extreme misfortune to catch an episode Dave's Big Zuu's Big Eats during the final days of 2020. If you haven't come across it previously, dear blog reader, count yourselves extremely fortunate indeed. This ... thing features the titular Big Zuu, who is a large chap and is a chef - probably quite a good one judging by some of the dishes he is shown cooking. He certainly seems to think so. He is, also, apparently a rapper-type-individual of some sort who is 'massive' on 'the Grime scene.' Whatever that entails. And, he speaks in a language which this blogger did not, initially, recognise as English or anything even remotely like it. In this programme his - self-appointed, please note - task is to whip up meals for a several of those bloody awful, wholly unfunny planks who so stink up the majority of Dave's 'original [alleged] comedy output.' All the stuff which, they claim (incorrectly) is 'surprisingly adequate.' So, if the thought of spending an hour in the company of the likes of Phil Wang or Desiree Burch is your idea of genital torture, dear blog reader, this might not be the programme for you. But, as painfully bad as this blogger has made it sound already, there is one further element which makes Big Zuu's Big Eats virtually unwatchable. Everybody shouts. Big Zuu shouts. All the sodding time. He shouts at his 'boyz' - Tubsey and Hyder. Tubsey and Hyder shout back at him. He shouts at his guests (who do, sad to report, include a couple of people whom this blogger used to have a bit of respect for, like Jimmy Carr and Josh Widdicombe). They all shout back at Big Zuu. Everybody shouts, dear blog reader. Often. Until you just wish they would all shut the fek up and eat their - to repeat, usually quite good-looking - nosh. To be completely fair to Dave, Big Zuu and the rest of those taking part in this woeful exercise in celebrity-by-non-entity, the various trailers for this programme are a pretty accurate reflection of their content. Including all of the shouting. So, this blogger really can't say that he was taken unawares by any of this malarkey. Suffice to say that this blogger will, in future, be avoiding this loud, brash exercise in hideous self-aggrandisement as much as is humanly possible. For the sake of his eardrums as much as anything else. As a general rule of thumb with regard to shows on Dave, if they were originally made by the BBC - or, if they weren't but feature Dave Gorman or Jon Richardson - then, chances are, they'll be pretty good. If not, this blogger's advice is to avoid them like the plague.
3. Late Night Mash
'Like the Taliban, despite popular demand we are back.' At the risk of sounding like a stuck record (that's a Twentieth Century cultural reference for all the youngling dear blog readers out there), the Dave channel's 'surprisingly inadequate' original comedy productions really are an absolute laughter-free zone. The Mash Report was, of course, previously a BBC production, which was cancelled - in a splurge of publicity - early in 2021. The reasons for the cancellation have been debated at length elsewhere - it was a constant target for various parts of the right-wing media as an example of the BBC's alleged left-wing bias and there were suggestions that the BBC got cold feet over such an easy target with which to beat them with a stick. This blogger, frankly, doesn't buy that, the show's rating were tiny and it was, from the start, living on borrowed time because of its numbers rather than its content. Nevertheless, in November 2018, the then BBC political presenter Andrew Neil described The Mash Report on Twitter as 'self-satisfied, self-adulatory, unchallenged left-wing propaganda.' Neil, an odious, full-of-himself blustering right-wing oaf who is now, very satisfyingly, out of a job after the colossal failure of his much-trumpeted GB News venture - characterised the series as a 'pathetic imitation' of The Daily Show in the United States. And, the really annoying thing there was that the loathsome Neil actually had a point. Not the politically-motivated nonsense, Emily Baker of the i rather successfully challenged many of the allegations of imbalance made about The Mash Report, but certainly with regard to Mash's far-too-high opinion of itself. As the TV writer Gareth Roberts has noted this series is 'the worst kind of comedy - dull, self-satisfied conformity masquerading as daring and revolutionary; the humour of the clique and, sometimes, the mob. It reveals nothing new. It does not enlighten or surprise. It merely confirms and repeats.'
Late Night Mash's host, Nish Kumar, is a fine comedian but his comedy is, undeniably, supremely smug and self-important. It's not, necessarily, unfunny and in short bursts it works very well but it can, after a while, become bombastic and overwhelming. Then there's Ellie Taylor, a young woman whose comedy is offensively rude and crude. During an appearance on Qi, Taylor noted that her mother doesn't like it when she swears on television. Hopefully, Mrs Taylor will have therefore spent much of the last year - like the majority of viewers - avoiding her daughter's casual f-bombing at every given opportunity. Another regular, Rachel Parris, was the Daily Scum Mail's poster girl for lambastation on a regular basis (they took particular offence at her finest moment, the 'harassment roleplay' monologue). This blogger dislikes the Daily Scum Mail and all it stands for as much as he dislikes cancer but his opinion on the sneering and full-of-her-own-embiggened-importance Ms Parris hasn't changed since he publicly agreed with the opinion of 'British Big Balls Fifty Seven' back in 2019). In the trailer of Late Night Mash's Dave debut, which included several self-deprecating jokes about the show's new home ('Congrats on the move from the BBC to Dave. I recently got divorced and moved out of the family home into a bedsit. You get used to it'), Nish Kumar shouted 'you're stuck with us now, Dave!' You may believe that, Nish, but this blogger reckons that, in the notoriously fickle business of TV, bragging about your inability to get the chop a second time might be regarded as asking for trouble. Time - and viewing figures - will tell. They usually do. 
4. British As Folk
Look, Dave, really this is not personal, but if you keep making crap shows, this blogger is going to have to keep slapping them. Hard. Hey, what can this blogger say? It's his job. Which brings us to British As Folk. This sees Darren Harriott, Fern Brady and Ivo Graham (no, me neither) swanning around Britain in an Elgrand camper van. Why? For the purposes of merriment and japery. Or something. The 'hook', such as it is, concerns these three chancers uncovering 'the real Britain, the one we don't get to see' - although their first choices in Leicester were somewhat obvious ones: the car park where Richard III's remains were found, the National Space Centre and the market, where producers at least managed to avoid mentioning its usual claim to fame: that Gary Lineker occasionally worked there on his dad's stall. Harriott is (marginally) the funniest of the trio, although he has an annoying Big Zuu's Big Eats-style habit of shouting a lot. Graham is the posh one who regularly trips over his own feet, often gets the short end of the stick when it comes to taking part in sporty-type stuff and splutters a lot in faux embarrassment - the same schtick that the late, great Tim Brooke-Taylor was doing fifty years ago. Only much better. Brady is the whiny-voiced Scottish one who contributes occasional pithy one-liners but is, otherwise, simply there to look aghast at her male companions and whinge about their behaviour. Quite right too. Listen, British As Folk is mostly inoffensive and - despite its appalling unoriginality (shows which claim to be looking for 'the real Britain' have been ten-a-penny for decades) - it's probably got its heart in the right place. But, the lack of laughs is worrying; frankly, the whole thing lacks any sort of reason to exist. Which is bad news for a show that wants to uncover 'the real Britain.' Because, it looks like 'the real Britain' saw Darren, Ivo and Fern coming and ran a mile in the opposite direction to avoid them.
5. Breeders
More hateful, twee, offensive nonsense made by, for and about Middle Class hippy Communist Vegan quiche-eating Gruniad Morning Star readers with children living in some of the nicer suburbs of North London. And who find normal family life too much like hard work. As discussed - at length - in last year's From The North Worst Of list, it's genuinely hard to work out what the most offensive thing about Breeders is. How many bad career choices can Martin Freeman make before someone has a quiet word in his shell-like? What was Alun Armstrong thinking taking a role in this horseshit? Who commissioned Breeders and are they still in gainful employment? And, most importantly of all, who the Hell is watching this dreadful puddle of self-obsessed, sneering rubbish.
'The humour [is] too forced for all its attempts to show honesty and authenticity in parenting,'wroteThe Australian. The Daily Scum Mail was harsher: 'The anger directed at the children is hard to stomach and also you do think: you live in a fabulously stylish house. You have good jobs. It's you who needs to grow up.''As parents, we've all been there? But perhaps not quite so abusively as in this ... comedy from accomplished stylists who treat scriptwriting as a branch of swearing,'added the Standard. There is something thoroughly rotten at the core of Breeders; it's another example of a conceit in which everyone involved in it should be damned-well ashamed of themselves. There are times, dear blog reader, when this blogger can do nothing but look to his own personal acronym, WWFPFDD. What would Freddie Parrot-Face Davies do? And, I'm pretty sure, he would have given Breeders the widest of wide-berths.
6. Hitmen: Reloaded
Like Breeders, Hitmen makes a second successive appearance in From The North's annual naughty list. And, poor Mel Giedroyc makes her second appearance in this year's cascade of shame. One could almost feel sorry for her - almost - if Hitmen wasn't a heinous pustule of a comedy and about as much fun as a dose of the winter vomiting bug. Mel and Sue Perkins simply can't act. We've known this for some time, they're jolly good presenters and, stick 'em on Qi or Would I Lie To You? and they can handle their way around a pithy quip. But, in this, they're just ... rotten. 'If some of the best TV comedies of the past few years have focused on the drab ordinariness (and/or existential malaise) of outwardly badass vocations, here's a thoroughly low-key iteration of that trope,'notedThe Hollywood Reporter in a significantly-less-than-five-star review. 'More disappointing is the fact that despite the winkingly archetypal movie-assassin situations that Fran and Jamie seem to be deliberately written into ... there are few subversions, let alone commentary, on the genericness of those circumstances.' Even the presence of the terrific Katherine Parkinson couldn't raise the laugh quota during the second series and, let's face it, that takes some doing.
7. I Can See Your Voice
The BBC's attempt to find a Saturday evening singing contest to fill a slot they've never successfully got a handle on led them to commission this adaptation of a South Korean format, a sort of straight mash-up of The Voice and The Masked Singer. (There are several other versions of the format internationally, including one in China where it is, apparently, something of a phenomena. Presumably, all the old Maoists think it's great.) Then, the BBC got odious professional Northern berk Paddy McGuinness to host it and staffed the judging panel with reality TV regular Alison Hammond, talent show regular Amanda Holden and Jimmy Carr (Jimmy, mate, what were you thinking of? Is the tax situation really that bad?) It was, predictably, arse of the highest order, full of Second Division singers who last had a hit worthy of the name in a previous decade (Nadine Coyle, Alexandra Burke, Rockin' Ricky Wilson) or two (Heather Small, Louise Redknapp).
I Can See Your Voice's live ratings were properly appalling (averaging around two million) and even the consolidated seven day plus figures weren't all that much better (one episode did manage to break four million but none of the others got close) whilst what few reviews it had were dreadful ('a cynical singing show that's completely off-key,'according to the Gruniad). A second series has, reportedly, been confirmed. Which seems to prove an old adage - you can, it would seem, fool some of the people some of the time. This blogger resigned from the human race in protest, dear blog reader, but I don't think it did much good.
8. Dating No Filter
'Some of the UK's best comedians will watch on in delight as members of the public head out on blind dates across the country in a brand-new comedy dating show, Dating No Filter, coming to Sky One from 25 February,' screamed the pre-publicity for this horrifying variant on Blind Date. 'The factual entertainment series will see pairs of singletons sent on first dates, with intertwined quick-witted commentary from comedians such as Daisy May Cooper, Joel Dommett, Josh Widdicombe, Tom Allen, Suzi Ruffell, Susan Wokoma, Tom Lucy, Rosie Jones, Judi Love, Chunkz and Yung Filly. The comedy duos will watch and weigh in on the dates, giving hysterically unfiltered observations on every awkward interaction and heart-warming moment as they root for love to conquer all! The singletons will be treated to a range of activities to try to break the ice; from axe throwing and ballroom dancing, to pole dancing and a visit to a goat farm!' The show was commissioned by Zai Bennett, Managing Director of Content at Sky and the man who, when he was boss of BBC Three cancelled this blogger's beloved Ideal so, frankly, we should have expected such crass, lowest-common-denominator bollocks. Bennett's other great contribution to British TV history was, when he worked for ITV2, signing Kerry Katona to an exclusive deal. It really is a CV one's mother would be so proud of, is it not?
So, where to start with Dating No Filter? Firstly, singletons? Valerie must be turning in her grave ... and she's not even dead. Secondly, Josh Widdicombe. Why, Joss? Why, for the love of God, why? The rest of the 'comedy talent' involved, one can easily understand appearing on this raddish of a show but, come on, Josh, you're a talented man, you're better than this. Needless to say, Dating No Filter was truly woeful ('rude, crude and a bit pointless'opined the Torygraph). It was neither entertaining or funny, just sad on every imaginable level. There was no dignity present, just a bunch of self-important lice guffawing like hyenas whilst watching the antics of people without shame or self-consciousness in appearing on this horrorshow. A pox on it and everyone involved in it.
9. The Masked Singer
Last year, it only narrowly avoided the unwanted accolade of From The North's least favourite show of 2020 (indeed, but for the shameful omnipresence on British TV of Bloody Jack Bloody Whitehall that year, it would've walked to the title). This year it only just made it into the top ten - though, to be fair, it had much harder competition. From Dave, chiefly. Nevertheless, don't think for a moment that ITV's The Masked Singer wasn't up to the challenge and the second series gave it right good go and was every bit as lousy as the first. Indeed, whilst it didn't have the comedy value of Alan Johnson's remarkable turn in 2020's opening episode, Glenn Hoddle as a singing grandfather clock pushed it very close. Lenny Henry (last, briefly, funny around 1983), Mel B and Morten Harket were amongst those so desperate for another sniff of telly exposure that they'd even agree to appear covered head-to-foot in a, presumably jolly hot, costume. Judges Jonathan Ross and Davina McCall continued to shout their gobs off at every given opportunity and the contest was won by a heavily pregnant Joss Stone dressed as an over-sized novelty cone of sausage and chips. I'm not making this up, dear blog reader, it really happened. In fact, you probably saw it, as the show remained bafflingly popular (over ten million punters watched the final - though the country was still under lockdown at the time). It's still not this blogger's cup of tea, dear blog reader but, in a year in which I Can See Your Voice and Dating No Filterexisted, somehow The Masked Singer no longer seems to represent everything that is wrong with television - and, indeed, society - in 2021. And that fact, in and of itself, can be a source of no pleasure to anyone.
10. The Void
'Thank goodness we can go out on Saturday evenings again' sneered the Torygraph in reviewing the opening episode of this forgettable ITV game show. And, tragically, for once it's hard not to agree with That Awful Singh Woman. Which is not something this blogger enjoys doing but, when it comes to The Void, he will put up with the uncomfortable feelings it produces. Hosted by Ashley Banjo and Fleur East, The Void'challenges contestants to perform a variety of grueling mental and physical challenges, with the added twist of a fall into "The Void" if they fail - a five hundred thousand-litre basin of water lying on the arena floor below.' So, essentially, this is a bit like The Crystal Maze, a bit like Hole In The Wall, a bit like The Cube, a bit like Total Wipeout, a bit like Gladiators. A bit, in fact, like a whole load of previous formats which usually ended with someone getting a right good soaking if they couldn't complete a given task. Needless to say, it was risible - unoriginal - rubbish.
ITV In Hot Water As Viewers Blast The Void As 'Worst Thing' The Channel Has Produced declared the Liverpool Echo. That, incidentally, isn't even remotely true - if it was it would give The Void a notoriety it, in no way whatsoever, deserves. The Void Turns A Paddling Pool Into A Metaphor For Existential Dread added the Independent. The Void Viewers Confused As Show Is 'Rip Off Of Total Wipeout And Ninja Warrior UK' was the Daily Mirra's atypical 'don't use any words with more than two syllables' take on matters. ITV executives quickly pulled the plug after one series, according to the Daily Lies Sunday. 'The cancellation is a major setback for hosts Fleur East and Ashley Banjo, who had hoped for a big hit,' they claimed. Well, them's the breaks, kids. Back to the Job Centre on Monday, it would seem.
'After some discussions, bosses have decided not to commission another series,' an alleged ITV 'insider' allegedly told the newspaper (they're not alleged, tragically, the Daily Lies Sunday does, indeed, exist). The Lies added that The Void did not perform well in the ratings despite being given a 'prime Saturday night slot.' Within weeks, its viewership had plummeted, leaving executives 'unimpressed.' And, as we all know, dear blog reader, Hell hath no fury like an unimpressed ITV executive.
11. Celebrity Catchpoint
Another week, another Paddy McGuinness vehicle to stink up BBC prime-time. How does this man continue to be given licence-fee payers money to front more bland, characterless, unfunny vomit such as this? It's a question someone really should be made to answer. 'It follows in the great tradition of prime-time turkeys, programmes so bad you wonder how they ever made it through the commissioning process,'wrote the Express & Star reviewer in abject horror at what he was watching. McGuinness 'hosts the show with the biggest balls on telly,' the BBC declared in its pre-publicity. That's the BBC, dear blog reader. The organisation which is, in theory, supposed to - and usually does, despite what the Daily Scum Mail and the Daily Scum Express may claim to the contrary - inform, educate and entertain. One supposes that this hateful exercise in giving McGuinness more of our hard-earned money could, possibly, fall under the latter category. That's if one uses the word 'entertain'quite wrongly.
Made by ITV Studios, the standard, non-celebrity, version of Catchpoint is bad enough if no worse than dozens of other shows featuring McGuinness - although if this article is anything to go by, they seem to be having trouble finding people stupid enough to go on it. Hence, perhaps, a series of 'celebrity specials' broadcast in the autumn. Again, the word 'special' in this particular case is, clearly, some new use of that word which this blogger hadn't previously come across. The 'z-listers' involved included Matt Edmondson, Mollie King, Ranj Singh, Joel Dommett, Hannah Cooper Dommett, Rickie Haywood Williams, Chloe Madeley and Melvin Odoom. So, again, that's a complete bastardisation of the actual dictionary definition of what the word 'celebrity' means, is it not? (The Reverend Richard Coles, whom this blogger does, usually, have a lot of respect for, Olympic long-jumper Greg Rutherford and former England goalkeeper Calamity James did feature, all of whom might be described as 'celebrities' and it not sound quite as ridiculous as most of the other 'no, me neither' waste-of-spaces featuring in this fiasco.) Horrifyingly, Catchpoint seems to have done averagely enough in the ratings to obtain another series. And, as a consequence, keep McGuinness in undeserved employment. No justice.
12. Twatting About On Ice
A regular feature in From The North's 'Is That Crap Still Going?' collections for as long as this blog has been in operation. The really annoying thing, though, was that ITV actually cancelled Twatting About On Ice once (in 2014, to the joy of millions - well, to the joy of this blogger, anyway). And, then they brought the bugger back four years later specifically, it would appear, to vex Keith Telly Topping and get his mad right up. Even more annoyingly, it worked. Like some sort of virus, Twatting About On Ice appears to be unkillable. This blogger hopes ITV are jolly satisfied with themselves. They've, seemingly, created a supervirus. One that could, potentially, destroy all life on the planet. Haven't you people ever seen The Satan Bug? Contagion? The Masque Of The Red Death? What about Twenty Eight Days Later? If we all end up as rabid zombie-like flesh-eaters devouring our own families, ITV, it'll be on your head.
13. Game Of Talents
An American format imported to these shores by ITV, essentially to give Vernon Kay something to justify his continued existence, Game Of Talents saw contestants 'attempt to uncover the secret talents of the public.' In announcing the news to Radio Times, ITV's Head Of Entertainment Commissioning Kate Rawcliffe (so, it was her fault) described Kay as 'the perfect host' for the programme, while Amelia Brown, Managing Director of Thames added: 'Families at home will be on the edge of their seats as they play along with him.' Families at home, seemingly, begged to differ if the overnight ratings were anything to go by. ITV's Game Of Talents Branded 'Most Judgemental Show Ever' By Viewers After Just One Episode wrote the Chronicle, an article which included the following observation: 'Remarking on the fact both BBC1 and ITV aired wall-to-wall coverage of Prince Phillip's death on Friday, one [viewer] quipped: "After both main channels showing the same thing, it's good to have normal programming on - we have I Can See Your Voice on BBC1, where you have to guess if people can sing by their appearance and Game Of Talents on ITV, where you have to guess someone's talent by their appearance."' Ultimately, Game Of Talents fell between half-a-dozen different stools. It didn't work as a variety format like Britain's Got Toilets, because the 'talents' on display are never given enough time to demonstrate their brilliance, or ineptitude. It didn't work, either, as a guessing show, because the clues given were far too easy for the majority of viewers who hadn't recently had a lobotomy on the National Health. And, it didn't work as a gentle entertainment, because the stakes were high - someone's going to play for fifty thousand smackers and that's a lot of money to almost-but-not-quite win. Plus, you know, Vernon Kay. Just to add another spanner into the works. So, all-in-all this was a mess. 'As of 16 November 2021, Game Of Talents has not been cancelled or renewed for a second season,' a Google Search informs anyone interested enough to look. Which, a bit like Game Of Talents itself, is neither one thing nor the other. Oh, and the series was sponsored by McVitie's, apparently. Now, where's a good 'is Jaffa Cake a biscuit or a cake?' joke when you really need one?
14. The Wheel
Created and hosted by Michael McIntyre ... That's all you need to know, really. 'I'm used to viewers being cynical,' McIntyre told BBC News when announcing the show. Yeah, guilty as charged, sir. And since, as a licence fee payer, I'm effing-well funding your wretched show, this blogger reserves the right to be cynical and, indeed, disgusted by The Wheel. And, even more sickened by the fact that McIntyre has, apparently, sold his format to the US and is set to coin it in, big-style. BBC Viewers Label Michael McIntyre's The Wheel'A Fix' claimed some smear of no importance at the Daily Scum Express, citing a handful of comments on Twitter. This blogger, personally, couldn't give a stuff about such nonsense. On the other hand, he does think The Wheel is a steaming pile of compost. 'Neither challenging nor entertaining,'said the i. Which is one of the most accurate four-word reviews this blogger has ever encountered and one which he fully endorses.
15. Gordon, Gino & Fred Go Greek
It has been noted before that vanity projects are seldom much fun for those who aren't directly involved in having their egos stroked. Case in point, Gordon, Gino & Fred Go Greek in which Gordon Ramsay, Gino D'Acampo and Fred Sirieix swan around the Mediterranean like they own the σπίτι. Gordon, Gino & Fred Go Greek Fans Left Devastated By ITV announcementclaimed the Birmingham Live website concerning the revelation that the latest spin-off of Gordon, Gino & Fred: Road Trip would consist of but two episodes rather than the usual three or more. Wales Online carried a similar story claiming that viewers were 'left gutted'. These dubious allegations - seemingly based on a few glakes whinging on Twitter - suggest that a) Gordon, Gino & Fred Go Greek actually has fans and b) that two episodes of Gordon, Gino & Fred Go Greek isn't two episodes too many. Full of 'inane banter'according to the i's Girl Power. 'Dad rock and schoolboy humour set the tone as Gordon Ramsay, Gino D'Acampo and Fred Sirieix island-hopped their way across the Aegean Sea.' All of which makes the series sound - to this lover of both Dad Rock and schoolboy humour - far more interesting than it actually was. 'Viewers with an emotional age of twelve or older may, on the other hand, have despaired of a travel documentary that emphasised rib-poking over insight.' Ooo, get her. He's not wrong, however.
The Times didn't think much of it either - despairing about a surfeit of 'overbaked bluster' - whilst the Daily Scum Mail's resident faceache Christopher Stevens tried to get a Ban This Sick Filth!exclusive out of the Ramsey's casual, if hardly unforeseen, use of a particular four letter word. There Is An F-word For Ramsay's Greek Misadventure ... It's Flop! And thatDaily Scum Mail headline, dear blog reader, is funnier than anything in Gordon, Gino & Fred Go Greek. As Aristotle once said: 'Πολλά τα δεινά κουδέν ανθρώπου δεινότερον πέλει.' And, I think there's something in that for all of us to reflect upon.
16. Outsiders
More Dave bollocks from the network that brought you the top four in this year's From The North shower of diarrhoea. 'Here's an idea,' someone (probably) said deep within the heart of Dave HQ. 'Let's take David Mitchell, who's pretty popular with his sneering angry logic-type schtick and dump him in the woods with a handful of these comedy non-entities we've got to find gainful employment for but whom we can't place in Taskmaster, Hypothetical, Question Team or Comedians Giving Lectures this week.''To what end?' asked someone else in the room - probably the first bloke's boss. 'You know, the usual. Give them a bunch of stupid tasks to perform and watch them make a right arse of it.''But, isn't that pretty much exactly the format of Taskmaster?''Well, yeah, but since when has that stopped us from copycatting ourselves?''Genius! Here, have a pay rise.'Et cetera. So, for your self-loathing entertainment, here are the usual parade of Second Division planks - Toussaint Douglass, Jessica Knappett, Lou Sanders, Ed Gamble, Jamali Maddix and Kerry Godliman - pillocking about in the woods and, one presumes, getting - richly - paid for it.
In a Gruniad Morning Starreview in which Stuart Heritage, bafflingly, praised the equally wretched Taskmaster in relation to this horrible exercise, the following observation appeared: 'Asking a comedian to chop down a tree just means that we'll watch a comedian wrestle with an axe, the same way as a vet or an accountant would. If you like watching famous people hit bits of wood with an axe upward of one hundred times, Outsiders is the show for you. In Outsiders, [Dave] has created a show entertaining enough to replace Taskmaster, but not quite good enough for Channel Four to poach. Result.' And, if you look up the phrase 'damning with the faintest of all possible praise' on Google, you'll find that one pretty near to the top of the list.
17. Too Large
A US reality format - broadcast in the UK on TLC, the channel that once gave us If Katie Hopkins Ruled The World - about, bottom line, laughing at fat people and watching them struggle with their weight and self-esteem issues. How enlightened. How grown-up. How disgraceful. 'Morbidly obese individuals fight for their lives with the help of bariatric surgeon Doctor Procter,' lied the per-publicity blurb concerning the series contents and motivation. 'Family ties and friendships are put to the test and only some will make the changes necessary to earn the bariatric surgery and change their lives.'This, dear blog reader, is what for some constitutes 'entertainment' in the second decade of the Twenty First Century. Hateful and unpleasant on every imaginable level.
18. The Stand-Up Sketch Show
From ITV2. And, if that hasn't put you off this sour and rotten format then you should also know that The Stand-Up Sketch Show features, amongst others, Russell Kane (very popular with students). Whom this blogger considers to be about as funny of cancer of the scrotum. Though, to be fair, Kane is by no means the worst act on offer in this tripe. The stand-up sections were recorded at the Up The Creek comedy club in Greenwich, in front of a socially distanced - and, presumably, bored-titless - audience. 'The Stand-Up Sketch Show falls between two stools,' noted the only online review of the series that this blogger could find, at the 'Aving A Giraffewebsite. 'The viewer sees only a snippet from ... sets so has no time to establish a relationship to a new or, to them, unknown performer. In last night's episode we saw one joke extracted from each comedian's set and translated into a sketch with the on-stage performance as a voice-over. Russell Kane and Sean Walsh are well known to national TV audiences ... and the viewer knows what to expect.' Indeed they do. Comedy is, of course, entirely a personal thing - what is funny to one person may well be toxic and distressing to another. Jokes which makes this blogger wish to bathe in disinfectant post-episode will, no doubt, be thigh-slappingly hilarious to others. That's fine. Let's just say this blogger made it through four episodes of The Stand-Up Sketch Show and reckons he got all of three laughs out of the experience. That's an average of 0.75 laughs per episode. For this blogger, at least, that's not enough to sustain enough interest to make it to episode five. Though, it's still a better hit rate than Mel Gedroyc: Unforgiveable.
19. Take Off With Bradley & Holly
A game show presented by From The North favourite Bradley Walsh and From The North ... whatever the opposite of favourite is, Holly Willoughby and produced by Hungry Bear Media for the BBC. That's the BBC dear blog reader. Inform, educate and entertain, remember? On the show, members of the public compete to win seats on a plane to a dream holiday destination. The series was, of course, filmed before Covid and the related travel restrictions caused by the global pandemic. Which sort of rendered the entire process moribund (much like last year's 'Take Part In A Format To Be Little Mix's Support Act. Or, Maybe Not' fiasco). Take Off With Bradley & Holly Forces BBC To Make Announcement Over Social Distancing Concerns noted the Evening Chronicle. The Daily Scum Expressalleged that BBC Viewers 'Switch Off' As Take Off With Bradley & Holly Branded 'Worst TV Show Ever' which may be true although one rather doubts that the Daily Scum Express bothered to ask all viewers. This blogger watched it - and disliked it - but he certainly didn't get that particular memo and, trust me dear blog reader, there are many worse TV shows than Take Off With Bradley & Holly. Eighteen of them, this year alone. The Sun pushed a similar story of 'outraged'Twitter whingery whilst the Liverpool Echoclaimed that the series 'leaves viewers feeling strange.'That sounded chillingly accurate. OK! magazine also suggested that the show had been 'slammed' by viewers. 'Slammed', of course, being the same as 'criticised' only with less syllables for the hard-of-thinking. That must have been worrying to the production, when an organ of the media as singularly lowest-common-denominator as OK! can't find anything worthwhile to say about your show, you know you're in deep trouble. Bradley, mate, you're better than this crap. Willoughby mightn't be, but you are.
20. Apocalypse Wow
The worst thing you will ever see with your eyes,'according to the Gruniad, ITV2's Apocalypse Wow was a spectacularly z-list celebrity game show in which contestants try to win cash for charity by entering The Torture Dome - part BDSM club, part Fight Club. There, they must 'form the perfect team' and 'take on the terrifying superhuman bosses.' The Sun's Ally Ross, who normally arse-licks this sort of thing up, big-style, said it 'may just be the worst British TV show of all time.' Presented by AJ Odudu, it is a show that gets the z-list celebrities to partake in physical challenges against professional-physical-challenge-type-people called things like Enormo, Polecat and other names that suggest a development deadline even tighter than the series' miniscule budget. 'By the end of a long, long forty five minutes plus ad breaks, you will have seen Love Islander Chris Hughes slung out of a paddling pool full of lube by a stringy-haired strongman, stand-up comedian Darren Harriott biffed off a podium by a polystyrene wrecking ball swung by a man with a furry pedestal mat strapped to each shoulder (that's Enormo) and Gogglebox's Scarlett Moffatt fail to climb a greasy pole. Metaphor is everywhere,' the Gruniad stated, aghast at the horror of it all. 'Their endeavours are overseen by The Mistress (Donna Preston) who screams lines like "Friends! Lovers! Bastards! Are you ready for the show? Then let's chuffin' get on with it!" to try to create the febrile atmosphere someone, somewhere must have thought would be generated by this motley assortment of celebs, half-concepts and people in leather masks.' Proceedings are 'a dizzying mix of It's A (Non-Royal) Knockout, Gladiators and The Crystal Maze if the latter were bad, stupid and thrown together in the last hour of a Friday-afternoon meeting on a hot day in an unairconditioned office.'Apocalypse Wow tried about fifty things at once and failed at all of them. ITV - the network that once produced World In Action and The Avengers - may not give a flying stuff about quality, or integrity, or indeed their own viewers, but they surely must recognise that even by their own pitiful standards, Apocalypse Wow was shockingly bad and won't be mourned once its inevitable passing occurs.
21. Alan Davies: As Yet Unfunny
In the early 2000s, Alan Davies took to Twitter (he used to do that a lot and it once cost him a wallet full of bread after he was found to have defamed a former Tory MP) to describe listening to From The North favourite Mark Kermode's voice as being 'like having a cheese grater rubbed against my ears.' Which, coming from Alan Davies is a little like a kitchen implement describing another kitchen implement as being a darker shade of gray. Mark went to see a Davies stand-up show in 2017. When he spoke to Davies back-stage he said something along the lines of 'I'm sorry you don't like my voice,' Davies replied, 'meh.' And again, kettle, this pot has something to say to you. Alan Davies is still great in small doses on From The North favourite Qi, even after eighteen series (in fact, he's often brilliant when he reigns in the silliness and sticks to his trademark knowing sarkiness). But, his own format - again, on Dave who are having one Hell of year - is patchy at best and grossly self-indulgent at worst. In each episode Davies holds an unscripted roundtable discussion with four guests. Each segment begins untitled but a title is chosen at the conclusion. It also begins unfunny and, usually, stays that way. Occasionally, someone will manage to inject a bit of oomph into the proceedings - recent episodes involving Lee Mack, Bill Bailey and Joe Lycett slightly raised the bar above a laugh-free zone and provided a few moments of comedy pleasure. Others, however ... It really is a pity as, potentially, the central idea has comedy legs. It needs a far more consistent quality of guests, however. Still, credit where it's due, managing to produce something so uneven it has found a place in From The North's 2021 'Worst Of' list despite including National Treasure Bill Bailey in one episode is something of an achievement. Because, that shouldn't be possible.
22. Redknapp's Big Night Out
Harry Redknapp. Jamie Redknapp. Tom Davis. Merely six of the many reasons why you should give Redknapp's Big Night Out the sort of wide-berth that Jamie Redknapp used to give getting off the treatment table and actually playing a few games for Liverpool or Tottenham Hotspur. 'Football and entertainment superstar Jamie Redknapp,' begins Sky's publicity blurb, hilariously, 'is joined by his dad, footy legend and national treasure, Harry Redknapp, plus best friend, BAFTA-winning comedian Tom Davis, in this comedy entertainment show.' Stop rolling on the floor and kicking your legs in the air like one of the robots in the 'for Mash get S.M.A.S.H®™ adverts from the 1970s', dear blog reader, this is no laughing matter. Just for context, Davis did win a BAFTA in 2016 (not undeservedly, either) but Hapless Harry is no more a 'national treasure' than his son is or ever was a 'football and entertainment superstar.''They invite the biggest and best names in showbusiness and sport to join them for topical football talk, exciting games and celebrity chat. Expect ... Harry's unique and entertaining anecdotes.' In fact, you should have expected a woeful mélange of tripe, more tripe and extreme tripe with a side order of tripe. Because, that's what you got. Originally titled Redknapp's Weekend Warm-Up, the series was commissioned to begin in 2020, but was replaced by the tweaked Home Fixture format amidst the coronavirus lockdown. Tragically for everyone, lockdown eventually ended and we got this turkey foisted upon us. Who Is Jamie Redknapp & What Is He Famous For?asked the otakukart website earlier this year. Good question. Guests on this Hellish mash-up of Fantasy Football League, Tellytubbies and that episode of Parkinson featuring Meg Ryan, included such twenty four carat ... things as Danny Dyer, Paddy McGuinness, Mel B and James Corden. To paraphrase the late, much-missed Rik Mayall in The Young Ones, 'have you had enough ... or do you want some more?'
23. Pooch Perfect
'Britain's hairiest hounds get a makeover on the hunt for Britain's best dog groomer. Sixteen professionals compete to see who can transform them into the smartest pooches in the land.' Apparently. Pooch Perfect was a dog grooming reality competition created by Seven Studios UK and first broadcast in Australia, hosted by big, cuddly Rebel Wilson. The format was sold in 2020 to the BBC. That's the BBC. The UK series was hosted by Sheridan Smith (again, someone this blogger admires. Usually). It was cancelled after one series. Because it was shit and no one was watching it, basically. 'A TV reality contest that isn't just bad, it's obscene,'bemoaned the Gruniad Morning Star. 'Even for a country that loves dogs as much as the UK, a show where participants put diamante necklaces on poodles seems like a step too far.' The BBC - that's he BBC - lied to the Digital Spy website: 'Pooch Perfectbrought plenty of light relief to viewers during lockdown and whilst the show won't be returning for another series, we'd like to thank Sheridan, the judges, animal experts, groomers and pet owners ... for bringing such joy to our screens at a time when we needed it most.' The BBC also defended the show following concerns raised by the RSPCA's head of companion animals Doctor Samantha Gaines, who claimed that the show runs the risk of perpetuating 'the idea that dogs are ours to objectify.' Which, given that they're domestic pets, they kind of are, Sam. The BBC released a statement saying that the 'care and wellbeing of the dogs was of the utmost importance' to the programme makers, adding that there were always 'an RSPCA-approved animal welfare consultant, a grooming consultant and a vet' present on-set. In other words, 'no animals were harmed during the making of this show.' Neither, sadly, were any TV executives who commission fatuous piffle such as this.
24. The Cabins
ITV2 has, reportedly, ordered a second series of their second-most-popular dating show The Cabins for 2022. Based on an original Dutch format, (Lang Leve De Liefde), The Cabins saw 'a cast of singletons ditching the dating rule book and deleting their dating apps in an attempt to find true love.' Or, at least, cop themselves a good hard shag or two live on telly. To say that The Cabins makes Love Island look like I, Claudius might sounds like hyperbole but, actually, it has more than a degree of truth to it. The top review of the series on IMDB is frothing in its incandescent fury: 'More of the same rubbish we have seen before. I have no idea who still watches these kind of shows. Just Love Island in another setting because of lockdown. And, like the other review says, people whoring themselves out on TV for two minutes of fame. So pretty much a nothing show with nothing people doing nothing; you've been warned. Watch if you want to kill brain cells.' Quite an articulate rant, young man. It is, though, shanetoddfortythree's header, 'Just Why?', which makes it art.
25. Gordon Ramsey's Bank Balance
Gordon Ramsey's bank balance, like Gordon Ramsey's ego (and, indeed, Gordon Ramsey's propensity for swearing) is massive. And, it was significantly increased by the commissioning of this game show by the BBC - that's the BBC. It was described as a 'high-stakes, high-pressure, game show where contestants test their poise, precision, knowledge and nerve to succeed to build themselves a fortune, or see it come crashing down in an instant.' The ratings were, from the off, dreadful. And the reviews weren't much better. In August it was announced that Bank Balance had been axed by the BBC - though, sadly, not with an actual axe, because that would've been worth watching. A spokeswoman for Ramsay told the Daily Mirra that there were 'plans to launch the show Stateside.' Presumably as a pay-back for all of the crap the Americans have dumped on Britain over the years - you know, chewing gum, the hoola hoop, herpes, Little Jimmy Osmond, The Dukes Of Hazzard, Trick Or Treating at Hallow'een, The War On Terror in search on non-existent weapons of mass destruction ... It's a fair swap, this blogger reckons.
26. Viewpoint
If ever the impact of a TV series was destroyed by circumstances way beyond its control, it was this five-part ITV thriller from Rillington Place, Waking The Dead and Manhunt writer Ed Whitmore and Fleabag director Harry Bradbeer which was broadcast in April. Or, more accurately, most of it was. The final episode, however, was hastily pulled from the schedules and made available as streaming-only following a series of sexual harassment complaints made about its star, Noel Clarke. Viewpoint was the story of a police surveillance investigation in Manchester following the disappearance of a primary school teacher in the vein of movies like Stakeout and The Lives Of Others. Subject to - mostly - quite positive reviews and decent overnight ratings, Viewpoint's world came crashing down around its ears as the copies of Gruniad Morning Star hit doorsteps across the country on that cold Friday morning. Prior to the broadcast of the previous day's fourth episode, the Gruniad had already reported that Clarke was the subject of allegations of sexual harassment and intimidation by twenty women. Allegations which he, of course, denied. Ironically, at that very moment, the Gruniad's TV critic was giving the series a very positive review, stating 'Noel Clarke excels in [this] Rear Window-inspired thriller.' Bet she got a right-good hiding with the Gruniad slipper across the editor's desk for that. The finale of Viewpoint was, as a consequence, pulled from its intended broadcast and replaced by an episode of It'll Be Alright On The Night. Oh, the irony (not to mention, the ignominy). International distribution of Viewpoint was also suspended. Clarke's career, meanwhile, remains in limbo not least because of - as yet, unproven - allegations made about his conduct on the Doctor Who set a decade ago by an actress who claimed that Clarke 'made advances on me' and asked her, regularly, if she 'wanted a piece of his dark chocolate.' One presumes he wasn't referring to a bar of Bournville®™. If, of course, that particular allegation was true. Which, it is important to note, Clarke denied that it was. The BBC stated that they were shocked - and stunned - by these allegations.
Meanwhile, Sky and production company Vertigo Films have said they will no longer make further series of another Clarke vehicle, Bulletproof, BAFTA have also suspended Clarke's membership, mere weeks after giving him an Outstanding Contribution award and the Metropolitan Police said they have 'received allegations' of sexual offences from a third party. As for Viewpoint, everyone involved in it, seemingly, just wants to forget that it ever happened.
27. Bloods
Is there anyone in the world who finds That Awful Horrocks Woman with her squeaky voice and her extravagantly superficial comedy stylings a) remotely funny and/or b) anything other than ruddy annoying? Just this blogger then? Figures ...
28. Alter Ego
'Legitimately Nightmarish': Is Alter Ego The Worst TV Show Of 2021?asked the Gruniad. No, actually, it was approximately the twenty eighth worst, but this blogger is quite happy to put it here and let dear blog readers decide if he's got that one wrong. 'More than perhaps any other television format, the singing competition has found itself in a state of accelerated progress,' they added. 'In quick succession, American Idol's basic "We'll tell you if you're a good singer" premise gave way to The Voice's "We'll tell you if you're a good singer without looking at you," which in turn became The Masked Singer's "We don't care if you're a good singer or not, because you're a minor celebrity dressed up like a sentient banana." Evidently, however, progress isn't always a good thing. Now the singing competition has landed upon Alter Ego; a show so catastrophic, so legitimately nightmarish in both concept and execution, that it deserves to be drowned in concrete and hidden at the bottom of the Mariana Trench. I guarantee that people will be talking about Alter Ego for decades to come. This is because the enduring global mystery of the next fifty years deserves to be "How the Hell did this charred wreckage of a series ever get made?"'Weird - But Not Weird Enoughadded The Atlantic. 'How could a singing competition show that features holographic contestants be this dull?'Varietysuggested that the show 'falls flat.' Subject to some of the worst reviews any TV show has ever received, Alter Ego holds some kind of achievement in managing to unite all of the world's TV critics, together in perfect harmony. Just like ebony and ivory. Oh, Lord.
29. Cooking With Paris
In which Paris Hilton proved that a spell in prison taught her nothing as she joined 'the celebrity home cooking reality crowd with her own series' with guest appearances from a collection of some of the most unappealing people who've even walked across a TV screen with their nose in the air like they've just smelled shit nearby - Nikki Glaser, Kim Kardashian West, Demi Lovato, Lele Pons, Saweetie, plus Paris's mother Kathy and sister Nicky. Horrorshow, right? Oh, you don't know the half of it, dear blog reader. The series 'received negative reviews from critics' according to, you know, everyone. Jordan Julian of The Daily Beast website stated that the show is 'an over-produced miss ... [Hilton] seems to be trying to channel her clueless, perpetually bored Simple Life persona, but now we know that was just a character, it feels forced.' Writing for Variety, Daniel D'Addario said: 'Cooking With Paris is a disaster - an utterly unappealing sit that many viewers will tune out before the first episode has ended.' The Gruniadconsidered that: 'It all gets odder as it goes on. It's not (just) that Hilton has only four phrases at her disposal ('So good', 'So bomb', 'In-sane', 'So cute'), but that she is such a deadening presence.''It's lazy Netflix rubbish, this; throw a cheque at a celeb and bung it on the homepage,'addedThe Times. 'Hilton is forty now. I wonder if today's teenagers actually know who she is.' It added that the show was 'like Banquo's ghost at the reality TV party.''If you're looking for a mindless hate-watch, this show might be just what you're seeking,'wroteArts ATL. 'Especially when Hilton says things like, "Cereal is my favorite food group," or "What's a tong?"' Thing is, dear blog reader, this blogger did seriously consider leaving this programme out of From The North's 'Worst Of' 2021 list because, well, frankly Paris Hilton seemed too easy a target for ridicule. And then, he thought 'nah, to Hell with that, she made it, she can eat it.' In life, dear blog reader, you reap what you sow. The 'joke' with this series - and I think that's what both Hilton and the producers were aiming for - is that Hilton is neither very good at cooking nor interested in getting any better. Predictably, as a consequence, Cooking With Paris's premise gets very old very quickly.
30. The Political Correction
Nigel Farage and Dehenna Davison on the - laughably wretched - GB News channel. Hateful, in every regard. At least, on the strength of the fifteen minutes of one episode this blogger suffered through before turning over to a repeat of Homes Under The Hammer (the things this blogger does so you don't have to, dear blog reader). If he'd watched twenty minutes, it might've made number one.
31. That Vinted®™ Advert.
... featuring the most slappable hipster couple in Christendom - him with his nasty beard and her with her simpering squeaky voice - wittering on about all the crap old clothes they've sold to, presumably, other slappable hipster Vegan quiche-eating Gruniad Morning Star readers. This blogger hated it, dear blog reader. Hated it, hated it, hated it - every single one of the nine hundred and forty three million six hundred and eighty seven times it was broadcast during 2021[*].
[*] A probable approximation, just for the sake of accuracy.

From The North's Curiosities Of The Year -

1. Hollington Drive
An curiously uninvolving ITV drama which began in late September, created and written by Sophie Petzal, the series followed two sisters - Anna Maxwell Martin and From The North favourite Rachael Stirling - and their families as they grapple with the potential crimes of their children. Anna Maxwell Martin Radiates With Rage In Suburban Hell was the Gruniad's headline, the review reflecting: 'This thriller about the nightmarish disappearance of a child in suburbia gets off to a suitably gripping start - and Maxwell Martin is a perfect glum mum.' The series 'serves up the full English of Middle-Class parent terrors,'added the Independent and, let's face it, few media organs are better placed to reflect upon Middle-Class terrors of any description than the Indi. '[There is] nothing middle-of-the-road about this suburban thriller,'claimed the Torygraph, quite wrongly. 'It's the kind of domestic thriller that ITV churns out by the dozen, but casting Maxwell Martin is a smart move because she's such a good actress that she elevates the material. Had this role gone to Joanne Froggatt or Katherine Kelly or any of ITV's go-to leading ladies, perhaps it would have felt more workaday. But here you sit up and think: this'll be worth watching.' A fair assessment, although the ending was more than a shade over-complicated and credulity-stretching, requiring the Digital Spy website to try and explain it (and, only partially, succeed). Viewers were left 'seriously divided' over the ending, claimed Hello magazine in an article based on a handful of Twitter postings which was, as with all such 'this is what the people are saying' type conceits, only about as trustworthy as a banker claiming poverty. The same magazine then got all stroppy and righteously indignant in a piece entitled Hollington Drive Star Defends Drama Storyline With Candid Comment, taking a - not-even-remotely-candid - interview Maxwell Martin had made, pre-the series even being broadcast, completely out of context and then finding two or three more Twitter keyboard warriors to quote. Hollington Drive Fans Label Show 'Biggest Waste Of Time' After Crash Scene Blunder claimed the Tyla website (no, me neither). Because, 'how many plot holes did they want in one show? Oh my God, that was the biggest waste of time'was, it appears, the view of one Leah on Twitter, whilst seemingly getting herself all hot and discombobulated. It's always so impressive - and strangely comforting - when a TV drama manages to divide the nation is it not, dear blog reader?
2. Oprah With Meghan & Harry
So, to sum up - a pair of, apparently, self-entitled multi-millionaires used their celebrity status to be afforded the opportunity to whinge, loudly, to another self-entitled multi-millionaire about the treatment they had, allegedly, received from an entire family full of self-entitled multi-millionaires. And we're supposed to be, what? Shocked? Stunned? Surprised? Angered? Or, more realistically, wholly uninterested in the entire bloody lot of them. All rights and wrongs concerning the allegations contained within this televised interview aside (this blogger has no intention of getting into that fetid swamp of claim and counterclaim; Boris Johnson declined to comment when asked if he believed the Royal Family was, collectively, racist saying: 'When it comes to matters to do with the Royal Family, the right thing for Prime Ministers to say is nothing' and if avoiding the question like a coward is good enough for the PM, it's good enough for this blogger), the thing which astonishes most about this fiasco is the fascination with which this programme was received in America. Sorry, remind me, weren't you the country that fought a revolution to get rid of the monarchy in the first place? If you want them back, guys, all you have to do is ask. Then you can pay for them and their indulgent lifestyles with your taxes just like we've been doing all of our lives. Sounds like a plan. Not that Oprah With Meghan & Harry was entirely without merit. For a kick-off, his reaction to it got Piers Morgan's odious ass slung out of ITV and into the gutter along with all the other sewage. That, alone, probably helped to justify its existence.
And, that's yer whack for another year, dear blog reader. It's been emotional. Remember, if the thirty one horrorshows in the 'Worst Of' selection have made you despair of ever switching on your tellybox again, there is plenty of good stuff out there. If, as noted above, you look hard enough for it. And, on that bombshell ...

Needless to say, dear blog reader, yer actual Keith Telly Topping thought last Sunday's Doctor Who episode, Village Of The Angels was proper excellent. So, that's four good'uns in a row, this is becoming habit-forming Mister Chibnall. It was particularly nice to see the always watchable Kevin McNally back on a series he last graced with his presence in 1984. Well, that's if anyone in The Twin Dilemma could, honestly, be said to have graced anything with anything.
What else has this blogger been watching on the Stately Telly Topping Manor Former Plague House widescreen tellybox, you're probably wondering? And, if you aren't, fear not dear blog reader as Keith Telly Topping is going to tell you anyway. He's like that. You may have noticed. 
There has been considerable irk and not a small amount of righteous, incandescent fury at the situation vis-a-vizStar Trek: Discovery and its home in the UK. You may have heard that the From The North favourite's British fans have been 'left livid' after the global release of the new - fourth - series of Discovery was pulled mere days before its planned launch. And, there's nowt so much a sight to see as righteously furious Star Trek fans. It had been due to be shown outside North America on Netflix from last Friday. However, Netflix then lost the global rights to Paramount, which will now put the show on its own streaming service. Viewers outside the US and Canada, however, must wait until Paramount Plus launches in twenty countries (including the UK) sometime next year. The exception to this, of course, are those handful of UK viewers who have very kind beast fiends in the US who send them over episodes in the post or, those of us like this blogger who get sent preview copies for review purposes. This blogger is in such a fortunate position and is extremely grateful to all concerned for this. And he was, therefore, able to watch the series' opening episode - Kobayashi Maru - earlier this week. Needless to say, he thought it was great.
This blogger also recently caught up with the third series of another From The North favourite, Doom Patrol which this blogger binge-watched all ten episodes over a two-day period. He thought that was great too; it was especially nice to see the series round up the majority of the comic's most important characters which it hadn't already introduced - The Brotherhood/Sisterhood Of Dada, Garguax The Decimator, The Dead Boy Detectives (and Crystal Palace) and, most brilliantly, Brain and Monsieur Mallah. Plus, a fabulously bat-shit crazy Madame Rouge played by Michelle Gomez going so far over the top she's down the other side. This blogger was delighted to learn that the series has recently been commissioned for a fourth series to be broadcast next year.
Speaking of comics which this blogger adored being turned into TV series, on 25 September Netflix released a first look teaser trailer of the highly anticipated adaptation of The Sandman on YouTube. Ooo. Sexy. Tom Sturridge as Morpheus, Gwendoline Christie as Lucifer Morningstar, Boyd Holbrook as The Corinthian, Charles Dance as Roderick Burgess, Asim Chaudhry as Abel and Sanjeev Bhaskar as Cain, Jenna Coleman as Johanna Constantine, Joely Richardson as Ethel Cripps, David Thewlis as Doctor Destiny, Stephen Fry as Fiddler's Green, Patton Oswalt as the voice of Matthew the Raven. This is gonna be large. Probably. 
Wor Geet Canny Sir Ridley Scott has confirmed he is turning two of his most famous SF movies, Blade Runner and Alien, into live-action TV series. Speaking on Monday ahead of the release of his new film House Of Gucci - the trailer of which this blogger saw on both of his recent visits to the cinema to watch No Time To Die and Last Night In Soho - Sir Ridley told Radio 4's Today programme he had already 'written the pilot for Blade Runner' as well as 'the bible' for a ten-episode series. The original Blade Runner movie, set in a dystopian future Los Angeles in 2019, was released in 1982, starring Harrison Ford. You knew that, right? Its sequel, Blade Runner 2049, was released in 2017, starring Ryan Gosling alongside Ford. An anime series called Blade Runner: Black Lotus premiered earlier this month on the Adult Swim channel. Sir Ridley said: 'We're already presenting Blade Runner as a TV show, which will probably be the first ten hours. And then Alien is a similar thing. Alien is now being written for pilot.' The 1979 Alien film starred Sigourney Weaver and was followed by three sequels - one of them utterly brilliant, the others ... not so much - as well as prequels and crossover Alien Versus Predator movies. Last year, FX channel boss John Landgraf described the new project as 'the first Alien story set on Earth.' He said: 'By blending both the timeless horror of the first Alien film with the non-stop action of the second [Aliens], it's going to be a scary thrill ride that will blow people back in their seats.'
Th highlight of this week's episode of From The North favourite Only Connect was Keith Telly Topping's usual 'getting the answer to one question before either of the teams' thing. Which also coincided with The Goddess That Is Victoria Coren Mitchell scoffing a Mars Bar®™ live to give the teams a clue. Movies and chocolate, two of this blogger's favourite things combined in one question. Three if you count The Divine Victoria herself, obviously. 
To more serious matters. Police in Kenya have launched an investigation after a BBC staff member was found dead in Nairobi. Kate Mitchell who worked for BBC Media Action in a number of African countries, died on Friday. BBC Media Action is the corporation's international charity and its projects focus on using media and communication to address inequality around the world. It is not thought Mitchell's death at a hotel in the city was connected to her work for the organisation. And, while the exact circumstances of her death remain unclear, police told local media they were investigating it 'as a murder' and 'exploring' possible motives. 'The suspected culprit ... jumped off the eighth floor of the hotel through the room's window after sensing that the hotel security might be after him,' Nairobi regional police commander Augustine Nthumbi told reporters. Mitchell, who grew up in Whitley Bay, most recently worked for BBC Media Action's office in the Ethiopian capital, Addis Ababa. 'We are all shocked and horrified by this terrible news,' Media Action CEO Caroline Nursey said in a statement. 'Kate was a much-loved member of staff, who worked as a Senior Project Manager and had been with us for fourteen years. She was well known across our whole organisation, especially by our teams in Ethiopia, South Sudan, Zambia, and London. We send our deepest condolences to her family and her many friends around the world,' she added. Her brother, Peter, said: 'Kate was a deeply beloved daughter, sister and friend and we are only beginning to realise the magnitude of her loss. The circumstances surrounding her death are still being investigated and we would ask you to ignore speculation in parts of the press and on social media. We ask everyone to respect our family's privacy as we grieve Kate's loss.'

Women have, reportedly, been banned from appearing in television dramas in Afghanistan under new rules imposed by the Taliban government. Who are, obviously, not mad as Mad Jack McMad and, in no way, all have very small penises and compensate for that shortage in the Maleness department with a policy of crass and disgusting misogyny. Oh no, very hot water. Female journalists and presenters have also been ordered to wear headscarves on screen, although the guidelines do not say which type of covering to use. Reporters say some of the rules are 'vague' and 'subject to interpretation.' The Taliban seized power in Afghanistan in mid-August and many fear they are gradually imposing harsh restrictions. The militant Islamist group, which took control following the departure of US and allied forces, almost immediately instructed girls and young women to stay home from school. During their previous rule in the 1990s, women were barred from education and the workplace.
Next, dear blog reader, a public service announcement for all From The North's many dear blog readers who share this blogger's love of The Be-Atles (a popular beat combo of the 1960s, you might've heard of them). Keith Telly Topping is now in his late fifties (you might've noticed that too) and has known The Be-Atles music for most of his life, ever since being bought the 'Yellow Submarine' single for his third birthday in October 1966. This blogger genuinely can't remember when he heard most Be-Atles songs for the first time; some would've been contemporaneously, others were later, in the early-to-mid-seventies via compilation LPs like The Blue Album and Love Songs and finally, around 1976 when the coolest teacher at our school - Mick Lovell - did this blogger a few cassettes to fill in all the gaps. Remember, kids, Home Taping Is Killing Music. Allegedly. Anyway, it remains - even all these years later - a real thrill to see someone else experience this glorious music for the first time. For the last few months a young Australian writer/musician call Caroline has been listening to The Be-Atles LPs in chronological order and posting her reactions to them on her YouTube channel which you can find here. Currently, she's got as far as Revolver (she's on a three-week schedule so Sgt Pepper's should be coming up shortly). As a musician herself, it's fascinating to see Caroline arriving at, for example, A Hard Day's Night or Beatles For Sale or Rubber Soul completely fresh and unspoiled, without any preconceptions or perceived wisdom built up over decades of conditioning and fan dogma about what's good and what isn't. (The sole exception to that was 'Run For You Life' which she was warned, in advance, might not be to her tastes lyrically from a Twenty First Century standpoint. Hard to argue with that, really!) If you find yourself with a couple of hours to spare one rainy Sunday afternoon, dear blog reader, I urge you to check out Caroline's reaction videos in order - they're usually about as long as the LPs themselves although they're getting longer, Revolver clocking in around forty five minutes. It's refreshing to hear someone else's take on music that you know as well as your own heartbeat and, shockingly (and stunningly), you might find yourself hearing something through someone else's ears which will surprise you.
And finally, dear blog reader, after this blogger's rather needy and - with hindsight, a bit pathetic - plea when posting the recent Keith Telly Topping Presents ... The From The North TV Awards (2021) bloggerisationism update for publicity, well, it worked. The comedy and broadcasting legend that is yer actual Alfie Joey (close personal fiend of this blogger dontcha know) certainly fell for it. Bless yer cotton socks, Alf, you're a giant amongst men.

'I can feel it all. I can feel the universe breaking.'
Unsurprisingly, dear blog reader, this blogger thought Flux was bloody great. Mostly. There were a couple of stray dangling plot threads which slightly flummoxed Keith Telly Topping and kept him awake, tossing, on Sunday night (which will be dealt with later in this bloggerisationism update you'll be happy to know). But, overall, that was a proper old-fashioned Doctor Who six-parter. And one which didn't feature, as many Mister Pertwee and Big Mad Tom six-parters did, three-and-a-half episodes of escape-capture-escape-run-up-and-down-a-few-corridors-capture-escape malarkey. Neither, to be fair, did it include any Venusian aikido, jelly babies or a tin dog. So, you know, you win some, you lose some. ...
Flux, then? Well, firstly the cast was - pretty much uniformly - marvellous. I mean, anything on TV featuring a bunch of From The North favourites like Barbara Flynn, Craig Parkinson, Kevin McNally and Jemma Redgrave is, seemingly, doing most things right.
Plus, obviously Jodie, Mandip and large-toothed Cheeky-Chappie Scouse funster The Bish his very self (with his lethal wok) giving it the works across all six episodes. A story with this sort of oft-shifting focus and a series of scripts which dealt with a lot of complexity needed complete sincerity in the performances for the episodes to work and Flux certainly achieved that, if nothing else.
Indeed it achieved far more. In his, as usual excellent, review of the finale, The Vanquishers, in the Gruniad Morning Star, Martin Belam made a couple of observations which dovetail nicely with this blogger's own views on certain aspects of Flux's construction and conclusion. Other reviews are available although some of them missed the point entirely. Like this one, for instance. Den Of Geek, on the other hand, seemingly rather liked it. Although, they too had questions they wanted answering.
Firstly Balem's overview: '"What an awfully big adventure," said Kevin McNally's Professor Jericho as he faced certain death at the hands of either a Sontaran or the Flux, or possibly both simultaneously. And in fairness to executive producers Chris Chibnall and Matt Strevens, in pre-publicity they promised that Doctor Who: Flux was going to be an awfully big adventure. It was.' Spot on, that man.
Secondly, a fine summation of one of this blogger's favourite bits of the finale: 'One of the most powerful scenes was about the life on board the TARDIS we presumably won't ever see, as imprisoned together on the Sontaran ship, it slowly dawned on The Doctor that Karvanista used to be her companion and that she had broken his heart. They must have gone through many scenarios just like that which she can't remember. There's a spin-off waiting for Jo Martin (The Fugitive Doctor) and Craige Els' adorably grumpy space-dog character as her companion out there somewhere.' Once again, it would appear, he knows about that which he speak, this kid.
Unlike Martin who seemingly felt the series' ending may have had an aspect of The Unearned to it ('the climax of the Big Bad arc was essentially that an even Bigger Bad rocked up, said they were displeased with failure and bumped off Swarm and Azure with very little fanfare') this blogger didn't have any problems whatsoever with the, quite literal, deus ex machina appearance of Time. Killing The Doctor's enemies for no adequately-explained reason whilst she saved her friends (old and new) and what was left of the universe. Or, indeed, with The Doctor then putting aside her quest for her hidden memories and mysterious past lives ... or has she? Time will tell. It usually does.
Balem concluded his piece thus: 'Whether this episode is a storytelling success depends on what comes next. If the following three specials pick up the loose threads as we head towards this Doctor's regeneration, it may have worked as a springboard for those stories. If they don't and the end of the divisive Timeless Child arc is "The Doctor hides a fob watch inside the TARDIS and we never mention it again," that is rather more "OK, so what was the point of all that?"' I think that's a) damning a story which had vast ambition to it with somewhat faint praise and b) expecting disappointment where, up till now, none exists. The point of The Doctor's entire timeline from 1963 to date is one of constant - and often logic-defying - change. He was, once, an aged (probable) human from a civilisation in the far-future with a Time Machine that he invited but couldn't work properly (and, which his granddaughter named). Or, he stole it and ran away from his people. Or, he's an alien from a race which observes rather than interferes with time and takes a dim view of those that do want to go off exploring. Or, he works for a sinister group within that race which want him to interfere. He can only have one life (although he can 'rejuvenate' himself). Or, he can have thirteen lives. Or, twenty six. Or, maybe, everything we always thought we knew was wrong and he/she had been around since the dawn of time. Or, whatever Big Rusty decides will be the next complete change of direction in 2023. 'Change, my dear. And, it seems not a moment too soon.'
Ultimately, Flux was a critical nexus of post-2005 Doctor Who in all its many facets; Sontarans, Cybermen, Daleks, Ood, Weeping Angels, UNIT, pseudo-historical and defiantly postmodernist futuristic adventure knitted together with many threads that, occasionally, threatened to become unravelled but held together to the end. It had some faux-naïf aspects to it (Bel and Vinder's story, for instance, was great up until the last episode when it was all wrapped up a bit too neatly in a couple of scenes) but it was elevated by its own certainty of purpose, creativity and generosity of spirit. Some people won't like it, of course (no shit? You think Keith Telly Topping?) and will almost certainly say so, loudly, to anyone that will listen (and, indeed, anyone that won't) on the Interweb. But, they're wrong. To repeat something this blogger wrote in the recent From The North2021 TV Awards bloggerisationisms update, 'Wheel turns, civilisations rise ... but Doctor Who just keeps on going.'
Okay, to those couple of naughty dangly plot-threads, dear blog reader. Firstly, Claire Brown (the terrific Annabel Scholey). Did this blogger miss something important during the six episodes with regard to Claire's timeline or did it not make any sense? In the opening episode, she meets The Doctor and Yaz - from their point of view for the first time - yet she knows them ('Have we met?', 'Not yet ... in the past'). Then, she walks into an encounter with a Weeping Angel and ends up back in the 1960s with a well-cool haircut, miniskirt and purple tights. Groovy. There, she runs into The Doctor again (in 1967) whilst doing psychic experiments with Professor Jericho. She subsequently watches the Professor, Yaz, Dan and Little Peggy (hang on, we'll be coming to her in a minute) get trapped in the early 1900s by the Angels scheming shenanigans. Left - presumably alone - in the Village Of The Angels, sometime later in 1967 she reunites with the Professor and The Doctor and joins them in Joseph Williamson's multi-dimensional time-tunnels, does considerable mental damage to the Sontarans saucy plans of universal domination before using a time-ring to escape. At which point The Doctor indicates that she will drop Claire 'back to 2021.' Where, presumably, she will then meet The Doctor and Yaz again at Hallow'een near Anfield and the hole in the street where Dan's house used to be, have her run-in with The Weeping Angel and end up back in 1965 all over again.
In short, dear blog reader, isn't Claire (one of the best new Doctor Who characters in a decade or more and a potential companion of considerable promise) now simply stuck in a Chronic Hysteresis-style time-loop shuffling endlessly between 2021 and the Mid-Sixties? Or, did this blogger miss a line of dialogue somewhere which suggested a way that the loop would be broken by the events of the final episode?
And then there's Peggy (Poppy Polivnicki). Thrown back from 1967 to 1901 along with the Professor, Dan and Yaz she simply disappears at the end of Village Of The Angels and, again unless this blogger missed a line somewhere in episodes five or six, is never heard of again. We know, from Mrs Hayward (Peggy's own aged self in the 1960s) that she will not be getting back to her own period for 'a very long time' and there's nothing in the story to suggest that she was part of The Doctor's 'I'll drop you here and you there and you there' TARDIS taxi service at the end of the series. But Peggy was, what, maybe ten or eleven years old in 1967? Stuck back in the 1900s one presumes that whilst the Professor, Dan and Yaz were wandering the world for three years trying to gain clues to get them back to The Doctor, Peggy was in England being looked after by ... someone? Who? In Survivors Of The Flux, we reach 1904 before the trio were able to access Williamson's labyrinth. Claire later shows up again but Peggy is, seemingly, forgotten about. So, have they all just pissed off and left a fourteen year old stuck half-a-century out-of-time without so much as a by-your-leave? It would certainly appear so. Again, unless this blogger missed a bit of exposition somewhere. All of which would be jolly irresponsible surrogate parenting if you ask me, dear blog reader.
So, that's about the size of it. A couple of knotty issues related to time notwithstanding (this isDoctor Who dear blog reader, it's always about time), it all worked out fine in the end. Mostly. The Doctor met her adoptive mum (who turned out to be One Bad Mother), stopped The Big Snake, defeated The Sinister Siblings (well, she had a bit of help there, admittedly), let The Sontarans, Cybermen and Daleks have an 'uge, fek-off, punch-up whilst standing back with a smile on her face (always good for a laugh), gave The Division a well-deserved relegation from the Premiership to the Isthmian League, gave Dan something to do after he got bombed out on a second date with Diana and, last but by no means least, saved the universe. Again. Not bad for six week's work, frankly.
Next, dear blog reader, we all get to wait a few weeks until New Year's Day and a meeting with more sodding Daleks, seemingly. It would appear that, for all The Doctor's many abilities, she just can't get rid of those guys.

One of this blogger's favourite musician/songwriter/actor/video director/multi-millionaires, Michael Nesmith, has died aged seventy eight. He rose to fame initially as a member of The Monkees (the TV series and the band), but went on to have a long and influential career in music, television and movie production. Mike died from heart failure on Friday at his home in Carmel Valley. 'With Infinite Love we announce that Michael Nesmith has passed away this morning in his home, surrounded by family, peacefully and of natural causes,' his family wrote in a statement posted on Nesmith's website. 'We ask that you respect our privacy at this time and we thank you for the love and light that all of you have shown him and us.'
Along with his surviving bandmate, Micky Dolenz, Nesmith recently completed a Monkees' farewell tour. 'I'm heartbroken,' Dolenz said, in a statement. 'I've lost a dear friend and partner. I'm so grateful that we could spend the last couple of months together doing what we loved best – singing, laughing and doing shtick. I'll miss it all so much. Especially the shtick.'
Robert Michael Nesmith was born in Houston, Texes in 1942. He was an only child; his parents, Warren and Bette, divorced when he was four, Mike and his mother moving soon afterwards to Dallas to be closer to her family. Bette took temporary jobs ranging from clerical work to graphic design, eventually attaining the position of executive secretary at Texas Bank & Trust. When Nesmith was thirteen, his mother invented the typewriter correction fluid known commercially as Liquid Paper. Over the next twenty five years, she built the Liquid Paper Corporation into an international company, which she eventually sold to Gillette in 1979 for forty eight million bucks. She died a few months later at which point Mike inherited her vast fortune to go with the other vast fortune he subsequently built for himself through his songwriting and various smart business dealings post-Monkees. (It's probably worth, at this point, dispelling one popular urban myth. Mike Nesmith's mother did not invent Tipp-Ex®™, a 'fact' which has become a staple of a thousand somewhat under-researched pub trivia quizzes. Tipp-Ex is another form of correction fluid which was created and produced by a completely separete company; it was invented by West German Wolfgang Dabisch, who filed a patent in 1958 and remains a registered trademark. It's a minor point but it's worth setting the record straight.) Bette is reported to have made an uncredited cameo appearance in an early Monkees episode, Dance, Monkee, Dance as her son's dancing partner.
Mike attended Thomas Jefferson High School in Dallas, where he participated in choral and drama activities, but enlisted in the US Air Force in 1960 before graduating. He completed basic training in San Antonio and was trained as an aircraft mechanic at Sheppard Air Force Base in Wichita Falls. He was honorably discharged in 1962. A talented self-taught guitarist, Mike started writing and performing music after his stint in the Air Force and found some success as a songwriter for acts such as The Paul Butterfield Blues Band (who recorded his song 'Mary, Mary' a year before The Monkees). He played solo and in a series of folk, country and rock and/or roll bands. He also enrolled in San Antonio College, where he met bassist John London and they began a musical collaboration, performing a mixture of standard folk songs and a few Nesmith's originals. The duo moved to Los Angeles and began singing in folk clubs around the city including a Monday evening residency at The Troubadour, a West Hollywood nightclub that featured new artists. Randy Sparks from The New Christy Minstrels offered Nesmith a publishing deal for his songs and he began his recording career in 1963, releasing a single ('Wandering') on the independent Highness label. He followed this in 1965 with a one-off single on Edan Records ('Just A Little Love') followed by 'The New Recruit' under the name Michael Blessing on Colpix Records.
In late 1965, a friend pointed Mike to a magazine advert seeking 'four insane boys' to play in a Beatles-inspired pop band on a new TV show. He rode his motorcycle to the audition and wore a woollen hat to keep his hair out of his eyes; producers Bob Rafelson and Bert Schneider remembered the 'wool hat guy' and called Nesmith back. Part of Mike's ad-libbed screen test featured in the first Monkees episode, Royal Flush. With Nesmith alongside Mickey Dolenz, Davy Jones and Peter Tork, The Monkees were an immediate sensation both as a - genuinely innovative and groundbreaking - sitcom and, via their spin-off records, as a proper twenty four carat beat combo. Although some press controversy was stirred up (particularly in the UK) which attempted to portray the quartet as a 'manufactured' band (which, to be fair, they were) who didn't even play on their own records (which was only true for a few months and, anyway, the same 'crime' also applied to The Beach Boys during this period), The Monkees was genuinely ahead of its time. Packed with avant-garde film techniques (The Monkees collectively never met a fourth wall they wouldn't gleefully break) and musical sequences which are the direct ancestors of today's pop videos. Nesmith himself later helped develop the format which eventually morphed into MTV.
Nesmith was the only one of his bandmates who had much prior recording experience (although Dolenz had released singles, Jones was a veteran of musical theatre and Tork a hugely talented multi-instrumentalist from the same LA club circuit that Nesmith came through). Nesmith immediately clashed with the music publisher Don Kirshner - who had been hired to oversee the show's music - over creative control of the band, once even putting his fist through a wall and reportedly telling Kirshner 'that could have been your head!' Mike eventually won the battle - The Monkees was making too much money for Screen Gems to argue with one of the stars; Kirshner was fired and went on to work with another fictional band, The Archies (who, as cartoons, were considerably less likely to argue with him over their material). One of the first series' episodes of The Monkees, I've Got A Little Song Here, even parodied the trials of the working songwriter when Mike writes 'I'm Gonna Buy Me A Dog' (actually, a Tommy Boyce/Bobby Hart song from The Monkees first sessions) which becomes a hit for a 'proud and just a little bit 'umble' girl singer but sees Mike fleeced out of his royalties by an unscrupulous publisher who was, clearly, not based on Kirshner. Oh no, very hot water.
Although prevented by Kirshner from contributing musically to the first two Monkees LPs, Mike did get to produce some brilliant country-flavoured songs to both The Monkees ('Papa Genes Blues' and 'Sweet Young Thing') and More Of The Monkees ('Mary, Mary' and 'The Kind Of Girl I Could Love'). Once control of the band's sound had been wrestled from Kirshner's hands, Nesmith became, effectively, the band's musical director, contributing the b-side to their third single (the magnificent 'The Girl I Knew Somewhere') and writing some stupendous songs for their third and fourth LPs, the band's two masterpieces, Headquarters (their Rubber Soul) and Pisces, Aquarius, Capricorn & Jones Ltd (their Revolver) both released in 1967 on which they proved that they were every bit as good a band as the majority of their detractors believed they weren't. On the former, Mike wrote 'You Told Me', 'You Just May Be The One' and 'Sunny Girlfriend', for the latter, 'Daily, Nightly' (the first song on a pop record to feature a Moog synthesizer), 'What Am I Doin' Hangin' Round?' and 'Don't Call On Me' (as well as providing vocals for three other songs on the LP, 'Salesman', 'The Door Into Summer' and 'Love Is Only Sleeping').
Mike also wrote four songs on 1968's strange, but occasionally brilliant The Birds, The Bees & The Monkees (including the terrific 'Tapioca Tundra'), one of his best songs, the slyly political 'Circle Sky' for the band's weird-as-shit Jack Nicholson-scripted movie, Head (also 1968) and, another of his finest works, 'Listen To The Band', as the closing song to their 1969 TV special 33⅓ Revolutions Per Monkee. 'Circle Sky', in particular, is a work of considerable interest, with its 'Bo Diddley' riff and extremely direct lyrics about Viet'nam. Sadly, on the Head soundtrack LP, Nesmith chose to include a rather muddy studio take with the vocals buried deep in the mix rather than the crackling live version performed by The Monkees in the movie. (A much more satisfying alternative studio take, in which you can actually make out what he's singing, can be found on several Monkees compilations - notably Missing Links Vol III - whilst the live version is available on recent extended reissues of the Head soundtrack.) During late 1967, one of Nesmith's most beautiful pre-Monkees songs, 'Different Drum', was a massive US hit for the LA band The Stone Poneys, featuring teenage vocalist Linda Ronstadt. They also recorded another of his songs, 'Some Of Shelley's Blues' as a, less successful, follow-up.
As part of a promotional deal, Gretsch built a one-off, natural-finish, twelve-string electric guitar for Nesmith when he was performing with The Monkees. He earlier played another customised Gretsch twelve-string (best heard on the classic arpeggio opening riff to 1967's 'Pleasant Valley Sunday'). Nesmith used this guitar for his appearances on the television series, as well as The Monkees' live appearances in 1966 and 1967 (check out, for instance, the version of his regular solo slot, Bo Diddley's 'You Can't Judge A Book By The Cover' featured in The Monkees episode, the documentary-style Monkees On Tour. Beginning in 1968, Nesmith used a white six-string Gibson SG for his live appearances. He used that guitar in Head and, for the final original Monkees tour in early 1969. In a post on his Facebook page in 2011, Nesmith reported that, sadly, both guitars were stolen in the early 1970s.
The TV series was cancelled in 1968 after two series and Nesmith left in 1970, following Tork's departure the previous year. Nesmith's last contractual Monkees commitment was a commercial for Kool-Aid and Nerf balls in April 1970 (the spot ends with Nesmith frowning and saying, 'Enerf's enerf!') After the release of their 1969 LP The Monkees Present Nesmith asked to be released from his contract, despite it costing him: 'I had three years left ... at one hundred and fifty thousand dollars a year.' He remained financially restricted until 1980, when he received his inheritance from his late mother's estate. In a 1980 interview with Playboy, he said of that time: 'I had to start telling little tales to the tax man while they were putting tags on the furniture.'
Next Nesmith formed his own group, The First National Band - which included his old friend John London and pedal steel player Red Rhodes; the collective made three fine LPs and had a modest chart hit with 'Joanne' in 1970. While Nesmith never matched his Monkees-era musical successes his First National Band records are hihgly regarded today as pioneering examples of country-rock. That trio of LPs - Magnetic South (1970), Loose Salute (1971) and Nevada Fighter - featured a number of songs which Mike had written and demoed when still with The Monkees, most of which have, subsequently, been released on Rhino records extensive Monkees CD reissue programme ('Calico Girlfriend', 'Nine Times Blue', 'Little Red Rider', 'The Crippled Lion', 'Listen To The Band' and 'Propinquity'). His next group, a psych-rock outfit The Second National Band, featured José Feliciano on percussion and Mike also released music under his own name, including an acclaimed LP of country ballads, the ironically titled And The Hits Just Keep On Comin' (1972).
As the 1970s went along, Nesmith turned more towards production, founding the Pacific Arts Corporation to manage his music and television projects including, in 1979, a show called PopClips, which combined music videos with commentary from a 'veejay', which later became one of the models for MTV. Nesmith recorded a number of LPs for his own label and had a moderate worldwide hit in 1977 with 'Rio'. A few years later, he won the first video of the year GRAMMY for Elephant Parts, a TV special with a similar format to PopClips: music videos, parody commercials and comedy sketches. In 1983, Nesmith produced the music video for the Lionel Richie single 'All Night Long'. Four years later, he produced the video for Michael Jackson's 'The Way You Make Me Feel'. Another notable Pacific Arts production was Alex Cox's cult movie Repo Man, which starred Emilio Estevez as a young punk and Harry Dean Stanton as the titular character in pursuit of a 1964 Chevy Malibu with a possibly-alien secret locked in its trunk. Pacific Arts became a pioneer in the field of home video, before a legal dispute with PBS forced Nesmith to shut it down in the early 1990s; there was a blizzard of lawsuits and countersuits over the home video rights to properties like Masterpiece Theatre and Ken Burns'The Civil War and a jury eventually sided with Nesmith, awarding him more than forty million dollars in punitive damages. 'It's like finding your grandmother stealing your stereo,' he told BBC News at the time. 'You're happy to get your stereo back, but it's sad to find out your grandmother is a thief!'
Nesmith continued to record and perform - even, occasionally, showing up onstage with The Monkees, after a Thirtieth-Anniversary revival catapulted them back into the public consciousness. This blogger was fortunate enough to be at the first gig on that 1997 tour, at Newcastle Arena. It was, with one sole 1986 exception, the first time that Mike, Micky, Peter and Davy had shared a stage since 1968. Always the most reserved and hard-to-interview of the four, Mike was dogged for years by rumours that he didn't get along with his bandmates, or that he wanted to distance himself from the entire phenomenon. Glenn Baker's 1986 biography of the band, Monkeemania: The True Story Of The Monkees, was particularly mean-spirited and hostile towards Mike (much as Shout! was in relation to Paul McCartney) suggesting that, perhaps, Baker had an unfortunate experience with a Mike Nesmith poster at an early age. But, as the band approached its fortieth anniversary, Nesmith began to lighten up in relation to his past. 'The Monkees reside in my life like a little nugget, a gem I enjoy,' he told Uncut magazine with, seemingly, genuine sincerity, in 2016. 'The struggles, the victories are long gone. What has continued has been the remnant light of it.'
Following Davy's horribly untimely death in 2012 Nesmith reunited with Dolenz and Tork to perform concerts throughout the United States during the following two years. Backed with a seven-piece band that included Nesmith's son, Christian, the trio performed songs from across the The Monkees discography. They also produced an exceptionally decent 2016 CD, Good Times! featuring songs written for the band by fans like Noel Gallaghger, Paul Weller, Andy Partridge and Ben Gibbard. When asked why he had decided to return to the band, Nesmith stated, 'I never really left. It is a part of my youth that is always active in my thoughts and part of my overall work as an artist. It stays in a special place.' After Peter's death in 2019, Nesmith and Dolenz elected to perform as a duo, in recent months undertaking The Monkees Farewell Tour, which was originally planned for 2020 but was delayed by Covid.
In 1998, Nesmith published his first novel, The Long Sandy Hair Of Neftoon Zamora. It was developed originally as an online project and was later published by St Martin's Press. A second novel, The America Gene, was published in 2009. In 2017, he released a memoir and companion 'soundtrack' CD Infinite Tuesday: An Autobiographical Riff. Mike was married three times. He met his first wife, Phyllis Ann Barbour, in 1964, whilst they were both at San Antonio College. Together, they had three children: Christian, born in 1965; Jonathan (1968) and Jessica (1970). Nesmith and Phyllis divorced in 1972. Nesmith also had a son, Jason, born in August 1968 to Nurit Wilde, whom he met whilst working on The Monkees. In 1976, he married his second wife, Kathryn Bild. In 2000, he married Victoria Kennedy, but the marriage ended in divorce in 2011. He is survived by his children.

And so, me dear bloggerisationism readers, 2021 has ended - you might have noticed. Good riddance, frankly, to a rather shitty year full of unutterable horridness and only-ceasing-at-a-minute-past-midnight on 1 January ladgefulness. As of consequence, 2022 is now upon us. Like as not, it will be just as ungrateful a little twot as the previous ... fifty odd. But, as usual, we live in hope this one might be different.
Therefore, we start off this first From The North bloggerisationism update of the New Year with a semi-regular feature ...
Make what you will, dear blog reader, from the following list of 'stuff this blogger has watched again', 'stuff this blogger has caught-up with at last' or 'stuff this blogger has tuned into out of curiosity ... and because he's got nothing better to do with his time.' This blogger will leave it up to y'all to decide which one(s) fit into which categor(ies).
Therefore, in no particular order other than the purely chronological, Forbrydelsen (series one).
From The North's favourite TV drama of 2021, Mare Of Easttown.
From The North's favourite movie of 2021, Last Night In Soho.
McCartney, 3,2,1.
Summer Of Soul.
American Rust.
The Nevers.
The Cleaner.
A Field In England.
Dexter: New Blood.
Game Of Thrones, series seven and eight.
Star Trek: Discovery, series four.
Mortimer & Whitehouse Gone Fishing.
War Factories.
Petite Mamam.
From The North favourite Only Connect.
The Sparks Brothers.
Yellowjackets.
Secrets Of The Solar System.
And, of course, the New Year's Day episode of Doctor Who. Which this blogger thought was great, by the way.
'I'm going to be killed by aliens any minute. Again!' This blogger really enjoyed Eve Of The Daleks, dear blog reader. He thought it was sweet and amusing with its Groundhog Day riffs ('same difference!') and From The North favourite Aisling Bea on terrific form. Some great funny moments - the entire assessment of Dan as 'inferior' sequence; 'we're stuck in a time-loop with killer robots'; 'you have a lot of ex-girlfriends ... they're all alive, aren't they?'; 'Is that a good or a bad thing?''Not sure, definitely one or the other!'; 'Haven't seen this much gunpowder since 1605!'Et cetera. So, to sum up, then, that was - unsurprisingly - great. Next, The Sea Devils are back it would seem.
Sad to report, dear blog reader, that this blogger his very self has spent much of the Christmas and New Year period feeling, well, let's not sugar-coat this, pretty rubbish actually. Nothing drastic, of course, many people have far worse health problems than this blogger, but certainly yer actual Keith Telly Topping has had better fortnights in his life.
Although, admittedly, this news story did cheer this blogger up, somewhat. One imagines he's got a big sweat-on right about now.
Also in the news since last From The North was updated, the Honours List; the 'Those We Lost' list; Roman discoveries and From The North favourite Doctor Alice; some people - almost exclusively Middle Class hippy Communist vegan quiche eating Gruniad Morning Star readers - whinging about utter trivia that doesn't matter in the slightest to 'normal' people; the vinyl revival; pussies; the very sad news of the death of Janice Long; the BBC spanking ITV in the overnight ratings of Christmas Day (as usual); Covid strikes big-style at this blogger's beloved (now sellable, but, due to the idiotic mismanagement and penny-pinching of the previous owner, probably relegation-bound) Magpies; from which no one is safe it would seem; Richard Osman on Desert Island Discs; more - self-inflicted - Ashes misery; the standard crass betting on the new Bond crap (which, at least, makes a change from the standard crass betting on the new Doctor crap); Hamilton's lip still trailing the ground; Channel Five spoiling the reveal of the Celebrity MasterChef winner. Which, obviously, wasn't deliberate (oh, no, very hot water); naughty Noth and his naughty doings (allegedly); Jon Snow retires (Middle Class hippy Communist vegan quiche eating Gruniad Morning Star readers everywhere go into mourning and have their Christmases ruined); James Franco's admissions; lickable telly; Eric and Ernie (well, it is Christmas, what do you expect?); more whinging about trivia nobody 'normal' cares about; if you're going to call someone a Nazi, it's probably a good idea to make sure they actually were a member of the Third Reich or, it's going to cost you a ton of bread; a possible reason why Uranus is tipped over on its side; Laura Kuenssberg's forthcoming departure; the Strictly final; Sir Rod in a spot of bother; Michael Sheen; I spy with my big eye; Fred Dineage; Cleese whinging about trivia no one cares about - except him (so, no change there, then); Rump getting desperate; Newtown Linford police box given listed status; David Lloyd retires from Sky; Caroline reaches The White Album and, the extremely surprising - and entirely unexpected - discovery that the rich can't, always, buy their way out of The Slammer.
Plus the greatest bit of news in the history of the world, bar none, Coldplay To Stop Making Music As A Band In 2025. But, you know, that's still four years away, lads, couldn't you just stop now? Don't feel you have to carry on just for us.
Happy New Year, dear From The North blog reader. Let's hope this one's marginally less rotten than its predecessors.

The second From The North bloggerisationisms update of 2022 begins, dear blog reader; with, for those who are interested in such things (hello, David), an update on yer actual Keith Telly Topping's health situation at the Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House. Hands up all those who are now expecting a lengthy - and intimate - list of ailments, sickness, misery and woe. 
Okay, dear blog readers, you can all put your hands down now. Yes, sad to report, this blogger has been feeling effing appalling over the last three or four weeks (since, in fact, just before Christmas). Firstly, a persistent and lingering chest complaint was finally diagnosed as pneumonia (something this blogger always thought was a pretty damned serious thing to have but, at least where he was concerned, it didn't seem to overly concern his team of medical professionals). This blogger is pretty much over it now although he does still have to go for a chest x-ray in a couple of weeks just to make sure there's been no permanent damage to his lungs. No sooner had that malarkey been sort-of whupped than Keith Telly Topping was back at the local Medical Centre to be diagnosed with not one but two fungal infections (one in a somewhat delicate area, the other less, considerably so). These may be - and indeed, probably are - related to each other although Doctor Chris did not rule out the possibility that all of the fungals in the hemisphere had decided, independent of each other, to have attack yer actual Keith Telly Topping when his general immune system was at a jolly low ebb. Add in some of the back pain which this blogger has been a martyr to from, of-and-on, since his twenties (but, particularly around this time of year when the weather gets a bit parky) and you have a full picture of the sorry state in which this blogger finds his very self. This blogger has said it before, dear blog reader, but it's worth repeating - it's not easy being yer actual Keith Telly Topping. Even on a good day. And he doesn't have many good days. 
Still, dear blog reader, whilst it is an ill-wind which blows no one much good, they reckon, lengthy periods with this blogger being either curled up on the couch packing a hot water bottle or two (mostly two) and a quilt or, indeed, giving up on the day completely and taking himself off to his nice warm bed has had one or two beneficial side effects. Such as the opportunity for this blogger to read - for the second time - Mark Lewisohn's groundbreaking (and muscle enhancing, when you try to pick the damn thing up) extended biography of The Be-Atles (a popular beat combo of the 1960s, you might've heard of them), Tune-In.
Over five hundred pages in and it's 1959 - John, Paul, George and Ken ('the rhythms in the guitars, man') have just gotten themselves a residency at Ma Best's Casbah Club in West Derby. But, they 'have no drums.' Will they grow some, dear blog reader? Only time (and, obviously, the author) will tell. Over the next twelve hundred pages and he'll still only get up to the end of 1962. Come on, Mark, I know you're working hard on volume two and we all appreciate that (some of us, admittedly, more than others) but a potential released date for 1963-1966 (even if it's just 'this decade') would be nice!
Of course, this blogger has had plenty more to do whilst suffering from his ill-health and general nastiness than merely read a book. Like, catching up with the last few episodes of his two favourite podcasts, both from the BBC, Kermode & Mayo's Film Review ('hello to Jason and long-live the Blue-Haired Feminists', obviously) and Americast. Both of which, if you've never checked them out, are thoroughly available from Baby Sea Clowns. He's also been rediscovering a - long-abandoned - admiration for Heinz Beef Ravioli in tomato sauce. Because, nothing (but, nothing dear blog reader), helps to temporarily improve the mental well-being of a person who is feeling more than a bit poorly than Heinz Beef Ravioli in tomato sauce. Nothing. Take it from one who knows. And remember, it's one of your five-a-day. Apparently.
Of course, any and all examples of physical exertion for this blogger have been right out of the question. Even those couple of trips down to the Medical Centre to get his shit diagnosed have felt like running a marathon as the cold air hit this blogger's weakened lungs and fair sucked all of the enthusiasm he'd once had for, you know, life right out of his body and scattered it, in tiny fragments aal ower The Estate.
Of course, there has been one other thing which has occupied this blogger's time since New Year's Day which is probably worth reporting. The bit you've all been waiting for (allegedly).
A gosh-darn good question, dear blog reader. One which, in fact, deserves (and, is going to get) a gosh-darn good answer.
Thus, in no particular order other than the purely chronological ... The Be-Atles (a popular beat combo of the 1960s, you might've heard of them): Get Back.
Digging For Britain - From The North favourite Doctor Alive, what's not to love?
Knives Out
Ski Sunday - even if it has gone downhill of late. Come on! Plus, you know, any excuse to play the theme tune.
Waking The Dead
The Torture Garden (good God, something half-way decent on The Horror Channel. That'll never catch on!)
I, Monster
Paddington
Paddington 2 (possibly the first franchise since The Godfather where the second movie is actually better than the first. And the first was pretty good)
Qi XL
Rules Of The Game
Toast Of Tinseltown ('yes, we can hear you, Clem Fandango!')
Jonathan Creek (except for the crap last series with Sarah Alexander which this blogger boycotted on general principle)
Missions
Only Connect
Mark Kermode's Secrets Of Cinema
The Planets (BBC, 1999)
The Man Who Stole Cricket (a fascinating, disturbing and multi-faceted story of greed and criminality almost fatally ruined by the inclusion of the punchable Jonathan Agnew and his sneering'wise after the event' views. For a man who only played three test matches in his career - and he wouldn't have got those if England had an even slightly decent bowling attack at the time - he doesn't half talk as if he believes he's the wise and sagacious bastard-love-child of Don Bradman and Gary Sobers)
Around The World In Eighty Days
The Hunt For Bible John
The World At War
The Cleaner
Arena: The Orson Welles Story
Watergate (BBC, 1994)
Hot Fuzz
Porridge (let's just pretend that the Twenty First Century remake didn't happen)
Almost Famous (Untitled)
Star Trek
Moving swiftly onwards, this blogger had hoped to have seen at least one new movie at the cinema by this stage in 2022, having tentatively arranged with his good chum Young Malcolm to go and see Operation Mincemeat (a subject which both Young Malcolm and this blogger are fascinated by) in early January. Sadly, Warners made a late decision to postpone the UK release of the movie until April due, they claimed, to Covid-related malarkey. A great shame, that, although those previously mentioned health considerations would probably have caused a delay in this blogger getting to see it anyway.
In the meantime, the next cinema visit this blogger makes is likely to be Christian Schwochow's recently-released Munich: The Edge Of War, this blogger having been a great admirer of the Robert Harris novel which it is based upon. Hopefully, another week of antibiotics, rest (and hot water bottle) and this blogger will be in a position to leave the comforting safety of the Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House (and, be able to use the well-known Hungarian phrase 'I am no longer infected' with impunity as a bonus) and get his ass into town to either watch the film, go for a nice Chinese meal or, indeed, both. We can dream, dear blog reader. Dreaming, as Blondie once said, is free.
And now, dear blog reader, here are some of the news stories which have occupied this blogger's attention, amused yer actual Keith Telly Topping, infuriated him or just made him plain perplexed over the last couple of weeks: From The North favourite Elvis Costello giving, as usual, great interview with the Gruniad Morning Star; another Gruniadpiece about Neil Cole's Museum of Classic Sci-Fi, hosted in cellar of his Allendale townhouse; the death of Hollywood trailblazer and From The North favourite Sidney Poitier; the death of another From The North favourite, Peter Bogdanovich; the death of anotherFrom The North favourite, Ronnie Spector; a spectacular display of The Northern Lights pictured over Scotland (and some parts of North Northumberland). Ooo, pretty.
Also, of course, there's been the fall, the fall and the continuing fall of Britain's least-favourite Royal arms dealer and (whisper it) alleged sex offender (allegations which he, it is important to note, strongly denies); the fall, the fall, the fall, the fall and, the potentially ultimate, fall of Britain's least favourite Prime Minister (at least, since the last one); Michael Gove missing a Radio 4 interview slot after getting stuck in a BBC lift (if Simon Mayo is to be believed - and he should know - it was the Radio 1 lift that Gove got stuck in, thus meaning at least he'd've spent half-an-hour being exposed to some bangin' tunes that are Very Popular With Young People); the leader of The Oath Keepers militia group facing sedition charge over last year's Capitol attack (and, it only took them three hundred and seventy one days to press the charges); Alec Baldwin turning his phone over to investigators in the shooting of Halyna Hutchins; Terry Christian back on Radio Derby; the man who was pictured as a baby on the cover of Nirvana's Nevermind issuing a revived lawsuit against the band after his initial complaint of child pornography was thrown out of court by a judge; Kanye West being named as a suspect in an LA 'battery offence' (one presumes that's battery as in 'assault and' rather than 'what you put in your domestic appliances to make them go'); former child prodigy Ruth Slenczynska releasing a new CD at the age of ninety seven; should the BBC play The National Anthem - including, presumably, the racist verse about 'crushing rebellious Scots' - at closedown as, reportedly, some arsewipe smear of a Tory MP wants them to?; a man damaging a BBC headquarters statue with a hammer (a man must have a hobby) and Laura Trevelyan getting surprised by a flurry of snow while filming in Washington DC. In the middle of January. Yeah. I think a fair few people could've told her that was more than a possibility.
Well, dear blog reader, that's your whack for another, shortish, From The North bloggerisationism update from the sickness-infected Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House (where the coughing is regular and the oozing is frequent). Hopefully, by the next time this blogger has enough material to post a further update for you all, the first half of it won't be full of distressing details of medical shenanigans.
Finally, dear blog reader, the first in a new, semi-regular, From The North series, 'Alternative Happy Endings For Films With Decidedly Unhappy Endings'. Number one: Butch Cassidy & The Sundance Kid.
And, on that bombshell, dear blog reader ...

Dudes, Lady-Dudes, all dear blog readers of indeterminate, self-idenitified or bi-curious orientation, welcome you all are to the latest From The North bloggerisationism update. Those dear blog readers who read - and actually survived - yer actual Keith Telly Topping's ceaseless whinging about the manifest crappiness of his life and health situation in the last bloggerisationism update will, no doubt, be delighted to know that this blogger is still feeling more than a bit poorly. And, that the situation at the Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House is little different (this blogger's forthcoming chest x-ray at the RVI notwithstanding).
Except for but one thing; on Friday last, this blogger did, indeed - as threatened last time out - haul his sorry and ill ass into Toon to meet up with his good pal Young Malcolm. And, together, they went and had a pure-dead-lush Chinese meal at The Little Asia on Stowell Street (a restaurant that used to be The Mandarin back in the last decade before, seemingly, a change of management). And, very decent it was, too. The Mandarin was always one of this blogger's favourites - amongst several - in Chinatown but he hadn't been there for several years so it was heartening to see that the quality has, seemingly, been maintained. If you're taking notes, it was the usual three-courses-for-twelve quid lunchtime jobbie of, in this blogger's case, chicken and sweetcorn soup, Cantonese spare ribs and King Prawn in honey and chilli sauce with egg fried rice plus, because it was absolutely bloody taters outside, a nice hot cup of Chinese tea. Tasty. In several senses.
This blogger and Young Malcolm immediately made tentative arrangements to do that all over again at the earliest opportunity - although that's likely to be after we next get our shit together to attend the local kinema (probably to see Munich: The Edge of War) sometime in the next fortnight. In the course of a two hours-plus conversation about, well let's be brutally honest here, mostly the usual 'what movies have you been watching on Talking Pictures, the Horror Channel and BBC4 of late?' Young Malcolm also directed this blogger in the direction of the splendid British Entertainment History Project website and, in particular, a multi-part interview with Val Guest. And, to a Sherlock Holmes TV production this blogger hadn't previously come across, the Anglo-Polish production Sherlock Holmes & Doctor Watson (1979-1980), starring Geoffrey Whitehead, Donald Pickering and Patrick Newell. It was, apparently, mired in some knotty legal issues at the time which caused the series' release to be delayed, but it had now turned up on You Tube. According to Roy Ward Baker (one of several directors involved in the production with links to Hammer and ITC), as production wrapped the head of Polish television who had spearheaded the deal was arrested for corruption. The episodes were subsequently confiscated by authorities leading to inconsistent distribution; the show was never released in the UK and was only shown on a single American station in 1982. Eventually, however, the series premiered on Polish TV and was, reportedly, embraced by the viewers, leading to regular re-runs. Check it out, dear blog reader, on the strength of the handful of episodes this blogger had seen so far, it's a lot of fun.
Elsewhere, dear blog reader, this blogger has been doing little or nothing remotely productive whilst sitting on his sofa wrapped in a dressing gown, several thick blankets and a couple of hot water bottles; watching telly, listening to podcasts and reading books to stop his brain from atrophying. He's still currently still stuck knee-deep in the previously-mentioned re-read of Mark Lewisohn's astonishing The Beatles: All These Years - Tune-In. It's now July 1960 and John, Paul, George, Stuart and Norman have got themselves a nice little residency at The Institute, Neston and there's big talk coming from Allan Williams' office that he might be able to get them to take their heathen rock and/or roll rhythms to Ze Chermans in Hamburg for, allegedly, mucho wonga and as much Preludin®™ as they can chew. They're interested, but problems with obtaining passports - and, the usual one, a lack of regular drums - may lie ahead. Time will tell, it usually does.
Otherwise, it's been the usual stuff which has occupied this blogger's time; the latest episode of From The North favourite Kermode & Mayo's Film Review, including coverage of the splendid-sounding Belfast and Mass and an interview with the Godlike star of the latter, yer actual Jason Isaacs his very self. There's also been From The North favourite Young Caroline's latest 'Listening To The Be-Atles (A Popular Beat Combo Of The 1960s, You Might've Heard Of Them) For The First Time' video in which she reaches Yellow Submarine (available on You Tube). And, another semi-regular From The NorthYou Tube favourite, Parlogram Auctions latest upload, this one on the history of The Be-Atles (A Popular Beat Combo Of The 1960s, You Might've Heard Of Them) releases - or lack of them - behind The Iron Curtain.
And, of course, there's been ...
From The North favourite and location-spotting treasure, Vera.
(How nice it was, incidentally, to see in the latest episode - As The Crow Flies - not only From The North favourite Craig Parkinson in a guest role but, also, another From The North favourite, Wire In The Blood's Simone Lahbib.)
From The North favourite Would I Lie To You? Because, any timeBob Mortimer appears on the show, you're guaranteed a piece of comedy gold. Or several.
From The North favourite Randall & Hopkirk (Deceased) (always worth a periodic re-watch).
The Curse Of The Crimson Alter (in which director Vernon Sewell manages to waste the movie's main asset, the extraordinary cast that had been assembled. And, of course, it's also got The Single Worst Self-Aware Moment In Horror Movie History, the 'Boris Karloff is going to pop-up any moment' line which is teeth-grindingly annoying! Still, for all that, the film's still watchably daft).
Enron: The Smartest Guys In The Room (which, quite apart from being a superb Alex Gibney documentary - one of several - also has the best use of Tom Waits''God's Away On Business' imaginable).
The Inventor: Out For Blood In Silicon Valley (Gibney's similar tale from a decade later about further coporate fraudulence in the Theranos scandal. Which of course is, suddenly, highly topical given the shitload of jail-time Elizabeth Holmes is currently facing for her naughty fraudulent ways).
The Manchurian Candidate (let us, please, pretend the Christ-awful, unwanted Jonathan Demme/Denzel Washington/Meryl Streep remake never happened. If we ignore it, maybe it'll just go away).
Performance (well-tasty Moog, Mick!)
Black Books (because, how can anyone not adore the 'Manny discovers his jazz hands'sequence?)
The Earth Dies Screaming
From The North favourite Qi XL (this blogger could've done without twisty-faced Bridget Christie and punchably unfunny Mark Watson on the latest episode, admittedly. But Johnny Vegas was, as usual, on terrific form).
The Rutles: All You Need Is Cash (yes, I think we can now all agree, it was definitely the trousers ...)
The Outer Limits (a current repeat run on Talking Pictures kicking-off with one of the most heart-stoppingly memorable episodes, The Architects Of Fear).
Aeriel America
The Big Short (and not just for the Margot Robbie in a bubble-bath sequence. Although, admittedly, that was an unexpectedly bonus).
Jekyll
Shatter (shown at some ridiculous hour of the morning by Talking Pictures. See, dear blog reader, this is what using your recording devices wisely is for. And, the discovery that there was, indeed, a reason why it was one of only a handful of post early-1950s Hammer movies that this blogger had never bothered with; because it's an indescribably cheap chock-socky movie trying to be both Shaft and Emter The Dragon simultaneously whilst featuring Peter Cushing in his least Peter Cushing-like role).
The Young Ones ('once in every life time, comes a love like this').
Foyle's War
Close Encounters Of The Third Kind
And Soon The Darkness
Moving on, swiftly, to those stories which this blogger has been fascinated by, repulsed by or bewildered by since the last From The North bloggerisationism update. There was Joss Whedon using an interview with New York magazine to deny a series of misconduct claims made against him (and, to paraphrase Mandy Rice Davies, 'well, he would, wouldn't he?'); the From The North Headline Of The Week award going to, UK's Bird Flu 'Patient Zero' Banned From Keeping Ducks For Another Year; two fans - Americans, obviously - of the actress Ana de Armas have, reportedly, sued Universal Pictures, claiming they were 'duped' into renting a film because she was in the trailer. Conor Woulfe and Peter Rosza whinged that they each paid $3.99 for the comedy Yesterday, only to discover the actress had been removed from the final cut. They are said to be seeking five million bucks compensation 'on behalf of all affected viewers.' But, mainly, on behlaf of themselves.
An architect has, reportedly, applied at the High Court to change his name by deed poll to 'Kill The Police, Crime, Sentencing And Courts Bill' in protest at punitive new anti-protest legislation being debated in the House of Lords. Mind you, this is according to some Middle Class hippy Communist at the Gruniad Morning Star so it may be worthy approaching the veracity of the story with caution. Lego®™ has, allegedly, been sued by a designer over a leather jacket worn by the toy Antoni Porowski in Lego's®™ Queer Eye set. And, another headline that had to be seen to be believed, It Took Four Men & A Fire Extinguisher To Get The Tiger Off Him: The Tragedy Of Vegas Magicians Siegfried & Roy.
A villa in Rome housing the only a mural by Michelangelo Caravaggio has failed to sell at auction (mind you, the asking price was over four hundred and seventy million Euros). A theatre show inspired by Peaky Blinders is set to premiere in Birmingham. Durham University fibre-optics have, reportedly, helped the largest 3D map of the Universe. A man is claimed to have'hijacked an online vigil' held for the murdered Ashling Murphy 'by exposing himself and appearing to masturbate live on-camera'. And, Skywatchers have been treated to a spectacular first full Moon of 2022.
England boss Gareth Southgate is, reportedly, looking into the possibility of taking legal action after his name was used to promote a cryptocurrency scam. Authorities in Hong Kong have 'swooped' on a pet shop, seizing a number of hamsters to be euthanised following a Covid outbreak. Ghislaine Maxwell has requested a retrial, weeks after she was extremely convicted on sexual abuse charges (presumably because she doesn't particularly fancy spending the next sixty five years banged up in The Slammer). People owed an estimated two million smackers by English Defence League founder Stephen Yaxley-Lennon - who has prior convictions for violence, financial and immigration frauds, drug possession, and public order offences - have appointed an independent insolvency expert to try to recover their money. Desert Island Discs celebrates eighty years on the radio. And, a Dairylea cheese advert has been banned for showing girl eating upside down. Which isn't a good thing, apparently. Who knew?
There's also the sad news of the death of Hardy Krüger. And Meat Loaf. Trains (or, more accurately, those who run and operate them) have, reportedly, been 'told to get rid of torrent of Tannoy spam' (and not before time, either). The Gardaí have launched an investigation after two men carried a dead body into an Irish post office in an apparent attempt to claim his pension. And, the rather bizarre story of the chief executive of the UK's largest cat protection charity stepping down after a blazing public row over the welfare of eighteen cats being kept in his colleague's three-bedroom house.
Kiribati has gone into its first lockdown after over thirty passengers on the first international flight in ten months tested positive for Covid (hopefully From The North's lone occasional dear blog reader from the paradise Pacific island is unaffected by this). A search is reportedly underway for a number of monkeys missing after a freeway crash in Pennsylvania. Glasgow has been transformed into a dark, wintry Gotham City as filming takes place for the upcoming Batgirl movie. Extremely former president Mister Rump's legal troubles haven't simply gone away. The government has - to the satisafaction of millions - suffered a series of embarrassing defeats in The House Of Lords over its plans to clamp down on noisy protesters (and, anyone else they don't like). And, a Conservative backbencher who has accused Downing Street of trying to 'blackmail' MPs seeking to oust Bashing Boris Johnson is to meet The Fuzz to discuss his allegations. Because, seemingly, they're far too cowardly and arse-licking to investigate claims of criminality by those in power unless poked with a stick. Hard.
And, then there's sports. It's been a bit of a miserable time for this blogger of late, dear blog reader, what with his beloved, now thankfully sellable but, seemingly, relegation-bound Magpies playing like a bunch of soft-Southern planks (Saturday's wholly unexpectedly victory at Elland Road notwithstanding) and the England cricket team's emnbarrasingly wretched 'surrender befrore the toss' in The Ashes out in Australia. However, it wasn't all bad news - just mostly. Following on from their thrilling on-the-road victories at The Rams and The Cowboys in recent weeks, this blogger's beloved San Francisco Forty Niners contiunues their impressive end-of-season run with a last-gasp thirteen-ten win in a snowbound Green Bay over the Packers, via Robbie Gould's field goal. Them Niners, who only gained a wild-card place in the play-offs with a victory on the final day of the regular season, will now play in the NFC Championship game for the second time in three years, at either The Rams (whom they've already beaten twice this season) or the Tampa Bay Buccaneers next Sunday.
Finally, Keith Telly Topping continues to hope that all dear blog readers are keeping themselves safe and healthy during these dark and troubling times. It's been a bad few weeks for this blogger, frankly, not helped by the weather which has been pure-dead cruel. However, spring will come, dear blog reader. Probably.

In anticipation of the forthcoming final two episodes of Jodie Whittaker's Doctor Who era, a fan-made trailer, Goodbye Thirteen has appeared on You Tube giving all of the impression of being an official BBC Trailer. But, it isn't. Nevertheless, you can check it out here. It's not half-bad, either, dear blog reader.
Meanwhile, as we wait for the broadcast of the forthcoming Legend Of The Sea Devils and then, whatever the final Jodie/Chib episode ends up being called later in the year, Executive Producer Matt Strevens has been interviewed by Doctor Who Magazine about the current status of the final two Jodie episodes. The interview also included some potential spoilers concerning The Doctor's relationship with Yaz which was picked up by the Radio Times's Huw Fullerton in a, somewhat atypical, 'he didn't really say anything of any great consequence but, let's run a story anyway' that several media organs - especially the Radio Times - appear to specialise in. Which can be extremely sodding annoying when they trail something as being 'revelatory' and it really isn't.
Elsewhere, director Jamie Magnus Stone recently 'dropped an unexpected regeneration teaser,'confirming that Jodie Whittaker's transition into the next Doctor will take place 'outside of the TARDIS.' And, if you look upon the phrase 'yeah ... and?' on Google, dear blog reader, you'll find that piece on the Digital Spy website pretty near to the top of the list.
Speaking of superior fan-made videos, there's also one kicking around online which celebrates the forthcoming return to Doctor Who of Russell Davies. You can find it here. (One of dozens of similar conceits, seemingly though this appears to be, by far, the best.) Again, it's a pretty decent piece of work. And, specially to illustrates it, here is an image of Big Rusty his very self looking all severe and angered at life in general and fandom in particular.
Russell, meanwhile, had also been talking to the Doctor Who Magazine not only about his forthcoming return to the franchise he loves but, also, about an old script he wrote when he was but a youngling in the 1980s which, eventually, Doctor Who audio producers Big Finish, decided to adapt. Sadly, however, it features Colin Baker.
The Plymouth Live website excitingly announced to their - half-a-dozen - readers this week that Bad Wolf Studios, the production company which will be making Doctor Who's forthcoming series, has 'posted a job opportunity which requires zero experience. The job advertisement is seeking an office runner for a "high end TV drama", with the role based at Bad Wolf Studios Wales.' So, in other words, a job on the very bottom-rung of the TV production ladder which combines - one presumes - long hours, mind-numbing tedium and appalling pay - can be had for those interested in such a career move. So where, exactly, does one sign up to go and fetch Mister Russell's morning coffee, then?
And finally, on the Doctor Who-front, one Craig Cabell (no, me neither), has claimed that seventeen lost Doctor Who episodes are 'still around' somewhere in the Middle East, with 'parties' there had 'acquired' the material from 'others in Japan, New Zealand, and Australia in 1967 and 1970.' Where Chris obtained this - potentially very interesting - information from, however, he didn't say. Writing on Facebook and reported with great excitement elsewhere, Cabell claims that the material is 'in Arabic' (so, therefore, dubbed) and, whilst he didn't disclose any actual useful info regarding a location, he did reference 'war zones.' An - unnamed and, therefore, almost certainly fictitious - broadcasting agency has, allegedly, 'confirmed' that the alleged episodes were, allegedly, 'sent to the area.' So, essentially, this is a rumour that some missing 1960s Doctor Who may still exist but you can't see them because, you know, there's a war on. Or something. There must be an 'r' in the month. Haven't we been here before, dear blog reader, with the Bleeding Cool website's ludicrously over-the-top rumours of 2013 which ended up being reported as 'fact' by some brain-dribbling moron in the Sunday People (as 'an exclusive', no less)? Listen, dear blog reader, no one on the planet would be more delighted at the discovery of any fragment of missing Doctor Who than this blogger as Keith Telly Topping has made clear many, many times in the past. But, you know, make a sentence from the following words: 'see it', 'believe it', 'when I', 'I'll'! As one of the websites reporting this story helpfully noted: 'The history of Doctor Who fandom is littered with hoaxes, false leads and fantasy. The claim that the material includes Troughton-era stories is "intriguing" [for which, read highly suspicious], as the pre-dubbed Arabic package that the BBC sent to the Middle East in the 1960s only had stories featuring William Hartnell. There is no evidence [this blogger's italics] that any Patrick Troughton serials were broadcast anywhere in the Middle East.' Then, they added: 'All of this ambiguity is standard when talking about missing episodes. In 2013, rumours swirled that Marco Polo had been found alongside The Web Of Fear and The Enemy Of The World. Later gossip suggested that as many as one hundred or more episodes had been uncovered. These rumours were false and stirred up a lot of bad blood in the fandom.' No shit. The Fandom Wars which followed the knowledge that all (or, at least, most) of these rumours had been nothing more than a right load of old crap would've put any conflict which is currently taking place in The Middle East to shame. The person responsible for those rumours has never been identified.
One of the major news stories to emerge since From The North was last updated was the sad announcement of the death, at the age of eighty six, of the comedy legend and From The North favourite Barry Cryer. A man of wit and charm with a CV that reads like a potted history of British comedy.
Stephen Dixon's extensive and well-written obituary of Barry in the Gruniad Morning Star is well worth a few moments of your time, dear blog reader. 'As a writer, comedian, radio quiz panellist, chat show guest and actor, Barry Cryer was part of the backbone of British television and radio comedy for more than sixty years. He wrote for performers including Morecambe & Wise, The Two Ronnies, Tommy Cooper, Jack Benny, Bob Hope, George Burns, Frankie Howerd, Kenny Everett and Les Dawson and was a member of the ramshackle-but-hilarious BBC radio show I'm Sorry I Haven't A Clue from its inception in 1972.' As, indeed, is the BBC News website's uncredited obit: 'It was a life dedicated to comedy, but Cryer refused to delve too deeply into exactly how it was done. "Analysing comedy is like dissecting a frog," he once said. "Nobody laughs and the frog dies."'
One of this blogger's own favourite examples of Barry Cryer at his finest and funniest comes from one of his several appearances on From The North favourite Would I Lie To You? a few years ago and a magical piece of dry and straight-faced lying his face off. We lost a giant in Barry Cryer, dear blog reader and the world is a far less amusing place without him in it.
The fourth series of From The North favourite Star Trek: Discovery is set to return from hiatus on 10 February and, recently, Paramount has officially confirmed the commission of a fifth series, which will comprise ten-episodes, bringing Discovery into line with all the other Star Trek Universe TV shows. Paramount also announced a couple of other exciting-if-entirely-expected renewals. They have picked up a second series of Star Trek: Strange New Worlds, the upcoming - and highly-anticipated - series starring Anson Mount as the Enterprise's first captain, Christopher Pike. Earlier reporting indicated that the series could go into production in February in Toronto. And, finally, Star Trek Lower Decks has been renewed for a fourth ten-episode series. Meanwhile, the second series of Star Trek: Picard is scheduled to begin in the US on 3 March. A third series of that had already been confirmed.
Neil Gaiman's The Sandman was one of the most ambitious comics ever created and was - and remains - one of this blogger's favourites. For decades, the series was deemed unfilmable and, while there had been several failed attempts previously, it is finally getting the live-action adaptation it (hopefully) deserves thanks to Netflix. According to Sanjeev Bhaskar (who will play Cain in the series), the scale of the drama is 'nothing short of extraordinary. I've only got a couple of scenes in [The Sandman], but I have not worked on anything of that kind of scale before,' the actor toldRadio Times. 'We shot one day in the studio and a couple of days on location and in the studio the sets they were building - just walking around, I'd never seen anything like it.'
This blogger never believed for a second that he could love the Godlike Genius of Neil Young any more that he did upon discovering On The Beach and Harvest as a fifteen year old. But, events of last week, Neil's principled stance over the music streaming behemoth Spotify seemingly being happy to host controversial podcasts by COVID-denier Joe Rogan, changed all that. As, indeed, did Neil's subsequent departure from the service. Because, dear blog reader, anything which irks those odious slappable Middle Class hippy Communists wankers Mumford & Sons is a good thing. Always. You slap it to 'em, Neil - 'I see bloody fountains and ten million dune-buggies comin' down the mountains ...'
On a somewhat related note, this blogger very much enjoyed the discussion on the latest episode of From The North's favourite podcast, Kermode & Mayo's Film Review in which Simon demanded to know whether, in light of Neil, Joni Mitchell and Crosby, Stills & Nash (among others) withdrawing their music from Spotify in protest at Rogan's presence, Mark intended to do the same with The Dodge Brothers discography. Which is currently on there, believe this blogger, he haschecked. Pfft, that's disgraceful Kermode. Called yourself an ex-'red-flag waving bolshie bore with a subscription to Fight Racism Fight Imperialism and no sense of humour'? Come The Glorious Day, Comrade ... questions will be asked! By The Committee.
The podcast episode in question was, of course, marvellous as usual. Where else in the Wide Wide World Of Sport, dear blog reader, are you going to get a lengthy discussion on the meaning of Washboard Sam's 'Who Pumped The Wind In My Doughnut?', an in-depth political analysis of Boney M's 'Belfast', an impression of Jared Leto as Dorothy in The Wizard Of Oz, oh and, surprisingly, a couple of movie reviews? The latter will never catch on, clearly.
Game Of Thrones fans - of whom this blogger is very much one - are being invited to step into the world of Westeros at a forty million knicker attraction housing sets, costumes and props from the epic TV adult fantasy drama. The Game Of Thrones Studio Tour has opened at Linen Mill, one of the show's filming locations in Northern Ireland. The Great Hall of Winterfell and Castle Black sets have remained in place there since filming ended in 2018. Of course, you have to get to Northern Ireland to see them. Which isn't exactly cheap.
Dune, which boasts an all-star cast including Timothée Chalamet and Zendaya, leads the nominations for this year's BAFTA Film Awards with eleven. The Power Of The Dog, a gothic Western starring yer actual Benedict Cumberbatch, received eight nominations. Sir Kenneth Branagh's acclaimed Belfast, the black-and-white retelling of his childhood in Northern Ireland, got six. Daniel Craig's final Bond outing No Time To Die has five nominations, including Outstanding British Film. The full list of nominees can be found here. This blogger's own favourite movie of 2021, Edgar Wright's Last Night In Soho, is one of ten nominees in the Outstanding British Film category and is also recognised with a nomination for its Sound Design. Jared Leto's performance as Joe Dolce, sorry, Paolo in House Of Gucci was, staggeringly, not nominated. Presumably because the BAFTA voters were too busy laughing at The Screen Actors Guild Awards. (This blogger doesn't just throw these bloggerisationism updates together, you know, there's at least some thought that goes into the structure. Allegedly.)
Disney has responded to criticism made by From The North favourite Peter Dinklage about its forthcoming live-action adaptation of Snow White & The Seven Dwarfs. Dinklage said that the remake of the 1937 animated movie, based on the much-older fairy tale by The Brothers Grimm, was 'backward.' Disney said it was going to 'avoid reinforcing stereotypes from the original animated film.' One or two people even believed them.
Taylor Swift has criticised full-of-his-own-importance twonk Damon Albarn of Blur (and, later, Gorillaz), after he claimed that she doesn't write her own music. Talking to the LA Times, full-of-his-own-importance twonk Damon Albarn replied to the interviewer describing Swift as 'an excellent songwriter' stating 'she doesn't write her own songs.' Quite how, exactly, full-of-his-own-importance twonk Damon Albarn knows this, he didn't reveal. A bit like that bloke on Facebook claiming there were missing Doctor Who episodes in some - nameless - Middle East war zone. (See, this blogger really wasn't kidding when he said he didn't throw these bloggerisationisms together.) Swift responded to full-of-his-own-importance twonk Damon Albarn on Twitter: 'Was such a big fan of yours until I saw this.' Full-of-his-own-importance twonk Damon Albarn also said in the interview that he 'prefers' Billie Eilish (hey, who doesn't?), whom full-of-his-own-importance twonk Damon Albarn called 'a really interesting songwriter.''I write all of my own songs,' claimed Swift, angrily. 'Your hot take is completely false and so damaging.' So, America being the infamously litigious country it is, perhaps we should expect to see this malarkey sorted out in court. Full-of-his-own-importance twonk Damon Albarn's legal team should be quite interesting given his former bandmate That-Knobcheese-On-Bass's well-established government fiendships.
The Blue Boy, Thomas Gainsborough's famous oil painting, has gone on display at the National Gallery, one hundred years after it was bought and shipped to the US by an American businessman. The London gallery's 1922 farewell show for the work attracted ninety thousand visitors. The 1770 masterpiece has now been loaned back for an exhibition which opened on Tuesday, one hundred years to the day that it left Britain. The gallery described the portrait as 'one of the UK's most famous artworks.'And, also, the inspiration for one of Edwyn Collins's finest tunes. So, double bonus.
Bob Dylan - he was a popular beat combo of the 1960s, your honour - has reportedly sold the master recordings to his entire back catalogue to Sony Music, in the industry's latest blockbuster music acquisition. The deal, completed last July, includes everything from classic 1960s LPs like The Freewheelin' Bopb Dylan, Highway 61 Revisited, Blonde On Blonde and John Wesley Harding, up to Bob's latest release, 2020's Rough & Rowdy Ways. Billboard magazine reports that the catalogue is believed to be worth about two hundred million bucks, based on annual revenues. Dylan previously sold his publishing rights to Universal Music for a reported four hundred million dollars. So, this presumably means that the drinks are now very definitely on yer actual Billionaire Bob. Money doesn't talk, it swears, as someone once said. Probably.
There's a very good piece by the BBC News website's Ian Youngs on the scriptwriter Tony Schumacher who spent ten years in the police in Liverpool before the pressures of the job led him to burn out. Now, he's written a major TV drama about a Liverpool police officer in the middle of a breakdown - The Responder, the best thing that Martin Freeman's done in years.
And, speaking of very good pieces of journalism, Rich Pelley of the Gruniad Moprning Star's interview with From The North favourite Kiefer Sutherland is also highly recommended. It includes at least one brilliantly surreal claim from yer man Kiefer: 'I said "I can do a really good Donald Sutherland for half the money!"' Which, one trusts, Kiefer's dad rather would have rather enjoyed.
Just to prove that they can produce decent journalism when they really put their mind to it, the Radio Times - in the shape of Helen Daly - have done a very good job with their interview with From The North favourite Vicky McClure, currently doing the publicity rounds for her new ITV series, Trigger Point. Proof, if any proof were actually needed dear blog reader, that even a broken clock can be correct twice a day.
And, to be fair, then they only went and did it again a few days later with a piece - by Morgan Jeffrey - on Gary Oldham's forthcoming espionage series, Slow Horses. Good God, dear blog reader, this sort of thing can be habit-forming. Huw Fullerton will be writing something decent next for Radio Times, mark this blogger's words. Nah, on second thoughts, let's not get carried away. That's never likely to happen.
ITV has announced a shake-up of its evening schedules which will see its news programming extended and soaps given new slots. Under the plans, ITV News will be broadcast from 18:30 to 19:30, with 'more focus on stories from outside London.' Which, given that there's a virtually no focus on stories from outside London presently, will, at least, be novel. Emmerdale, which is currently broadcast in the 7pm slot, will move half-an-hour later to make room for, you know, stuff that actually matters to viewers with more than three braincells. Coronation Street will broadcast three hour-long episodes on Monday, Wednesday and Friday, the network said.
This blogger, his rapidly declining health situation notwithstanding, continues with his previously-mentioned nightly re-read of Mark Lewisohn's 'seventeen hundred and twenty eight pages and it still only goes up to 1962'Tune-In biography of The Be-Atles. (They were a popular beat combo of the 1960s, you might've heard of them.) For those taking notes, it is, currently, late 1961 and Mister Epstein is just about to visit The Cavern and find out who these people that made this curious 'My Bonnie' records which NEMS customer Raymond Jones wants to buy actually are. 'Oh, apparently, it's those guys who are always hanging around my shop listening to loud rhythm and blues music and never buying anything. Gosh, don't they look startlingly attractive in their leather cowboy boots, Alistair? I think they're going to be bigger than Elvis. That drummer's a bit limited, though ...'
A driver pulled over by The Fuzz reportedly told officers that he had been driving without a licence or insurance for more than seventy years. Nottinghamshire's Bulwell, Rise Park and Highbury Vale Police said in a - somewhat sneering - Facebook post that the driver, who was born in 1938, claimed he had been driving since the age of twelve. 'Thankfully he had never had an accident, caused anyone an injury and never made anyone lose out financially, by hitting them whilst uninsured,' they added.
The Chase's Mark The Beast Labbett has grovelling apologised to viewers after storming off the show and punching a wall, saying his mental health was 'shot' at that moment. Yeah, this blogger knows exactly how you feel, Mister Beast. The Chaser reportedly'saw red' after he was beaten to the grand prize in a recent episode of the popular ITV show. Saying 'I'm off', he walked off set and whacked a wall on his way out, leaving host, From The North favourite Bradley Walsh, apologising to any children who might have been watching. And, encouraging them not to punch walls because, well, it's a really frigging stupid thing to do and can hurt like jimbuggery if you do it hard enough.
ITV have explained (in a roundabout manner) why two further episodes of From The North favourite Vera were not broadcast earlier in the year as the popular crime drama appeared to be replaced mid-series. Viewers were, reportedly, 'left disappointed' (although, this is according to a media report which, curiously, fails to include any proof that all viewers were asked their opinion. This blogger, for one, never got that memo) to see Vera Stanhope fail to return to their screens on Sunday nights as Trigger Point was shown in its slot. Vera, which is now in its eleventh series, had returned with two explosive (and, very good) episodes. Now, ITV have confirmed why Vera was not broadcast, despite two further episodes from the current series being, reportedly, in the can. A spokesperson told the Northern Echo that despite claims to the contrary, there have not been any delays with post-production and the remaining episodes have, in fact, been held back by ITV so they can reach the 'best possible audience.' As that was confirmed, From The North favourite Brenda Blethyn herself took to social media to confirm that there are two more episodes waiting to be shown - and they are currently filming more as part of the next production block.
Broadcasting watchdog Ofcom (a politically-appointed quango, elected by no one) is to investigate Channel Four after an extended outage over its subtitle services. And, presumably, if they find fault, they will be sending some skinheads round to Channel Four to break some fingers. The broadcaster experienced 'several major outages' late last year, caused, allegedly by 'issues' at the centre which 'handles its playout services.' Its subtitling, signing and audio descriptions were all affected, prompting the National Deaf Children's Society to call for action. Only, you know, they had to do it via sign-language because the subtitles were on the blink. Channel Four - seemingly, anticipating the damned good kicking they're about to receive - snivelled that it was 'sorry' for the 'significant impact.'
One hundred years ago, in February 1922, Sylvia Beach, the owner of the Paris bookshop Shakespeare & Company, published James Joyce's Ulysses, in full, for the first time. Yes. To mark the centenary of the seminal novel's publication, the publisher is set to release an ensemble audio recording of its complete text, featuring major names like From The North favourite Eddie Izzard and Margaret Atwood. More than one hundred writers, artists, comedians and musicians are coming together to read a section from Ulysses for Shakespeare & Company, including Will Self, Jeanette Winterson, Ben Okri and Meena Kandasamy. The recordings will be released as a free podcast, starting on 2 February and ending on 16 June, the date also known as Bloomsday in honour of the day in 1904 when Leopold Bloom wandered the streets of Dublin in Ulysses. Is it too much to hope, dear blog reader, that they give yer actual Eddie then entire 'The sea, the snotgreen sea, the scrotumtightening sea' bit to read. We can always dream. Dreaming, as Blondie once said, is free.
By the way, dear blog reader, don't be in the least bit surprised that yer actual Keith Telly Topping knows a bit of yer man Joyce. And, under no circumstances mutter to your very selves 'not bad for a long-haired weirdo with a bad back.' This blogger did once take (and, indeed, pass ... just) an English Literature A Level which involved him, you know, reading a few books. Joyce's Finnegans Wake, admittedly, was one of the tougher assignments he received; it was especially hard to get past all of that 'bababadalgharaghtakamminarronnkonnbronntonnerronntuonnthunntrovarrhounawnskawntoohoohoordenenthurnuk!' malarkey. Though this blogger is absolutely certain From The North favourite Eddie Izzard could give it a right good go!
From The North favourite and (inter)national icon Stephen Fry has teamed up with Audible to launch a new podcast exploring the human mind. The podcast, Stephen Fry: Inside Your Mind will be a twelve-part series exploring what we know about the brain, how it shapes our lives and the mysteries still to be understood. Stephen will look at 'major questions scientists are still debating on the human mind's capability,' including topics such as memory and sexuality. Three episodes have been made available so far (although you do have to pay for them). Fry has fronted a number of previous Audible Original podcasts including the bestselling historical series Stephen Fry's Victorian Secrets and its 2021 sequel Edwardian Secrets.
From The North favourite yer actual Bill Bailey has revealed his passion for skydiving, admitting that he now jumps 'regularly.' Mind you, this is according to the Cummock Chronicle so, you know, a pinch of salt (or several) might be advisable.
And, speaking of absurdist comedians with odd haircuts, the Duke of York has, reportedly, given up his honorary membership of the prestigious Royal & Ancient Golf Club of St Andrews in Scotland. The decision follows Prince Andrew's loss of various military titles and royal patronages as he prepares to contest a civil sexual assault case in the US. His lawyers last week claimed, rather unconvincingly, that he was 'ready to face a jury trial' in New York over claims brought by Virginia Giuffre that he did some very naughty things to her when she was seventeen. Prince Andrew, a former captain of the golf club, had been a member since 1992. But, now he is no longer. Even though, he claims, that he's done absolutely nothing - nah-thing - wrong. So, make of that what you will, dear blog reader.
Formula 1 could have a new race director in 2022 following the controversial Abu Dhabi Grand Prix, the FIA's head of single-seaters says. The sport's governing body is conducting a review into 2021's final race, when the safety car rules were not followed correctly by race director Michael Masi which caused all manner of malarkey and discombobulation and left Lewis Hamilton with a face like a smacked arse. It was quite funny, as it happens. Peter Bayer, newly appointed as the FIA's head of F1, claimed: 'Michael did a super job in many ways. We told him that.' One or two people even believed him. 'But, also that there is a possibility there could be a new race director.' For which read ...
The vaccine sceptic, anti-lockdown campaigner, failed politicians and twenty-four carat plank Laurence Fox - big fan of Joe Rogan, allegedly - has claimed he has coronavirus. Three people felt sorry for him. Billie Piper's ex, who finished sixth in last year's London mayoral erections (though, to be fair, he did get more votes than Count Binface. And Nims Obunge), tweeted a picture on Sunday of a positive lateral flow test. Above it, he wrote: 'In other news, felt shivery and crap yesterday.' Welcome, Foxy, to this blogger's world. 'Turns out I have been visited by Lord Covid at last and have the Omnicold (if the LFT is to be believed!)' he added. 'On the Ivermectin, saline nasal rinse, quercetin, paracetamol and ibruprofen. More man flu than Wu-flu at the moment.' This blogger has absolutely no intention whatsoever of editorialising on this story. Oh no, very hot water.
A spelling mistake on thousands of pieces of Platinum Jubilee merchandising, calling it the 'Platinum Jubbly', is reportedly proving 'a challenge' for souvenir sellers. One wonders why. The cups and plates were meant to mark the Queen's seventy-year reign. Clearance website boss Karl Baxter said - 'in classic Del Boy-style' - he would pitch them as collectors' items. 'What could be more unique than our limited-edition misprinted crockery?' he asked, more in desperation than hope, one suspects. More than ten thousand pieces of the jubilee memorabilia were produced in China and sent to be sold in the UK, said the clearance firm.
UEFA has decidednot to take legal action against a German restaurant and its 'Champignons League' pizza. European football's governing body says its Champions League competition can 'happily live alongside' the inventively-named pizza. Champignons are, of course, a specific type of mushrooms. Earlier last week, the owners of Pizza Wolke, in Giessen, near Frankfurt, posted an image on their Instagram account showing a cease-and-desist letter which they had received from UEFA, threatening legal action over the name of the frozen pizza. But European football's governing body has now, seemingly, had a change of heart and blamed the decision to threaten action on 'an over-zealous local trademark agent. Clearly some people are making a meal of this story,' it said in a statement. 'UEFA obviously takes the protection of its intellectual property seriously but this instance seems to be a case of an over-zealous local trademark agent acting too hastily. The UEFA Champions League can happily live alongside this delicious-sounding pizza.' The restaurant later posted: 'Breaking news at the late hour, The Champignons League stays where it is.' In the freezer.
Boris Johnson still, allegedly, 'has control of Downing Street' after a string of close aides quit their jobs on Friday, his official spokesman has alleged. One or two people even believed him. Johnson quoted The Lion King as he attempted to rally remaining staff, telling them 'change is good.' Indeed. Especially at the top. His spokesman claimed that Downing Street was 'not currently' expecting more resignations in the coming days. Though, if The Huffington Post is to be believed, Bashing Boris has been reduced to sending begging e-mails to keep himself in a job.
Meanwhile, Conservative MPs have privately been venting their considerable spleen at the appointment of a former Sky executive who entered parliament in 2019 as the replacement for Munira Mirza as the head of Number Ten's policy unit. Mind you, dear blog reader, this is according to some Middle Class hippy Communist of no consequence at the Gruniad Morning Star so it's perfectly possible this is a right load of old made-up crap. MPs from Northern 'red wall' areas were, the article claims, 'particularly vehement' about the promotion of Andrew Griffith, a former investment banker representing a safe Tory seat in West Sussex, to what the Gruniad describes as 'a key role in shaping new government ideas.' The government, seemingly, has ideas, dear blog reader. Whom knew? 'What does he know about real life?' asked one - anonymous and, therefore, probably fictitious - Northern Tory MP. Insert your own punchline here, dear blog reader.
A woman has been jailed for thirty four weeks after faking her own kidnap in a bid to con her ex-boyfriend out of two grand so she could buy Christmas presents for her family. According to the Daily Scum Mail so, that's almost certainly, not true.
Police in Cyprus are, reportedly, investigating after a statue of a giant potato was found vandalised on New Year's Day. It was damaged, but - sadly - not chipped.
The twenty-fourth Winter Olympics is officially under way after the Olympic cauldron was lit in a restrained Opening Ceremony in Beijing on Friday. Almost three thousand athletes from ninety one nations will compete across the games. The International Olympic Committee has been criticised, mostly by Middle Class hippy Communist Gruniad Morning Star readers, admittedly, for awarding the games to China because of the country's numerous human rights abuses. The IOC responded that, yes, the Chinese are a bunch of totalitarian scum with an appalling human rights record. But, on the other hand, they do make a very nice curried king prawn with rice and chips so, you know, swings and roundabouts, innit?
That said, dear blog reader, dragging a Dutch TV reporter away whilst he was giving a live report might - just - be regarded as something of a PR nightmare for the Chinese. One which will require an enormous amount of chicken and sweetcorn soup, deep fried crispy wontons, salt and chilli spare ribs and a nice, fattening bowl of beef chow mein to put right. Over to you, China.
As for the games themselves, one trusts that Team GB will continue its traditional successes in the various Mixed Fiendish Thingy Brushing events. It's one of the few things that we're any good at.
A woman has alleged that she was raped during the production of a new BBC TV cooking show. Police said that the alleged assault is alleged to have occurred in London last September and they are 'reviewing the evidence.' BBC Studios said that it had 'robust processes in place' for supporting staff or freelancers who 'may have been victims of crime.' BBC Three cookery contest Hungry For It, hosted by Stacey Dooley and featuring that awful shouty Big Zuu individual, will see ten aspiring chefs 'testing their skills' whilst living together in a house. Which sounds, from this description like, perhaps, the worst idea for any TV show since Don't Scare The Hare. In a statement, City of London Police said: 'On Sunday 19 September 2021, City of London Police was contacted by another police force, which had received a late report of a rape that took place in September 2021. The evidence in the case is currently being reviewed and the female victim has been supported by specifically-trained officers.'
Germany and the EU have condemned Russia's decision to shut down the Moscow bureau of the international public broadcaster Deutsche Welle. All DW's staff have lost their press accreditations and the channel is now barred from broadcasting in Russia. Germany's culture minister said the move was 'not acceptable in any way.' Russia argued that it was merely retaliating after German regulators decided a new Russian state-run TV channel, RT DE, did not have a suitable licence to operate. One or two people even believed them.
Climate change is threatening to destroy archaeology buried in the UK as the soils that protect them dry out. A Roman toilet seat, the world's oldest boxing glove and the oldest handwritten letter by a woman are some of the extraordinary objects previously discovered in at-risk British peatlands (in the latter case, at the wonderful Vindolanda site in Northumberland which this blogger has visited several times). This means climate change could undermine our understanding of our past, say archaeologists. Not to mention having a significant impact on our future, as well. The problem is that changing weather patterns are drying out some peatlands - the waterlogged soils which cover about ten per cent of the UK. Because peat contains very little oxygen, organic materials like wood, leather and textiles do not rot. They can survive for thousands of years, preserved by the stable anoxic chemistry of the soil.
Facebook's owner Meta Platforms saw its stock market value slump by more than one hundred and seventy million knicker on Thursday, a record daily loss for a US firm. Its shares fell twenty six per cent after quarterly figures asre reportedly to have 'disappointed' investors. Well if, as this blogger discovered to his extreme disappointment last year, Facebook can't be arsed to reply to e-mails asking for help on a hacked account and make contacting them in any alternate way var-nigh impossible then they can hardly whinge when punters leave in droves, can they?
A woman has been sentenced to a lengthy spell in The Slammer after sending herself 'vile' threats from up to thirty fake Instagram accounts she created in an attempt to get her ex-boyfriend banged up in The Joint. Courtney Ireland-Ainsworth, of Runcorn, reportedly made ten police statements and claimed that her former partner Louis Jolly, threatened to stab her. She also told police that Jolly was 'harassing and stalking her,' which led to him being arrested six times. Which wasn't a very nice thing to do, frankly.
Uranus and Neptune are the most twin-like of all the planets in the Solar System. They are almost the same size and mass, have similar compositions and structures, even similar rotation rates. Which makes one glaring difference quite perplexing and, indeed, discombobulating. Neptune is a fetching shade of rich, deep azure, with visible swirling storms. Uranus is more of a featureless, a delicate pale teal. If the two planets are so similar, whence the difference in their methane-based blues? New research, uploaded to preprint server arXiv and awaiting peer review, claims to have found at least one potential answer. According to a team led by planetary physicist Patrick Irwin of Oxford University, an extended layer of haze dilutes the hue of Uranus, resulting in a paler orb compared to its more distant twin; fraternal, if not identical.
A team of scientists want Pluto classified as a planet again - along with dozens of similar bodies in and on the outskirts of the solar system and any found around distant stars. The call goes against a highly controversial resolution from 2006 by the International Astronomical Union which decided Pluto is only a 'dwarf planet' - but the researchers say a rethink will put science back on the right path. If only to prove that what all of our mothers told us was, indeed correct, size really isn't important.
In 2021, the Pacific Islands saw dramatic changes with the threatened exit of Micronesian states from the Pacific Islands Forum and the fall of the region's longest serving political leader, former Samoan Prime Minister Tuilaepa Sailele Malielegaoi. In February, the Pacific Islands Forum broke apart over the controversial election of former Cook Islands Prime Minister Henry Puna as the next Secretary-General, by one vote, over the Micronesian candidate, Gerald Zackios. Five Micronesian states - The Federated States Of Micronesia, Kiribati, The Marshall Islands, Nauru and Palau - got all stroppy and upset about this and announced they would leave the Forum over what they saw as a breach of a 'gentleman's agreement' to rotate the position of Secretary-General between the three sub-regions. While 'Micronexit' is still far from confirmed and negotiations continue, a leaders meeting in September made the rift clear when most Micronesian states boycotted. Hey, guys, don't you know fighting is for zeroes?
That bastion of truthful, accurate and worthy reportage the Daily Mirra must've found themselves with little actual news to report over the last few weeks (because, of course, there's such a dirth of stuff going on at the moment). At least, that appears to be the case if Louise Lavigueur's potential Pulitzer Prize-winning article Celebrities' Unusual Sex Fetishes – Spanking, Sex In Cars, Drinking Blood & Knife Play is anything to go by. One imagines Louise's parents are so proud of their daughter's impressive journalistic endeavours.
And finally, dear blog reader, From The North's undisputed Headline Of The Week award goes to Sky News for Mafia Fugitive Arrested After Being Spotted On Google Street View In Spain. It's technology gone mad so it is, dear blog reader. Have a good week and, you know, if you're a criminal, it might be an idea to stay indoors. This blogger intends to.

A mural to mark the final series of the award-winning From The North favourite Peaky Blinders has been unveiled in Birmingham. The BBC period drama starring Cillian Murphy follows the lives of a family of Brummie gangsters in the early Twentieth Century. (You knew that, right?) The mural, by street artist Akse, was commissioned by the BBC to announce the - previously secret - broadcast date of 27 February.
Meanwhile, Peaky Blinders creator, Steven Knight, has been interviewed by the Gruniad Morning Star on where he plans to go next with the Shelby clan (big shock, it seemingly involves ballet).
Neighbours has been very dropped by Channel Five, putting the long-running Australian soap opera's future under threat. Which is, obviously, a complete tragedy. The network announced on Sunday that it would stop showing the programme later this year, after broadcasting it for more than a decade. Former Neighbours star Jason Donovan said the soap 'changed the Australian television landscape.' Though he didn't say whether that was, necessarily, for the better. Australian broadcaster Network Ten said it would look for a new partner to work with in an effort to keep the soap on-air. Set and filmed in Melbourne, Neighbours was first broadcast in Australia in 1985 and launched on the BBC a year later. It became a huge hit in the UK and in Australia, and helped launch the career of numerous stars, including Kylie Minogue, Jason Donovan, Guy Pearce, Natalie Imbruglia and later Margot Robbie.

The filming of a new television drama threw a 'lifeline' to a village pub that had been forced to close during the pandemic. The Bell Inn, in Kersey, Suffolk, was used as one of the locations of the BritBox series, The Magpie Murders. Wendy Gray, its landlady at the time, said the film company hired the building and car park for two weeks. She said the timing was 'fortuitous' as, due to the restrictions, in May 2021, it could only open outside. The TV series is an adaptation of bestselling writer Anthony Horowitz's crime thriller which was partially set in the county.
The Lord Of The Rings fans - and there are, indeed, quite a few of them - have been given the first glimpse at footage from the new one billion dollar Amazon TV series. The Lord Of The Rings: The Rings Of Power is credited as being the most expensive TV show ever made. Set thousands of years before the books - and Peter Jackson's movies - it will bring author JRR Tolkien's Middle Earth to the small-screen from September. The sixty-second teaser trailer appears to show ancestors of the hobbits and a host of other mysterious characters.
Oscar-winning actress Viola Davis' portrayal of Michelle Obama is seen in the first trailer for a new TV drama. First Lady, which will be broadcast later this year, will explore the lives of the women married to three US presidents. The ten-part series will also star Michelle Pfeiffer as Betty Ford and From The North favourite Gillian Anderson as Eleanor Roosevelt.
In 2019, during the fifth series of the BBC's acclaimed police corruption drama, From The Northreported some truly idiotic comments about the series made by (then) real-life copper, The Met's Cressida Dick - a classic example of 'the Peter Principle' if ever there was one. Someone who appeared to be the very definition of nominative determinism, Dick by name and dick by nature - who, seemingly, hadn't got enough to do in her actual job (whatever that entailed, besides incompetent attempts to cover-up the manslaughter of innocent Brazilians) without wanting a new gig as a whinging TV Critic. 'Leave that to the professionals, sweetheart and maybe try solving some of the reported fifty murders which occurred on your patch in 2018' this blogger noted at the time. 'God save us all, dear blog reader, from armchair critics (this blogger very much included). But, particularly those armed with their own truncheon.'Line Of Duty creator Jed Mercurio's spirited response to this abject nonsense - slapping down The Odious Dick into the gutter in a most satisfying way - was, of course, perfect. Therefore, dear blog reader, as you can probably imagine, The Dick's recent very public - and very funny - resignation after a series of spectacular incompetent blunders in office was greatly welcomed at the Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House. This blogger had intended to write a lengthy - admittedly, somewhat sneering - 'Farewell, Then, Ms Dick & Try To Let The Door Hit Your Arse, Extremely Hard, On The Way Out' obituary to her career. But, he's not going to because From The North favourite Marina Hyde of the Gruniad has done it for him and, indeed, for all of us, Farewell, Cressida Dick, The Met Chief Only Interested In One Thing: Ignoring Bad Coppers. Allow this blogger to quote Marina's first couple of paragraphs, in full, because they're really very good. 'Cressida Dick absolutely despised Line Of Duty,' begins Marina, much as this blogger intended to. But, she's a much better writer than Keith Telly Topping so what follows was preferable. 'The endlessly promoted Metropolitan police chief really crossed the road to tip on the BBC smash hit - so tellingly incensed by a show about sidelined cops doing the painful and unpopular work of rooting out bad apples. As Dame Cressida finally resigns from the spoilt barrel of The Met, I couldn't help but recall a 2019 Radio Times interview in which she expanded on her issues. "I was absolutely outraged by the level of casual and extreme corruption that was being portrayed as the way the police is," Dick told the magazine. "It's so far from that. The standards and professionalism are so high." Mmm. It was left to the show's creator, Jed Mercurio, to offer a little background. "My inspiration for creating Line Of Duty was The Met Police shooting an innocent man and their dishonesty in the aftermath," he explained icily, "so thanks to Cressida Dick for reminding me of our connection." Dick, of course, ran the bungled counterterrorism operation that resulted in Met officers fatally shooting Jean Charles de Menezes, an entirely innocent twenty seven-year-old electrician. But oddly - indeed, bizarrely - that wasn't the only Mercurio creation The Met chief had issues with. Both in the Radio Times interview and in an earlier outing on GMB, she added that she'd had to switch off the BBC's Bodyguard - at the time, the most watched drama since current records began - because she couldn't handle the mere idea of the two protagonists beginning a sexual relationship. As she put it: "The moment when the Home Secretary made a pass at the protection officer was just beyond me, I'm afraid." And yet, beyond her how? Beyond her why? In recent memory, a police protection officer had been dismissed for allegedly having an affair with the wife of the then Home Secretary, Alan Johnson. At the time, the special operations directorate to which he reported was being run by ... Cressida Dick. Forgive me for beginning by focusing on Dick's outrage about entirely fictional events, when she appeared to experience only mild displeasure at so many hideously real situations involving her officers. But Dame Cressida's telly critiques unwittingly revealed her most deadly flaws: a total failure of imagination, even in the face of overwhelming evidence and a total loyalty to officers that superseded all else. The public came a very distant second and increasingly knew it.' Yeah. What she said, dear blog reader. To the very end, Dick by name ...
And, speaking of the Gruniad Morning Star - and proving that even a broken clock can be right twice a day - Benjie Goodhart's excellent piece 'At 6pm Every Evening The Screen Went Blank': The Outlandish Tale Of The UK's TV Blackout is, also, well worth a few moments of every dear blog reader's time. Especially for those with an interest in TV history (and, let's face it, that should be most of you).
Buck-toothed horrorshow (and drag) Rob Beckett has reportedly told ITV 'I'll see you in court' after the broadcaster allegedly 'replaced' him on a recent episode of The Masked Singer. The thirty six-year-old extremely unfunny 'comedian' (very popular with students, apparently) has been 'taking to social media' to insist he was The Traffic Cone on the bafflingly popular singing competition and feature in From The North's Worst TV Shows list of both 2020 and 2021. Slappably-unfunny plank Beckett continued to claim he was the character on the show even when it was revealed to be Aled Jones prompting a response from the broadcaster. The broadcaster replied with a laughing emoji to which Beckett replied: 'See you in court.' And, this utter self-publicising horseshit constitutes 'news' apparently.
If Bamber Gascoigne was ever irked by the fact that he was best known to the British public for the phrase: 'Fingers on buzzers, your starter for ten,' he never showed it. More than thirty years after his retirement as the quizmaster on University Challenge - a post he had held for a quarter of a century between 1962 and 1987 - the phrase still dogged him, despite everything else he did in a life well-lived. Gascoigne, who has died aged eighty seven, with his easy patrician manner, born of a family steeped in centuries of aristocratic connections, proved an inspired if incongruous choice to chair a television quiz show on a commercial channel, even in the early 1960s. He looked and spoke like a junior Oxbridge don, gradually evolving into an uncensorious professor. He did not, he noted, mind being parodied by Griff Rhys Jones in an episode of The Young Ones, or by Mark Gatiss in the movie Starter For Ten in 2006 and he even played himself in an episode of Jonathan Creek.
TV producer and From The North favourite Beryl Vertue, whose company created Coupling, Men Behaving Badly and Sherlock, has died aged ninety. The media executive, who rose to the top of the industry after starting as a secretary, 'passed away peacefully' on Saturday, her family said. Industry colleagues called her one of the most influential women in British TV. Daughters Sue and Debbie, producers at the company their mother founded, said: 'She meant so much to so many.' Beryl's career began when she was asked by the writers of Hancock's Half Hour and Steptoe & Son, Ray Galton and Alan Simpson, to type up their scripts. In the mid-1950s, Beryl become an agent, almost by accident, representing comedy writers Spike Milligan, Eric Sykes, Johnny Speight, Galton and Simpson, and Terry Nation (for whom she brilliantly negotiated to keep partial rights to his Dalek creation for Doctor Who). She also Hancock (until 1961) and Frankie Howerd. She also had success selling shows such as Til Death Us Do Part and Steptoe & Son to the US market. In 1979, she founded Hartswood films, producing a series of shows including the 1990s sitcom Men Behaving Badly. Her company was also behind the critically acclaimed drama Sherlock starring Benedict Cumberbatch, produced by Vertue and her daughter Sue, who is married to the series co-creator From The North favourite The Lord Thy God Steven Moffat (OBE).
Love Thy Neighbour star Jack Smethurst has died peacefully at home aged eighty nine, his family has confirmed. Smethurst played the bigoted factory worker Eddie Booth in the 1970s ITV sitcom.
The American humourist and From The North favourite PJ O'Rourke, who has died aged seventy four of lung cancer, was a writer of sharp wit which ranged from dry to lusciously over-the-top, but was always leavened by a measure of self-deprecation that stopped it from being cruel or harsh. In the political satire that dominated his later writing, he became that rarest of things, a funny conservative.
Film-maker Ivan Reitman, who directed blockbuster comedies including the original Ghostbusters, has died at the age of seventy five. After his family fled Communist oppression in post-war Czechoslovakia, Reitman grew up in Canada, where he trained in film-making. His big break came when he produced the 1978 frat-house comedy National Lampoon's Animal House. His other films as director included Twins and Kindergarten Cop. He died peacefully in his sleep at his home in California, his family said.
Sections of the fabric roof of London's O2 arena have been shredded by the strength of Storm Eunice's winds, causing the venue to temporarily close. Opened in 2000 - and formerly known as The Millennium Dome - the landmark in Greenwich has been damaged by gusts of up to eighty miles per hour. 'The safety of our visitors remains of paramount importance,' the O2 said in a statement.
A live YouTube stream of planes attempting to land at Heathrow during Storm Eunice has become an unexpected online hit. Aviation enthusiast Jerry Dyer has been streaming aircraft's attempts to land at the London airport in the strong winds on his Big Jet TV channel. His lively commentary - plus the footage as planes approach, sometimes having to abort - have been attracting more than two hundred thousand live viewers at times. Dyer told the BBC that the feed was 'the most exciting stuff you can get.' For several hours on Friday, Dyer has been running the live stream from the roof of a specially adapted van, shouting 'go on son,''nicely done' and 'fair play mate' at pilots who land successfully. For trickier landings, he advised pilots to 'go around again' and, as one pilot abandoned an attempt to touch down at the last second amid strong winds, Dyer exclaimed: 'Ooh, he did not like that.'
US actor Rockmond Dunbar is attempting to sue the makers of TV drama Nine-One-One, saying he was fired after claiming exemption from having a Covid vaccination. He says that he was denied 'medical and religious exemptions' and 'faced racial discrimination' when producers Twentieth Television stipulated that all actors had to be vaccinated. The Disney-owned company says it complied with its legal obligations and denied making decisions based on race. Dunbar, who has appeared on the drama since it began on the FOX network in 2018, requested exemptions based on his 'beliefs' as a member of The Church Of Universal Wisdom (no, me neither) and an undisclosed disability, according to his legal case. He claims that he was refused permission to remain unvaccinated while other cast and crew members - of whom 'none sought a religious exemption and none were Black' - were granted exemptions.
Production of the BBC's MasterChef will be moved to Birmingham from 2024, producers have announced. It will be the first time the show, one of the BBC's most popular franchises, will be made outside of London in more than twenty years. It is set to be made at the new Digbeth Loc Studios, run by Peaky Blinders creator Steven Knight. The BBC's Director General, Tim Davie, said that the decision was 'great news for Birmingham and the BBC. We said we would create jobs and investment, bringing decision-making and productions to the West Midlands as part of our Across the UK plans,' he added. 'Moving one of our biggest programme brands shows we are making that a reality.' In 2021, the BBC announced plans to shift its 'creative and journalistic centre' away from London to 'better reflect, represent and serve all parts of the country.'MasterChef is one of the corporation's biggest entertainment shows and a number of other spin-offs - including Celebrity MasterChef, MasterChef: The Professionals and Young MasterChef - will also be produced in Birmingham.
A statue of The Famous Be-Atles' famous manager famous Brian Epstein in his famous home city of Liverpool has been granted planning permission. Famously. The sculpture of the impresario, who also managed Cilla Black and Gerry & The Pacemakers, will be erected near to his family's former record shop, NEMS, in Whitechapel. Epstein managed The Famous Be-Atles (a popular beat combo of the 1960s, you might've heard of them) from November 1961 after watching them at The Famous Cavern Club until his death six years later. The Extremely Famous Sir Paul McCartney said that he was 'delighted' to hear of the plans. Jane Robbins, one of the statue's sculptors and Famous McCartney's somewhat less-famous cousin, said: 'He said a few rude words but we were at a family party and I had the photos of the final clay on my phone. I showed him the photograph and he said "bleep, bleep, bleep Janie, that's dead good, like." He spent several minutes looking at it and he was delighted. I don't know if there was an actual a tear in his eye but he was very moved to see the clay and that, I think, speaks volumes. When you get a likeness, people do often cry because that person isn't around anymore.'
A notebook containing hand-written lyrics to The Famous Be-Atles famous classic 'Hey Jude' is to go on display for the first time. The book, compiled between 1967 and 1968, features The Famous Sir Paul McCartney's draft of the famous song alongside poetry and doodles. Stephen Maycock, a specialist in The Famous Be-Atles memorabilia, said that the book provided 'a fascinating insight' into The Famous Be-Atles''creative process.' It will be exhibited at The Be-Atles Story in Liverpool from 22 February. The notebook also contains a part-lyric for 'Sgt Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band', recording notes by The Famous George Harrison (Scouser Of Distinction) for 'All You Need Is Love' as well as verses for other 1967-era songs including 'Being For The Benefit Of Mister Kite', 'Good Morning, Good Morning' and 'All Together Now'. The book belonged to The Famous Be-Atles famous tour manager, the late (and famous) Mal Evans.
From The North favourite Neil Young has continued to criticise Spotify, following his extremely impressive departure from the platform in protest over their support of podcaster Joe Rogan. In a message posted to his website, Young wrote: 'To the musicians and creators in the world, I say this: You must be able to find a better place than Spotify to be the home of your art. To the workers at Spotify, I say [co-founder and chief executive officer] Daniel Ek is your big problem - not Joe Rogan. Ek pulls the strings. Get out of that place before it eats up your soul. The only goals stated by Ek are about numbers - not art, not creativity.' Neil also encouraged readers to divest from four US banks - Chase, Citi, Bank of America and Wells Fargo - 'for their continued funding of the fossil fuel damage even as the global temperature keeps climbing.'
Meanwhile, From The North ... whatever the opposite of 'favourite' is, Sting, has reportedly sold his entire songwriting back catalogue, including solo work and material by The Police, to the Universal Music Group. For a shitload of coin, one imagines. No justice.
Dizzee Rascal (he is a rapper-type individual, very popular with young people, m'lud) pushed and injured his ex-fiancee during a row when he dropped off their children, a court has heard. The rapper, whose real name is Dylan Kwabena Mills, has been accused of attacking Cassandra Jones at a property in Streatham in June 2021. Wimbledon Magistrates' Court heard that the thirty six-year-old 'barged' his way into the house, put his forehead against Jones' and 'pushed her to the ground.'Really hard. Dizzee Rascal of Sevenoaks in Kent, denies 'assault by beating.' Jones and the grime artist, whose top hit tunes include 'Bonkers' and 'Dance Wiv Me', had two children before they split up in February 2021.
From The North's favourite headline of the week, by some distance, came from the Gruniad. Boris Johnson 'Not A Complete Clown', Says His New Press Chief. Which is, obviously, something of a relief to have confirmed.
Though, to be fair, Pine Martens To Be Used As 'Bouncers' To Keep Grey Squirrels Out Of Highlands, from the same media organ, pushed it jolly close to the award.
As, indeed, did the BBC News website's KitKat & Durex Makers Nestle And Reckitt Warn Of Price Rises. But, how will the human race survive this horrific discombobulation?
And, as if that's not bad enough, dear blog reader, Unilever, the firm behind brands such as Marmite and Dove Soap, has saidit will also put up its prices as 'overheads continue to rise.' Chocolate, condoms and, now, Marmite are getting more expensive, dear blog reader. We might as well just give up and kill ourselves, clearly.
Protest is familiar in Westminster and always has been. It's an important part of our political tradition. But in 2022, very angry gatherings are increasingly common. Small bands of furious members of the public are often spotted on the corner of Parliament Square, or outside Portcullis House, where many MPs work and gather. They sometimes hold placards and are normally carrying camera phones to record and share their exploits, carefully watching who goes past. Last Monday such a group spotted the Labour leader Sir Keir Starmer. He became the latest, along with the Shadow Foreign Secretary and Labour's leader in the Lords, to be personally targeted and swarmed by wretched lowlife scum, before being bundled into the back of a police car for his own safety. The experience, inevitably filmed and posted online within minutes, was another ugly reminder of what many politicians encounter in the name of this modern form of protest - abusive, personal, edgy. But it's also reignited the considerable anger inside the Conservative Party at the Prime Minister's false claims in Parliament a week previously. Bashing Boris Johnson - who, remember, is 'not a complete clown', apparently - misleadingly suggested that the Labour leader had been involved in the decision not to prosecute serial sex offender Jimmy Savile, a political attack which attracted criticism from some Conservatives straight away. And, wasn't even true. It led later in the week to the resignation of one of Johnson's closest political confidants and was one of the reasons why concern was spreading in Conservative ranks about Johnson's leadership. His refusal to apologise - and, only partial retraction - made some MPs queasy and was the trigger for at least one of them to add their private letter to those already submitted in an effort to oust him.
A sushi restaurant, due to open for the first time last Friday, has grovellingly apologised after 'mistakenly' publishing a dress code which specified women had to wear 'sexy' clothing to gain entry. Beluga in Leatherhead, Surrey, said on its website that women could wear 'sexy black ankle-strap heels with a form-fitting top', or could opt for 'skinny jeans' or 'midi or bodycon dresses.' Men were told not to wear tracksuits. In a post on Instagram the restaurant offered its 'sincere apologies.' It said: 'The description was inappropriate, disrespectful and offensive and does not reflect the image we're seeking to promote. We wish to clarify that our policy is a smart dress code for men and women.'

Keith Telly Topping always believed that when/if the end came for From The North (even if it was only to be a temporarily finale), it would be due to some truly world-shattering and unimaginable event. Like, say The Russians invading Ukraine and dragging the world to the very brink of nuclear war. It was going to take something suitably unlikely and ridiculous as that to bring this blog to a conclusion. 'Once I believed that when love came to me/It would come with rockets, bells and poetry.' Or, actually, more Armagideon Time, frankly. Sadly, closer-to-The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House-style events of a personal nature have been the ultimate cause.
As this blogger has mentioned on several occasions earlier this year (and a couple of times at the back end of 2021) Keith Telly Topping's general state of well-being (or lack of it) has fluctuated between 'feeling a bit grotty' and 'feeling a lot grotty' with most, though by no means all, of the concern focused on this blogger's long-standing lower back pain issues. All that changed over the weekend and, particularly, on Monday when a general of 'feeling much grottier than normal' kicked in big-style at The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House. The symptoms included (and the list is by-no-means all-inclusive), dizziness, light-headedness and at least one incident of yer actual fainting, a - not-exactly new-but-certainly-much worse - bout of diarrhoea and, at the same time, a (probably-related) urine infection, a general lack of energy and pep and a similar lack of appetite (with occasional stomach cramps). There was also something almost definitely related to the last point, a rather dramatic weight-loss (over a stone in under three months), a re-occurrence of that nasty fungal naval infection previously mentioned on this blog, overnight leg cramps causing a regular lack of sleep, that back pain (muscular rather than nerve-related, it would seem) and, another oldie-but-goldie, a persistent cough (particularly during the early part of each day). Add-in a recently-acquired 'pressure ulcer' on this blogger's lower lumber (a case of 'too much sitting around whinging about how bad he's feeling to you lot', no doubt) and you have a pretty picture of just how 'feeling much grottier than normal' Keith Telly Topping found himself. Every bit as grotty, in fact, as those grotty shirts that George Harrison thought were 'dead grotty' in A Hard Day's Night. Effing appallingly grotty in actualité.
This blogger had, initially, merely intended to ring his local medical centre for a bit of general advice and to book in an appointment for later in the week with one of the doctors but, receiving a call-back from Doctor Nasir - whom this blogger had previously sought advice from but had not seen in some time - brought about a conversation which had Doctor Nasir concerned enough to arrange to come to The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House in the afternoon. For a shufty at the grotty state yer actual Keith Telly Topping had got himself into, chiefly. In addition to the back problems, Doctor Nasir was most concerned about the diarrhoea, the light-headedness, dizziness and fainting and, most of all, a symptom which Keith Telly Topping hadn't even really noticed but which Doctor Nasir correctly identified straight-away as a potential cause for some, if not all, of these other symptoms. Anaemia is a deficiency in the number or quality of red blood cells in ones body. Taking one look at Keith Telly Topping slumped in the Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House pit, apparently white-with-a-tinge-of-yellow-as-a-white-and-yellow-tinged-sheet and looking as anaemic as one of Count Dracula's victims, caused Doctor Nasir to exclaim (only not in so many words) 'Good God, Keith Telly Topping, you look as white as a ginger bird's arse. Off with you to the hospital this instant ... or, within the next four hours as I've ordered you an ambulance.'
Approximately five-and-a-half hours later (once the ambulancemen'd had a - one trusts - particularly fine extended tea-break), the doors of Stately Telly Topping were fair knocked off their hinges as the duo arrived whilst Keith Telly Topping had, temporarily, fallen asleep in his chair having waited far longer than he'd been led to expect. The overall situation wasn't exactly helped by their decision to get Keith Telly Topping and his assembled-during-the-afternoon overnight bag (and The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House walking stick) into the ambulance and then to conduct the initial 'so what's wrong with you, then, pal ... though you do look a bit peaky?' (the answer to at least one of the questions they asked was 'I've been shitting pints recently, guys, it's been a real problem') whilst the sliding doors of the ambulance remained wide-open. And, at least a couple of The Stately Telly Topping Manor Estate youths were riding their bikes up and down the street within earshot of the conversation going on inside. Keith Telly Topping, at this point, said something which he would normally have considered general good-form and asked 'any chance we could do this with the doors closed, lads? Some of it's a bit sensitive.' So sensitive, in fact, that Keith Telly Topping is now writing a blog about it. As you do.
Turns out they could and did. After a thorough pumping - including such gems as 'so, to sum up then, you're feeling much, much grottier than normal? Even more grotty than them shirts George Harrison didn't like in A Hard Day's Night?' the ambulance sped off - at speed. Perhaps mercifully, they did not knock over either of the Estate-youths-on-bikes, the ambulance lads' driving abilities proving to be considerably more skilful than their tact and discretion when it comes to private medical information, seemingly. Shortly after 8pm on Monday evening Keith Telly Topping arrived at The Assessment Suite of the - world-famous - Royal Victory Infirmary in Central Newcastle (established 1752, twice winners of an entirely deserved Outstanding Rating from the Care Quality Commission) for ... well, let's be honest about this, a damned good bit of that there assessment.
All of which took place over approximately the next hour - much quicker than yer actual had expected - and, aided by Doctor Nasir's jolly helpful suggestion that Keith Telly Topping should use his time in the afternoon whilst waiting for the ambulance to make a list of all the various symptoms which this blogger had described to Doctor Nasir earlier. And, to include any ones he'd forgotten about - it was decided that Keith Telly Topping should be kept in overnight. Moved into The Assessment Suite-proper and given a right good, hard further assessing by the magnificent NHS staff. Done by 10.30pm, Keith Telly Topping was enjoying a slightly disturbed-by-drugs night's sleep. Let it be noted, the staff were every bit as superb, helpful, caring and on-the-ball as this blogger - a fan of the NHS his entire life - has expected. In particular Doctor Lottie and Doctor Christian, aided by Nurses Molly, Claire, Grace, Lewis (with whom Keith Telly Topping really hit it off) and Kay were terrific and, very quickly, came to similar conclusions as Doctor Nasir with regard to the most important and potentially serious of the symptoms - the diarrhoea, the light-headedness and the anaemia.
One wishes the same could be said for the other numbskulls taking up beds in The Assessment Suite along with yer actual Keith Telly Topping. The Assessment Suite clearly being a general dumping ground for ninetysomethings with dementia whose idea of a good time is to spend the night bellowing 'HELLO!' and keeping us other - less 'mental-bloke' - patients awake.
This blogger then spent a reasonably comfortable Tuesday morning, afternoon and evening. And a perfectly hideous overnight-Tuesday-into-Wednesday, a long-dark night of the soul whilst he threatened, with increasing loudness - and increasing seriousness - to go across the ward and give the chap bellowing 'HELLO!' for the fifty seventh time a damned good fisting in the mush. Really hard. Finally, just as he'd managed to drop off to sleep (having earlier made the idiotic suggestion that the bellower's bed could, perhaps, be moved into the corridor so the staff could put up with what we'd been putting up with for the previous twenty four hours - a suggestion that this blogger was astonished to find taken seriously and then adopted), The Assessment Suite chose that moment (4am on Wednesday morning) to move this blogger. To Ward Thirty, a general dumping ground for a variety of complaints, one of which was/is Gastro-Related. So, the rest of Keith Telly Topping's already much-interrupted Wednesday night's kip was interrupted further by moving wards until unconsciousness finally biffed him in the gut like a bowl of warm custard and he surrendered to welcome oblivion sometime around 5am.
Wednesday, itself, after a long, long, long lie-in wasn't actually too bad a day, all things considered. The test continued, lots and lots of blood tests (mostly into the back of this blogger's black-and-blue hand as finding suitable veins in either of his arms often proved to be too difficult), a CAT-scan, some chest x-rays, regular checks on this blogger's blood sugar-levels (he is, after all, type-2-diabetic) via those fingers-prick-type affairs and, blood pressure and ear-temperature tests. None of them unpleasant, per se, in the great scheme of things. That joy was to come the following day. The heroes of Wednesday were, in no particular order other than the purely hierarchical, Doctor Shannon and Doctor Alex, Sister Emma, Nurses and Auxiliaries Vicki, Lianne, Kayleigh, Jovie, Danielle, Georgina, Lily, Patricia and, this blogger's particular heroine, Trainee Nurse Sarah who really came into her own on Thursday.
Firstly, she managed to organise - and, indeed, aid - Keith Telly Topping in getting a lovely hot shower first thing in the morning, washing his greasy hair (although, efforts to get The Stately Telly Topping Manor chinny-chin-chin shaved to anything approaching approachable, were abandoned very quickly). Then, in the afternoon, as a trainee, Sarah got to accompany Keith Telly Topping on what was, without doubt, one of the worst two experiences of his life, an endoscopy. Type the word into Google, dear blog reader and you get a rather bland-sounding explanation, 'a test to look inside your body. A long, thin tube with a small camera inside, called an endoscope, is passed into your body through a natural opening such as your mouth.' Mouth? Yeah. Right. That may be one definition of the procedure but, it hasn't been Keith Telly Topping's experience on either of the two occasions that he's gone through it; rather it was somewhat closer to, let's say, 'having a stick with a camera on it rammed up your sphincter and then being able to watch the results on-screen.'
Keith Telly Topping was given an endoscopy once previously, six years ago and has always described that as 'the single worst experience of my life.' That record, dear blog reader, was equalled, broken and then shattered into a million tiny fragments on Thursday of this week. Afterwards, apparently, Sarah was happy to tell her colleagues that I'd been 'very brave' during the endoscopy. That was a lie, dear blog reader - though bless her for saying so. This blogger doesn't feel he was that or anything even remotely like it; in fact, at one point he almost lost his shit completely - if not quite literally - when the chap doing to procedure expressed his 'interest' in the fact that, although (thankfully) no obvious lesions or other potentially life-threatening points of 'interest' were on display, a - marginal - thickening of the sphincter wall was causing the chap some (mostly aesthetic) intellectual curiosity. 'I'm glad someone's finding this interesting' wailed Keith Telly Topping, full of self-pity and woe.
After what seemed like forever but was, probably, about twenty minutes, it was all over with many - sincere - apologies offered by Keith Telly Topping to the sphincter-probing camera-up-the-arse staff. For his damned poor performance as A Man and lack of ability to demonstrate some stiff-upper-lip in the face of - not that significant - adversity. We then had a half-hour wait for someone to wheel a sore Keith Telly Topping back to Ward Thirty during which time Sarah expressed interest in Keith Telly Topping's writing and journalism career with Guinness, Virgin and Telos back in the 2000s and we chatted about some forthcoming telly of, ahem, 'interest.' Keith Telly Topping advised Young Sarah to catch up with Peaky Blinders (reallygood interview with From The North favourite Cillian in the Gruniad this week). Sarah herself, meanwhile, was extolling the virtues of former From The North favourite Westworld - albeit, unusually, she's more of a fan of the critically-less-than-slavvered-over series three rather than the acclaimed earlier episodes. We chatted about Buffy, Angel, Doctor Who, Life On Mars, The West Wing, Qi, Would I Lie To You?, The West Wing, 24, Kermode & Mayo's Film Review, Last Night In Soho, Nobody, No Time To Die - the usual malarkey, in fact - and eventually, we got back to the ward in, more-or-less one piece. Keith Telly Topping was now off the 'no solid foods' regime he'd endured for most of Thursday (which shall now and forever be referred to as 'The Day The Camera Went Up The Arse Day') and he was able to eat something.
A word about that. Keith Telly Topping had heard all of the 'hospital food' horror stories and jokes over the years but, a couple of overnighters during his childhood notwithstanding, had little previous experience of lengthy hospital stays, he found the food not at all unpleasant. And, as a consequence, he tucked into his (for example) mild chicken curry with boiled rice and jam roly-poly pudding with some relish (or, some hot custard anyway). In fact, this was a good sign as although Keith Telly Topping hadn't (and still hasn't) entirely recovered his missing-in-action appetite, at least he was getting fed a bit more than he had been of late at The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House.
Keith Telly Topping also had another meeting with Doctor Alex and Consultant Sara about his case and, the general impression he got was that they couldn't wait to get him out of their nice clean hospital and back to the filth and squalor of The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House at the earliest given opportunity (though, not in quite those words). The general consensus of the medical team was that, yes, Keith Telly Topping was - and remains - quite sick and the previously undiagnosed anaemia was still a cause of concern. The main reason for the majority of Keith Telly Topping's symptoms, it appeared, was directly related to this and whilst some of the blood-levels were, as yet, less responsive than hoped, the hospital had, at least, identified one of the causes, B-12 Deficiency. 'What are the symptoms of vitamin B-12 Deficiency anemia?' you ask on Google and it lists several which even someone as medically-useless as yer actual Keith Telly Topping could easily recognise as belonging to him, personally. Weak muscles, numb or tingling feelings in hands and feet, decreased appetite, weight-loss, irritability, lack of energy or tiring easily, fatigue, diarrhoea, smooth and tender tongue - something Keith Telly Topping had/has but hadn't even thought enough about to mention in any of the various chats he'd had with medical staff thus far - and a fast heart rate. Yep, all perfectly present and completely correct (the irritability isn't new, incidentally, that's a permanent feature of Keith Telly Topping's life - you may have noticed). Keith Telly Topping was prescribed with a series of B-12 injections ('sharp scratch' noted the nurse administering the first ... to be followed by what Keith Telly Topping can only describe as 'like what Janet Leigh went through in the shower scene from Psycho') and, also, folic acid tablets. And, that was it for Thursday evening; they'd found the cause of much of Keith Telly Topping's current (and recent) medical woes, if not the entire cause and, much-less, the reason why it had suddenly appeared around Christmas time.
This blogger must confess, dear blog reader, that he was probably more relieved by the fact that they found something rather than what it was they actually found. For the past three months Keith Telly Topping been telling anyone he thought might be interested about how rubbish he was feeling and, frankly, no one seemed particularly interested and just wanted him to go away and bother someone else. There was, genuinely, a moment when this blogger thought he might end up with a gravestone containing similar sentiments to those of the late, great, Spike Milligan.
What followed was the second horrible night in a row experienced by Keith Telly Topping. He just could not find himself a comfortable place in his hospital bed from about midnight onwards as ruffled undersheets on a rubber mattress, getting woken up every three hours for more blood pressure checks and finger-prick blood-sugar tests occurred as did some seriously disturbing nightmares (at least one related to a camera going up Keith Telly Topping's rapidly-shrinking ringpiece). All of which made this blogger wake up in the early hours of Friday morning feeling far more irritable than, he believes, the compilers of that Internet list related to B-12 deficiency ever through was possible in a human being.
On Friday morning, Keith Telly Topping met yet another Doctor, Cameron (no, not the character from Doctor Finlay's Casebook) who was another model of efficiency. Except in one regard, but we'll come to that later in this already overlong bloggerisationism. This blogger noted his conversations with Consultant Sara and Doctor Alex the previous day and the general impression he'd been given that, whilst there were several aspects of the case which were still baffling to medical science, they'd gotten somewhere close to the bottom (ahem) of it. That new drugs would help and that a - future - series of outpatient visits to the RVI over the next few months would, hopefully, fill in most of the still-existing gaps. And that, a couple of further blood tests notwithstanding, Keith Telly Topping could go home. One - marginally amusing - sidenote; one of the things that brought Keith Telly Topping into hospital in the first place was diarrhoea. This blogger was, of course, required to provide a stool sample to the hospital which he did, in the early hours of Tuesday morning and which he poured into a stool sample container with the dignity of a far-from-sober man. What happened to that particular plastic bottle of dirty brown liquid is now completely lost in the midst of time and inner workings of RVI Newcastle. It simply disappeared ('this is horrible shit, go away and fetch us some nicer shit' was, perhaps, a not-at-all-unreasonable conclusion to the contents).
Anyway, at more or less exactly that point the Keith Telly Topping bowel-system suddenly decided not to co-operate any further - with anyone, not least Keith Telly Topping his very self. Four days on, this blogger remains as constipated as it is possible to be without someone ramming a sodding great cork up there; this despite a regular course of sodium ducosate being administered by the hospital, the resumption of, at least a taste of, solid food and, last but not least, you know, having things probed up there. When Doctor Cameron (not the character from Doctor Finlay's Casebook) mentioned that they'd like stool sample to add to their already massive collection (the fact they'd already had one and lost it, notwithstanding) this blogger did offer that if that was going to be a deal-breaker, they might be in for a long await. But, the need for this blogger to vacate his hospital bed was, seemingly, far more important a priority than the need for him to vacate his bowels and it was decided for that to be an issue for another day.
The blood tests were scattered throughout the rest of the morning and, by 2.30pm, Keith Telly Topping drew a visit from Pharmacist Molly suggesting that the hospital had been in touch with Keith Telly Topping's local medical centre, they were perfectly happy to administer the next few B-12 shots and that the addition of folic acid tablets to Keith Telly Topping's regular prescription was not going to be a problem. So, sorted, then. The peripheral venous catheter which had been inserted into the back of Keith Telly Topping's right hand and which had been feeding him occasional fluids and medication over the last few days was removed (to Keith Telly Topping's immense relief since, whilst not painful exactly, it had been a bit - that word again - irritating and dangly in its catheter-type malarkey). One final blood test was taken and the waits began. And, this blogger says 'waits' for the simple reason that there were, in fact, two of them. Firstly a bit of context, upon meeting Doctor Cameron (just to repeat not the Doctor Finlay's Casebook character), Keith Telly Topping explained that one aspect of the Telly Topping psyche is that Keith Telly Topping suffers from a - not massive and but frequently, very irritating - splash of OCD. You might have noticed, dear blog reader, From The North is full of examples. In Keith Telly Topping's world if he has ninety nine problems at any one time then he can only concentrate on one of them to such an extent that this one issue becomes, effectively, Keith Telly Topping's World. Until it is sorted, at which point he can, happily move on to 'I got ninety eight problems cos the first one ain't on Ze List any more.'
Keith Telly Topping's immediate problem at that exact moment was that, as he explained when he first entered to hospital he has, recently, been on Ze Sick, covered by what is - with laughing daftness - these days known as 'A Fit Note'; and that his current 'Fit Note' was due to run out over this coming weekend. Still not knowing at this stage if he would even be in a position to spend the weekend trying to track down someone at his own medical centre, much less someone who was going to be au fait with four days of the constantly shifting narrative on what, exactly, is up with yer actual Keith Telly Topping this blogger wondered, nicely, if there was any way someone at the hospital could issue him with a Fit Note. One covering, say, the next few weeks and which made clear Keith Topping Topping is, in addition to all of the rest of the things that are wrong with him, suffering from B-12 deficiency-related-anaemia, a serious - if not exactly deadly if treated correctly - condition (with other, as yet undiagnosed, related causes of which further outpatient tests were/are pending). Would it be possible, Doctor Cameron, Keith Telly Topping idly wondered, for you to do this for me? To Keith Telly Topping's immense relief Doctor Cameron (just to repeat not the Doctor Finlay's Casebook character) said, effectively, 'yeah, that won't be a problem.' As it turned out it was though only in so much as it then took Doctor Cameron (just to repeat definitely not the Doctor Finlay's Casebook character), until after 5pm to finally get around to it so that yer actual Keith Telly Topping could concentrate on worrying about other stuff. But, to be fair to the chap, he was/is a jolly busy man with, you know, actual proper sick people to attend to. Eventually (a word which no one with even a smidgen of OCD likes to hear), a successful outcome was, indeed, achieved. On that score, at least. Keith Telly Topping noted, that he would have hugged Doctor Cameron ... if he hadn't been wearing PPE at the time.
With regard to the other waiting issue, Keith Telly Topping had to wait for a final package of drugs to be delivered to him so that he could get his sorry - even though the camera stick had been removed - ass out of the gaff. And, so an afternoon and early evening of the least-enjoyable aspect of hospital life, clock-watching, began. Whilst Keith Telly Topping waited for someone up on the next floor in Pharmacy, to put together - in the end, a rather small and disappointing - bag of one box of folic acid tablets and those four future B-12 shots to his bedside. So he could then ring up his sister-in-law and impose upon the kindness-of-family to get a lift back to the cold, after five days of being empty, Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House. Something which both Our Maureen and Our Colin had assured Keith Telly Topping was not in the slightest bit a problem (because they're, you know, nice) but which this blogger was feeling more than a touch guilty about (because he's, frequently, not). So, Keith Telly Topping waited. And clock-watched. And clock-watched and waited. You get where I'm going with this?
Keith Telly Topping's time was not entirely misspent on Friday afternoon; he was still worrying about his Fit Note for much of this period - until he wasn't. He spent much of his time chatting with Nurses Lianne, Patricia, Alyson and Jacky. And, when he finally plucked up enough courage to walk down to the reception to administer that most British of things a Sergeant Wilson-style 'I'm terribly sorry to bother you but I've been waiting for five hours ...' when he really wanted to scream 'just what the fek is going on in Pharmacy? Have the tea-breaks been extended to All Day now, or what?') to Nurse Molly and Administrator Jacqui.
Keith Telly Topping also had the opportunity to witness the only displays of 'entertainment' he'd had since leaving The Assessment Suite, one chap apparently coming down from Very Hard Drugs deciding he was going to stage of jailbreak and leave (he failed, spectacularly). And another, seemingly very reasonable and affable but also apparently quite long-term resident, breaking down in floods of tears and getting all agitated, stroppy and discombobulated when told he was drinking too much coffee and tea for his own good and he was being rationed to a maximum daily limit of three cups. He was not a happy man. So, anyway, if on the off-chance that any of the Trust Directors of the Royal Victoria Infirmary in Newcastle Upon Tyne, England, The World happens to be reading this rambling diatribe of quite obscene proportions, the opinion of Keith Telly Topping (taxpayer) of your establishment is as follows: You run a World Class hospital, free-at-the-point-of-entry to everyone in way that in, say, America (you know, the people who think they own the world) simply would not exist. Your Doctors, Nurses, Auxiliaries, Trainees, Admin Staff and Specialists, are wonderful, caring, smart, helpful and talented people who will bend over backwards and then still go that extra mile to help the people who've been foisted upon them. It's true that, frequently, you could do with an entire patient transplant (this blogger with his ceaseless whinging about what are, ultimately, relatively minor matters very much included). But, all-in-all, his five day experience of Great Britain's much-vaunted and much-undervalued by scum politicians National Health Service could not be higher. Except, possibly, for your Pharmacy Department - they're a collective fucking disgrace and could do with a rocket being shoved up where that camera on a stick went in yer actual Keith Telly Topping's interior the day previously.
Serious point here; in 1966 a member of this blogger's favourite popular music act wrote a lyrics which stated (probably, with his trademark sarcastic bent aided by lots of - decidedly non-medicinal - drugs and regular bouts of giving his missus a Saturday night backhander) 'my friend works for the National Health'. This blogger endorses, entirely, Good Old Peace-Lovin' John's views on that particular matter (and many others, if not the whole 'Cold Turkey slipping down the charts' malarkey). And this blogger means that sincerely (whilst acknowledging that Good Old Peave-Lovin' John may not, necessarily, have).
Established by this blogger's favourite government in 1948, the National Health Service of Great Britain is a bloody little marvel, the envy of every civilised nation in the world (and America), the work of dedicated, wonderful, inspiring people. In a sentiment voiced on more than one occasion this week by this blogger to the people concerned, however much these ladies and gentlemen are getting paid for their work by Johnson and his squalid, sleazy gang of Tory thugs and criminals it isn't even remotely enough.
Anyway, finally - finally - the Pharmacy got their shit together, delivered the long-awaited package, this blogger was able to use the - freephone - facility to ring his family (a source of fairly regular entertainment during the previous four-and-a-bit days) and say, 'could you get me the Hell out of here, please?'Always add a please when people are doing you a big favour, dear blog reader, it saves so much hassle in the long-run. After five days in a hermetically-sealed and warm environment, this blogger found the cold 'hospital reception in the middle of the chilliest February on record with patches of snow on the ground' thing a bit depressing. But, once Our Colin Telly Topping had rocked up in his jam jar with a MP3 playlist sounding uncannily similar to the Hospital Radio this blogger had spent much of the previous five days listening to (lots of sixties and seventies), this blogger was back at The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House. Which was, as he'd expected, absolutely fekking freezing just in time to watch an episode of From The North favourite Qi XL and then crawl off, willingly, to his pit for his first uninterrupted, undisturbed by nightmares and shower scenes from Psycho, kip in a week. The two Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House hot water bottles certainly helped. 
So, that's where we are then, dear blog reader. Yer actual Keith Telly Topping is home, deficient in a significant number of red blood-cells and vitamin B-12 (and, possibly, lots of other things but those will do for the moment). But he's alive, feeling a bit - actually, more than a bit - better than he was on Monday, with sodding great bruises all over his hands and arms due to the various blood extractions. Also, with one of those little white plastic wristband things still attached to his arm; having re-read a couple of chapters of Mark Lewisohn's Tune-In - which he'd helpfully thought to pack into his overnight bag along with a change of underwear and a toothbrush - between listening to cross-ward cries of 'HELLO!'; with a precious bit of paper in his hand saying 'this is to certify that yer actual Keith Telly Topping is, like, Not Very Well so, if you could leave him alone for a bit whilst he tries to get his shit together, he'd really appreciate that'; somewhat housebound at The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House (a few future trips to the local medical centre and the RVI outpatients notwithstanding whilst Our Maureen Telly Topping kindly offered to go and get him some necessary perishable supplies ... and a decent pair of slippers). And with memories - of kindnesses shown (and pharmacy inefficiency - sorry, I just can't let this go!) which will last a lifetime. However long that is.
And so to the bottom line here, dear blog reader. From The North (established 2006, initially merely as a vehicle for Keith Telly Topping to ramble on about any old nonsense he felt like, something to which it has, admirably, succeeded) will be closing down for a while. Possibly permanently, Keith Telly Topping still hasn't decided on that score just yet. Time, having something even vaguely worthwhile to say (since when has that ever been an issue in the past, this blogger hears you ask? Fair point, actually) and future medical developments will tell. From The North may well be back in a few weeks - this blogger had made a tentative decision that this blog had more-or-less run its course on more than one occasion in the past only to have an Al Pacino-in-The Godfather Part III moment and get pulled back in again. Who knows? Only The Doctor. And, possibly, The Curator.
As it stands, this blogger is currently feeling - a little, lingering headache notwithstanding - better than he has for a fortnight, at least. So, as ever, all best wishes being sent his way (even if only psychically and in-passing) are always appreciated. But for the moment, dear blog reader, this is where it all ends; pretty much exactly where it all began in 2006, in A Mod's Odyssey. It's been emotional.

Once before, dear blog reader, this blogger grandly announced that - due to certain changes in his life at that time - you would likely be seeing a lot less of From The North in the immediate future; only for that situation to change within a couple of days. Over the weekend, this blogger explained - at some length - that recent-health-related circumstances had made him consider the future of From The North and that, for at least a short while, From The North was closing its doors and locking up. However, with chilling accuracy, it seems, this blogger noted 'From The North may well be back ... this blogger had made a tentative decision that this blog had more-or-less run its course on more than one occasion in the past only to have an Al Pacino-in-The Godfather Part III moment and get dragged back in again.'
You know, dear blog reader, when you write something and think 'yeah, that'll never happen'? However, this blogger simply couldn't leave From The North entirely behind without one further outpouring of thoughts. Firstly, the - quite superb - return of From The North favourite Peaky Blinders to the BBC on Sunday evening and, in particular, a couple of paragraphs from Stuart Jeffries'Grunaid Morning Star review – Tommy Shelby's Back Where We Want Him To Be: In All Kinds Of Trouble which deserve to be highlighted; 'I've mentioned Tommy Shelby's peerless silhouette, but you could cite Arthur Shelby who, even when off-his-nut on opiates, is quite the dandy, or Michael Shelby, who, though in Stateside chokey, wears collar and tie under his prison duds. Instead of Birmingham's customary civic self-laceration, writer Steven Knight has given the city swagger. I doff my cap.'
'More swaggering yet is Anya Taylor-Joy as Michael's spouse Gina,' he continued. 'There's a moment in this series opener in which Joy Division's 'Disorder' starts up on the soundtrack like a beautiful anachronism and she sashays down a corridor, heels clacking in time to Hooky's bassline. Moments later, we see her busting jazz moves to a dance band on the radiogram, with the same aplomb she gave us when cutting a rug to Cilla Black in Last Night In Soho. What we are witnessing here is the succession of the title of Peaky's Queen of Swagger from Helen McCrory's Aunt Polly to Taylor-Joy. McCrory's untimely death last year created a problem for Steven Knight. How do you write out the family matriarch? Here, Aunt Polly's corpse lies inside a burning Gypsy caravan while the Shelby men stand hatless. It's Birmingham's equivalent of a Viking funeral and, given her Romany blood, what Polly would have wanted.' As Stuart concludes: 'The show that has become, balti curries notwithstanding, Birmingham's leading export product. Given that the city's most distinctive contributions to world culture (Black Sabbath, Steel Pulse, Cadbury chocolate, HP sauce and Jack Grealish's calves) have broken up or sold themselves to foreign capital, every right-thinking Brummie is behind the looming Peaky movie that will, fingers crossed, prolong the franchise.'
Secondly, a necessarily reminder that, even if Keith Telly Topping survives his current brush with horrible mortality - and, indeed, even if the world manages to survive its currently brush with The Butcher Of Grozny deciding to flex his groin in public and play chicken with Kyiv, we still might not have much of a world worth this blog being around to comment upon if an IPCC report warning of the 'irreversible' impacts of global warming is to be believed (and, let's face it, why wouldn't it be? No, hang on, don't answer that - they are some ruddy strange people out there).
However the final words in this - temporary - From The North revival must, necessarily and deservedly, go to a member of Keith Telly Topping's family. In October 1966, the first record by The Be-Atles (a popular beat combo of the 1960s, you might've heard of them) which was ever bought for this blogger - for this third birthday - was bought by this blogger's brother's then sixteen-year-old girlfriend, Maureen. (This blogger still has it, if you're interested, in its original mint-green Parlophone sleeve. It's been played quite a few times, since 1966, though, so it's hardly in mint condition.)
Five years later, Maureen became this blogger's beloved sister-and-law and although she still, to this day, sometimes regards Keith Telly Topping as 'that little horror', she has, over the subsequent fifty years, become one of this blogger's best friends, most trusted confidantes and the person with the least time and patience for this blogger's occasional vainglorious, high-falutin schemes and pretentious twaddle. She tells it like it is, dear blog reader. She was the first person Keith Telly Topping called from hospital on Monday and was his regular contact during the following few bizarre days, calming his less lucid moments and always happy to share a joke and lighten some really dark moments. After Keith Telly Topping got out of The Joint, Maureen spent time and money on Saturday and Sunday, making sure this blogger was fed, watered and comfortable (providing perishables, some necessary new bedding for The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House pit and a completely cush new pair of slippers and a dressing gown for this blogger to replace his existing, somewhat threadbare examples). She did this selflessly and without being asked to, because she - like her husband and their two children, this blogger's nephew and niece - they are good people who value family and friendship. This blogger never says it anywhere near enough but he's going to say it now, in public. Our Maureen is a properly remarkable woman; a kind and considerate woman and, not for nothing, still the babe she was in 1970 during a Telly Topping family holiday on the Isle Of Wight.
The kindness of strangers, dear blog reader, is frequently commented upon and is, indeed, a jolly good thing. The kindness of family is less widely noted. But is, if anything, even more a thing of beauty.
Anyway, dear blog reader, as mentioned in the last From The North update, this blogger will be spending much of the next few weeks with his feet up in the Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House, trying to get himself better with occasional visits to the local medical centre to be stabbed in the arm with B-12 (the first of those is tomorrow). So, From The North is unlikely to be updated again any time soon; unless something genuinely world-shattering occurs (and, as we discovered when that was last said, back in 2019, that's a very dangerous thing to threaten). We now return you to a reflective period of - self-enforced and, in many ways, blissful - silence. Stay well, everyone, life's easier that way. Seriously. 

How terrific it was, dear blog reader, to hear a snatch of Lou Reed's 'Jesus' on the soundtrack of the opening episode of the final series of From The North favourite Killing Eve last Saturday. One of this blogger's favourite songs used to accompany a scene of genuine tension and drama. Of course, atypically, some slappable smears of no importance at the Gruniad, the Torygraph and the Indi continue to whinge about the series because it is, seemingly, no longer flavour-of-the-month with all the Middle Class hippy Communists in Fleet Street. Wankers.
And then, there was the use of Puccini's Nessun Dorma to accompany Cillian Murphy and Tom Hardy acting their little cotton socks off in one of the finest scenes in the latest episode of Peaky Blinders on Sunday. Mag-bloody-nificent. Plus, Amber Anderson as Diana Mitford-Mosley, James Frecheville as Jack Nelson and the return - after a week's absence - of the mighty 'Red Right Hand' on the end titles. Plus Anya Taylor-Joy, obviously.
This blogger was utterly horrified by the death of the cricketer Shane Warne from a heart-attack at the age of just fifty two late last week. If there ever was such a thing as a genuine, twenty-four carat sporting genius - and this blogger reckons such a conceit is not beyond the bounds of possibility - then Shane certainly fitted that bill. He was also, in his post-playing career, an inspirational coach, a man of great wit and charm, a perceptive commentator and, from the evidence of his many TV appearances, a decent, thoughtful, affable bloke. This blogger knows that Shane had three teenage children and he really hopes they realise just how much their father was admired and respected right across the world. As The Barmy Army used to regularly sing when he was fielding near the boundary, 'we only wish you were English!'

The news of Shane's passing was particularly sad coming, as it did, on the same day as another Australian cricket legend, Rodney Marsh, also left us and just a couple of days after the death of another spin bowler of unique and special talent, Trinidad and the West Indies'Sonny Ramadhin. It's time, this blogger believes, for Roy Harper's finest seven minutes and thirteen seconds in celebration of three lives well-lived and three old cricketers, the likes of which we may never see again, leaving the crease.
Anyway, dear blog reader, you're probably wondering how yer actual Keith Telly Topping is getting on after his recent, much discussed, health and welfare issues (which, seemingly, haven't finished this blog off quite as easily as it seemed they might, as this update proves)? Well, let's just say this this haiku pretty much sums up the current situation far better than a ten thousand-word blog update ever could. (With thanks to whomsoever posted it online in the first place.)
Yes, that. Or, to put it a slightly different way ... This -
This blogger has, in fact, had a lot of time to think about life over the last couple of months (and, specifically, last week and this week due to an enforced lack of energy to do pretty much anything else but sit in his chair an contemplate upon the inherent ludicrous nature of existence). And he's come to the following conclusions, dear dear readers: In general terms, you get out of life more-or-less what you put into it, so you should probably live every day as if it's your last. And, then, one day, you'll be right. There's far too much anger, meanness and spite in the world, most of the time and it's getting worse, daily. We are all to blame for this to a greater-or-lesser degree even if only by our inaction. This blogger has decided he is going to try to be less judgemental and more tolerant of the views of others in future - even if they are complete nutters (and, to be fair, they frequently are). He's going to try to be less concerned about things over which he has no control. He is going to try to be calmer, kinder and less stressed. He is going to try, in short, to be more in tune with the universe. But, since there is bugger-all chance of achieving any of that malarkey in The Real World, he'll have to do it in some form of Alternative Dimension instead. The brochure for this one looks quite nice.
There has, however, been one major change to this blogger's online activities since last From The North was updated; he's got himself back on social media. No, really. As many long-term dear blog readers will know, last June, this blogger's Facebook page was well-and-truly hacked. Keith Telly Topping will give those who did it some credit, they did a splendid job in completely stuffing-up this blogger's world right good-and-proper. Not only did they change this blogger's password but, also, his contact e-mail address (and, obliterated the old one). Meaning, not only couldn't this blogger access his page, he couldn't even get into Facebook at all to let anyone know what had happened. He tried everything to alert Facebook to his predicament including finding a couple of e-mail addresses online which were alleged to be for a Facebook'helpline'. Either they're not or, if they are, Facebook staff do not consider it necessary to actually do anything as ordinary as respond to e-mails from their customers; ironic, really, since this was all taking place around the very time that they were boasting to the media their profits had just passed a trillion bucks, annually. Doing so by providing shoddy-to-non-existent customer service, seemingly. Anyway, after about six weeks of increasingly desperate attempts to contact the company (this blogger even sent them a letter! To which he received no reply. True story) Keith Telly Topping finally gave up using the 'if they don't wanna talk to me, I'll be buggered if I want to talk to them' argument. This blogger missed the daily banter with his, many, dear Facebook fiends, obviously, but he still had this blog to work on as his main creative outlet. And, that was reaching plenty of you guys (and, at least some of his Facebook fiends, too).
Anyway, in the aftermath of those five days in hospital two weeks ago (when, being able to get onto Facebook to let people know what was actually going on would've been a jolly useful thing), this blogger decided - during a conversation over the weekend with his brilliant sister-in-law, Our Maureen - that it was about high time he got himself back onto Facebook in some form. The original Keith Telly Topping Facebook page is, seemingly, gone never to be seen again - fifteen years of memories, photos, shared experiences et cetera. All vanished into the never-never. But, screw it, out of sight out of mind. We start again, much like life. So, if you're coming to this blog via Facebook, this is where this blogger has been and what he's been doing - periodically - since last summer. One further important point, it's probably going to take Keith Telly Topping some time - perhaps months - to reconnect with even a fraction of the fifteen hundred people he had as Facebook Fiends prior to The Naughty Hacking Incident (particularly as he cannot access his previous home page for guidance). He spent his first couple of days back on the service, essentially just winging it and going through as many 'mutual fiends' lists as he could access! And, by the weekend, he'd managed to re-establish contact with over two hundred prior Facebook fiends and even gain one or two new ones. Nevertheless, he is bound to miss some people who used to be regular (or semi-regular) correspondents and he's hyper-aware that he doesn't want to upset or annoy anyone by forgetting about them. Please, therefore, be patient with this blogger if you are on Facebook and used to be in his address book but, currently, are not (particular as he's not very well at the moment!)

As for his Facebook cover photo, this blogger is using an image which will be familiar to readers of this blog. This was taken in the summer of 2008 at The Roman Army Museum (Carvoran) near Greenhead, Haltwhistle, part of The Vindolanda Trust and close to Hadrian's Wall and was snapped by this blogger's late mother. It has been suggested that it looks like a publicity shot for Keith Telly Topping very own TV series, Keith Telly Topping, Screen Detective, in which he blogs reviews of television series and solves crime. If anyone fancies make a pilot for such a franchise, this blogger applauds your ambition.
There's also been something of an image change for this blogger. Well, me mam always said Keith Telly Topping never suited a beard. This is, specifically, for Our Maureen who said she wouldn't be seen dead with this blogger out in public looking like that! Quite right, too. (And the darza new dressing gown and darza new slippers - out of shot - were, also, as previously mentioned, down to her as well.) This blogger should note that a) he'd just got out of the bath when the latter selfie was taken and b) he did a small amount of touching-up on photoshop on the colour. Keith Telly Topping is - still, and will be for some time, he is assured - considerably paler than these images may suggest.
It should be noted, however, that it's been far too long since this blogger has been able to say the following, as he was on Thursday evening - he really deserved this chow-mein and chips with gravy.
And, two night's later, how much did this blogger really deserve this here battered King Prawn with chips? Count the ways ... For anyone wondering, both were, in fact, geet lush. And, bear in mind, dear blog reader that, as previously mentioned, there were entire days, not very long ago either, where all that would pass Keith Telly Topping's lips at The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House all day might be a nice hot cup of sweet Joe and, maybe two or three Rich Tea biscuits, such was the effect that the B-12 Deficiency Anaemia was having on suppressing this blogger's appetite.
Early in the week, this blogger managed to get down to the local medical surgery for his fourth - of six - B-12 injections. 'Sharp scratch' claimed Sister Stephanie. This blogger had to tell her, as he told some of the nurses in the RVI, that whilst he is usually fine with, for example, the annual 'flu jab or any of the three COVID jabs he's been given, this one felt more like what Janet Leigh suffers in The Shower Scene from Psycho. Later, Sister Karen did give this blogger some good news, however - when Keith Telly Topping last had his Type-2 Diabetes check (last November), they did not take a blood sample due to, at the time, a shortage of blood containers within the NHS. This blogger began to offer his arm for her to take some now but, she said, one of the (several) blood tests taken whilst this blogger was in the RVI had been used for this purpose and the results had been spot-on (in the diabetes regard, at least). This blogger also had his weight taken - in November he'd been something like sixteen stone four pounds; on Tuesday, he was fourteen stone two pounds, the lowest weight this blogger has been since he was a teenager and a clear sign of the effects that the B-12 Deficiency-related weight-loss had caused. Mind you, dear blog reader, to be fair, this blogger could stand to lose some weight anyway, even if the circumstances of it in this particular case were not what he would've chosen himself.
On the bus home, whilst doing the Metro crossword - finished in nine minutes, fact fans - this blogger spotted the horoscope for Scorpio: 'Have dreamy feelings for someone' it began (frequently, but it's usually Anya Taylor-Joy, to be fair and this blogger is hardly alone there). 'If so, the Moon-Neptune link in you're romance zone can enhance this. It's an opportunity to share your feelings, knowing you will be understand. You may also push for something that's important to you and you could be persuasive.' These two sentences, dear blog reader, raised four important points in this blogger's crossword-enhanced brain. Firstly, Keith Telly Topping has a 'Romance Zone' which he was not previously aware (or, if he was, it's been inactive for so long he'd forgotten it was there). Next it can, seemingly, be influenced by some unexplained celestial connection between Earth's natural satellite and a planet four billion miles distant which wasn't even discovered until 1846. Nevertheless, thirdly, because of this happenstance, this blogger is, apparently, in with a genuine shot with Anya Taylor-Joy. World exclusive, there, dear blog reader. And, related to the final line, could anyone out there give this blogger a million quid. It's for me, if you're wondering. Thanks in advance.
Another, somewhat-related, postscript; you leave Facebook for eight months, come back and everyone's doing Wordle. What's that all about? As Keith Telly Topping believes all of the stand-up comedians ask when confronted with such discombobulation.
Saturday was a good day for this blogger. He'd slept rather badly (not unusual, of late) due in no small part to occasional overnight leg cramps (also not unusual - that's one of the regular symptoms of B-12 Deficiency Anaemia, apparently). So, he watched a recording of the previous night's Qi XL in bed - Victoria Coren Mitchell on outstanding form, Old Barrowman camping it up like a good'un and managing to keep his knob in his pants for once, what's not to love? This blogger then got up, had a steaming hot cup of sweet Joe and, for breakfast, some Cocoa Pops, using the last of the milk Our Maureen had bought the previous week. He listened to the previous day's Kermode & Mayo's Film Review podcast (The Batman sounds worthy of a punt judging from Mark's review). Then, he watched the latest episode of Discovery (excellent), had another steaming hot cup of sweet Joe and watched Picard (also excellent). In the afternoon, this blogger managed to make it to ALDI and back more-or-less in one piece, though his heart-rate was going like a Rick Buckler drum solo by the time he arrived back at The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House. This blogger is only, really, supposed to be going out to the medical centre and he's got his first out-patients appointment for the hospital, but that's not till the end of the month. Usually, if he needed any supplies he'd get the bus up to Byker and go to Morrisons but he wanted to try having a walk down to ALDI just the once to see if he could manage it. Which, it turned out he could, albeit, with some difficulty. That'll be a useful test in, say, three or four weeks time once the B-12 injections should, in theory, have started to get some of this blogger's strength back. Anyway, Keith Telly Topping picked up a nice looking chicken and sweetcorn pizza for us dinner, a carton of milk, some cereal and a few other bits and pieces and then, got back home to realise he'd only gone and forgotten to get any bread. Oh well, he can do without. And, in other news, g'yiddip Th' Toon!
The BBC is temporarily suspending its journalists' work in Russia, in response to a new law which threatens to jail anyone Russia deems to have spread 'fake' news about its armed forces. BBC Director-General Tim Davie said that the legislation 'appears to criminalise the process of independent journalism.' And, we're what, surprised by this? The Kremlin, seemingly, objects to the conflict being called 'a war', instead describing it as a 'special military operation.'BBC News in Russian will still be produced but from outside the country. Access to BBC websites had already been restricted in Russia. Foreign news outlets like Deutsche Welle, Meduza and Radio Liberty also had their services limited, Russia's state-owned news agency RIA said. For what it's worth, this blogger understands that From The Northis still available online in Russia and that we have approximately one hundred regular dear blog readers in the country. So, for you guys, a quick message - you may be aware of this already but if not, your country is currently involved in an extremely dubious 'special military operation' against a sovereign, independent neighbour, Ukraine. And, your leader, The Butcher Of Grozny, has got a really small penis. And, by 'really small', I mean Titchy. That is all.
Of course, it didn't take long for Britain to totally get our own back. The Russian-backed news channel RT has disappeared from all broadcast platforms in the UK. Access to the TV network, formerly called Russia Today, has been affected by a ban imposed by the European Union. Although the UK is no longer in the EU (you might have noticed - it was in all the papers and everything), the bloc applied sanctions to satellite companies in Luxembourg and France, which provided the RT feed to Sky, Freesat and Freeview. RT said 'the façade of free press in Europe has finally crumbled.' A bit rich coming from a company backed by a government which locks people up who disagree with The Kremlin but, there you go. The lack of culture secretary, The Vile & Odious Rascal Dorries, who has described the channel - not entirely inaccurately - as 'Putin's polluting propaganda machine', said she hoped it would not return to UK screens once this dreadful conflict is over. Again proving that even a broken clock can be right twice a day. 'As part of a concerted effort and discussions, Russia Today is no longer streamed into British homes, either by TV, Sky, Freesat or Freeview,' she told the House of Commons on Thursday. She failed to add anything about the tiny girth of Putin's shriveled man-pump, though she probably wanted to.

Streaming giant Netflix has announced it has 'paused' all future projects and acquisitions from Russia. The company said it was 'assessing' the impact of the current invasion of Ukraine. What's to 'assess'? A very big and powerful country led by a criminally insane madman (with a very small piece of stick) has invaded its neighbour simply because it wants to join the EU and NATO. Seems pretty straightforward to this blogger even though he's not an expert on international relations. Filming for the production of the Russian language series Zato will be halted forthwith. If not sooner. Elsewhere in the world of technology, cloud computing company Oracle also said it had suspended operations in Russia. The two companies are the latest US technology firms to take action against Russia as attacks on Ukraine's cities have escalated. On Tuesday, Apple announced that it was halting sales in Russia. It, too, failed to mention Mister Putin's Wee-Willy-Winkie in its statement. A minor oversight, one could suggest.
Sainsbury's, ALDI, ASDA, Morrisons and Waitrose have all announced they will axe Russian products amid the war in Ukraine. Though, not with an actual axe, that's a bit too aggressive for supermarkets. Sainsbury's will remove Russian Standard vodka and Karpayskiye black sunflower seeds from its shelves. 'Sainsbury's said it would also change the name of chicken Kiev to "chicken Kyiv" to match the Ukrainian spelling of the capital.' This blogger is not going to editorialise this one, dear blog reader, no way!
More than one hundred firefighters have been tackling a blaze at a mill complex used as a film location for hit TV shows such as Peaky Blinders and Downton Abbey. Fire crews were drafted in to tackle the inferno at Dalton Mills in Keighley. West Yorkshire Fire & Rescue Service said twenty pumps were called out. The service said the incident was being scaled back but some crews would remain overnight to 'damp down' the blaze. The following day, five people were extremely arrested over the suspected arson attack which gutted the mill.
There's one of their very occasional 'even a broken clock is right twice a day' actually quite good pieces in the Gruniad, an interview by George Bass with From The North favourite, Sir Tony Robinson, on the making of his first post-The Black Adder hit, Maid Marian & Her Merry Men. Check it out, here.
Another, 'my God, did some Middle Class hippy Communist quiche eater at the Gruniadreally write this' piece, Anne Billson's Count Draculas On Film – Ranked! is also worthy of you time, dear blog reader. At least she gets the number one right! (Jack Palance should've been higher in the list, though.)
Sadly, one of Chris Lee's most memorable co-stars, Veronica Carlson, died 27 February of natural causes at her home in Bluffton, South Carolina. She was seventy seven. Her death was announced on her official Facebook page. Born in Yorkshire, Veronica was a model when she began her acting career with uncredited or small roles in several 1967 films including Casino Royale, Smashing Time and The Magnificent Two. When producer and Hammer Films co-founder James Carreras saw a newspaper photo of Carlson wearing a bikini, he offered her the role opposite Lee in Dracula Has Risen From The Grave (1968), a movie which looms jolly large in this blogger's legend and would begin a journey which, one day, led to him writing a book about his favourite British horror movies (which is still available at this link, incidentally). Her performance as the vampire's intended victim was the first of her trio of popular Hammer movies and was followed in 1969 by Frankenstein Must Be Destroyed starring Peter Cushing and 1970's The Horror Of Frankenstein. Though her acting career would be sporadic thereafter, Veronica followed up her Hammer success with appearances in such 1970s monster movies as Vampira (1974) and The Ghoul (1975). British TV credits from the period include the 1972 thriller series Spyder's Web and 1975's Public Eye plus episodes of Department S, Randall & Hopkirk (Deceased) and The Saint.
Whilst this blogger is busy recommending articles which you should be reading, dear blog reader, allow him to point you in the direction of Roisin O'Connor's interview with From The North favourite Tony Visconti in the Independent, Spotify Is Disgusting - It Does Nothing To Support The Culture Of Music. Not only will the passion and brilliance of yer man Tone give you enough of a buzz to get through the day on adrenalin alone but the opening paragraph ('"I don't know why you guys don't vote Boris Johnson out," says Tony Visconti. "We got rid of Trump..." The accusation hangs heavy in the air. "What's your story?"') is worth its weight in comedy gold. Check it out, dear blog reader.
'Hey Paul', 'Yes David', 'Same colour jackets. What were the chances?''Cosmic.'
One of the biggest bands of the 1980s, Tears For Fears, a particular favourite of this blogger, returned to the chart on Friday with their first new studio CD in nearly two decades. The Tipping Point narrowly missed out on the number one spot, which was instead clinched by rapper Central Cee's latest mixtape, Twenty Three. Canadian skatepunk queen Avril Lavigne claimed third place with her seventh studio CD, Love Sux.
Meanwhile, another great group of the same vintage - and another great favourite of this blogger - The Cure have announced they, too, are about to release their first new material in a decade with not one but two new CDs scheduled for 2022. 'I know what [the first one is] called - Songs Of A Lost World' yer actual Robert Smith told the NME. 'It's got artwork, it's got a running order, it's almost done! They're so slow because of vinyl, but it might come in September. I'd rather it just came out. I can't stand the anticipation.' Asked about the sound of the upcoming records, Smith revealed: 'Well the first Cure album is relentless doom and gloom. It's the doomiest thing that we've ever done.' Why break the habit of a lifetime, Rob? Although, hang on - 'doomier' than, say, Pornography? This blogger might give that one a miss in that case.
Sir Paul McCartney, Kendrick Lamar, Sam Fender, Olivia Rodrigo, Foals and Wolf Alice will all play the Glastonbury Festival when it returns this summer. More than eighty acts have been added to the line-up, alongside previously-announced headliner Billie Eilish. Sir Paul will top the bill on the Pyramid Stage on Saturday 25 June, exactly one week after he turns eighty. He last played Glasto in 2004 - he was pretty damn good, actually - and was due to headline the 2020 festival before Covid forced organisers to cancel. 'When he finally confirmed, we were beyond [excited],' organiser Emily Eavis told the BBC. 'For us, having Paul McCartney is obviously a dream, a huge moment in our history.' Eavis also announced that proceeds from the event would go towards the Red Cross Ukraine appeal, as well as the festival's regular charities, WaterAid, Oxfam and Greenpeace. Other From The North favourites The Jesus & Mary Chain, The Pet Shop Boys, The Waterboys, Courtney Barnett, Jarvis Cocker, Haim, Herbie Hancock, Phoebe Bridgers, Skunk Anansie, Sleafod Mods, Supergrass and Primal Scream will also feature at the festival.
A discarded part of a rocket may well have crashed into the Moon's far side, say scientists. And, they usually know what they're talking about. The three-tonne rocket part had been tracked for a number of years, but its origin remain contested. At first, astronomers thought it may have belonged to Elon Musk's SpaceX firm and then claimed it was of Chinese origin - something which China flatly denies. And, indeed, is prepared to invade several small countries in pursuit of that denial. Probably. The effects of the impact on the Moon should have been relatively minor. The rocket stage would have dug out a small crater on the Moon's surface and created an 'uge plume of dust but that's about it. So, there's a new crater to be named by NASA on the Moon's surface which, let's face it, is never a particular chore for them. This blogger suggests 'King Prawn Curry With Egg Fried Rice' as one possible moniker being that it is, in this blogger's humble opinion, China's finest export apart from space hardware. You can have that one for free, NASA, don't say this blogger never gives you nowt. Scientists hope to get confirmation in the coming days, or weeks. The rocket part was first sighted from Earth in March 2015. A NASA-funded space survey in Arizona spotted it, but quickly lost interest when the object was shown not to be an asteroid capable of hitting Earth and destroying all life thereupon. The rocket part is what's known as 'space junk' - hardware discarded from missions or satellites without enough fuel or energy to return to Earth. Of course, it is important to remember that the Moon's far-side is called that, not The Dark Side. Because, as we were all taught at school, 'there is no dark side of the Moon ... as a matter of fact, it's all dark.'
The scale of a sprawling villa which housed one of the most important mosaics found in Britain in decades has been revealed. The Rutland mosaic was made public in November - but the size of the complex around it was previously only hinted at. Now ground-penetrating surveys have shown an area as large as five football pitches, boasting possible formal gardens, a bath house and mausoleum. Survey lead Doctor John Gater - yes, him off Time Team - said it was the largest site his team had covered. The mosaic was described by Historic England as 'one of the most remarkable and significant ... ever found in Britain' and by From The North favourite, presenter and academic Professor Alice Roberts as 'important and exceptional.' Rather than standard scenes of hunting or mythology, its panels illustrated an unusual version of a scene from The Trojan war, where the warrior Achilles ransoms the body of fallen enemy Hector. Dated to the Third and Fourth Century AD, the eleven by seven metre floor, while impressive, was only one time period in and one part of, the villa. Now a geophysical survey of the area has been released, showing a complex of structures worthy of such a centrepiece. One set of scans, which uses magnetic variations, showed the five hectare site was surrounded by ditches.
Unseen footage of convicted sex-offender Ghislaine Maxwell's late father, criminally corrupt fraudster Robert, filmed by staff on his boat just before his mysterious death, recordings of phones he bugged and a survivor of Jeffery Epstein's sick and sordid crimes who has never spoken publicly before are to be revealed in a new BBC documentary - one of the highlights of the corporation's biggest push of its factual shows for years. Launching the exploration of the Maxwell dynasty along with a slew of other programmes coming this year, including two David Attenborough-fronted series, Frozen Planet II and Dinosaurs: The Final Day, the BBC's factual, arts and classical music director, Fiona Campbell, claimed that 'no other broadcaster has such incredible breadth of factual content” from across the UK.' The line-up includes Andrew Flintoff setting up a cricket team in Preston in Freddie's First Eleven and All At Sea which follows British fishing trawlers. With the growth of the US streaming companies providing competition for talent and audiences, the ability of the BBC to shine a light on British stories can help to set it apart from its new rivals. One such series is The House Of Maxwell, which charts the rise and spectacular - if, highly amusing - fall of the media mogul's family. It features footage taken by staff on his boat in the days before his death. There are also secret, bugged recordings - ordered by Maxwell - of conversations his executives were having at the time about financial irregularities. In one exchange, which has been re-voiced by actors to protect identities, an executive says: 'I'm fucking furious ... I'm fucked if I know what he's done ... He's gone away on his boat, I'm still trying to track this bloody money down.' Good luck with that, mate. The BBC's head of documentaries, Clare Sillery, said producers obtained the recordings having used them for research about a previous Maxwell drama. They also obtained access to lawyers who investigated Ghislaine, plus 'a survivor of Epstein and Maxwell who's never spoken before who spent three years on the road with [them], spent time on the island in the Virgin Islands and her photographic record.' The producers have also approached the Maxwell family for interviews. Frozen Planet is returning after eleven years, using tiny new drone cameras that cause less disturbance to animals. Dinosaurs: The Final Day will be shown in tandem with the results of a dig in the US in April aiming to prove how dinosaurs were wiped out. The BBC is also making its most ambitious environmental series to date. Over seven years, Our Changing Planet - fronted by Ade Adepitan, Liz Bonnin and Chris Packham - will document six key habitats. In another first, the BBC's natural history unit has stayed on location for four years to track animals in Zambia for Kingdom. Other shows include Then Barbara Met Alan, a drama about the Disability Discrimination Act; Idris Elba's Fight Club; a David Olusoga series called Union; documentaries marking forty years of AIDs and The Falklands War anniversary and a series called Trouble At Top Shop. In addition, from April, every week BBC Four will broadcast Sunday Performance, featuring a performance such as The Play What I Wrote, starring Tom Hiddleston.
And finally, dear blog reader a small piece of From The North trivia. In the days immediately after this blogger alluded to the potential for this blog to be ending - either temporarily or permanently - the page hits on From The North suddenly occasioned a three-or-four-day period featuring some of this blog's most impressive daily hit-rate figures in over year. Clearly, this blogger should be threatening to shut this place down more often. And, on that bombshell ... 

Apparently, all the criticism which Russia is currently receiving - for, you know, invading Ukraine, murdering children and various other war crimes - is, reportedly, causing some extremely hurt feelings within The Kremlin. Pure dead irked by the very suggestion that they're not very nice, so they are. On Monday, the Russian government released a list of countries which it deemed 'unfriendly' towards Russia. Not surprisingly, the United States, the UK, Australia and Ukraine all made the list - one presumes they were all delighted by that as, let's face it, who needs a 'friend' like Russia? But many Twitter users - and, also, some people that actually matter - were said to be bemused, shocked (and, indeed, stunned) that tiny and apparently inoffensive nations like Liechtenstein, Montenegro and San Marino were also included on Ze Kremlin List. Sadly, From The North favourite The Federated States of Micronesia, seemingly, didn't make the cut. Must try harder, guys. You could start with this blogger's favourite tactic of questioning the size of Vladimir Putin's maleness; that should get you noticed by some of Putin's sick, psychotic thugs.
Extremely former US President Mister Rump - someone else with a very small penis - 'admired' Vladimir Putin's ability 'to kill anyone he wanted,'according to Rump's former White House press secretary, Stephanie Grisham. In an interview with the US talk show The View on Tuesday, Grisham discussed the former US president' relationship with The Butcher Of Grozny, stating: 'I think [Rump] feared [Putin]. I think he was afraid of him. I think that the man intimidated him. Because Putin is a scary man, frankly, I think he was afraid of him.' She added: 'I also think [Rump] admired him greatly. I think [Rump] wanted to be able to kill whoever spoke out against him. In my experience with him, he loved the dictators, he loved the people who could kill anyone, including the press.'
Russian speakers in the UK are reportedly being urged to phone 'ordinary citizens' in Russia to counter The Kremlin’s crass and laughable propaganda and the media blackout related to the war in Ukraine. Mind you, this is all according to some Middle Class hippy Communists of no importance at the Gruniad Morning Star so it might be some Corbyn-inspired double-bluff-type malarkey at work. You decide, dear blog reader. The Call Russia Initiative, launched on Tuesday, urges volunteers to cold-call Russians at random in order to 'challenge Putin's narrative about the invasion,' one conversation at a time. It uses a database of forty million phone numbers in Russia, which members of the Russian diaspora in the UK and elsewhere have already begun to call, in 'an ambitious non-violent campaign to help end the war.'
BBC News journalists in Russia have resumed their English-language broadcasts, days after putting their work on hold after the introduction of strict new media laws which threaten anyone deemed to have spread 'fake' news about Russia's armed forces with up to fifteen years in Ze Gulag. Numerous other Western news media also suspended their operations. The BBC decided to resume work after 'careful deliberation,' it said. A statement added: 'We have considered the implications of the new legislation alongside the urgent need to report from inside Russia. After careful deliberation we have decided to resume English language reporting from Russia this evening [Tuesday 8 March], after it was temporarily suspended at the end of last week. We will tell this crucial part of the story independently and impartially, adhering to the BBC's strict editorial standards. The safety of our staff in Russia remains our number one priority.'
Fiona Hill, a 'security expert' who served as senior director for European and Russian affairs on the National Security Council from 2017 to 2019 told NBC News that Putin is 'worried about his own position' and that he 'does not want to look weak.' Plus, you know, there's the whole 'very small penis' thing to throw into the mix. She added that the reason Putin was so intent on invading Ukraine in the first place are his fears that the West would use the country to 'tackle' his regime. And, to expose his well-titchy plonker. Probably.
The Premier League has suspended its broadcast deal with Russia. Which means that Russian fans of English football will no longer be able to - legally - watch any games, including those involving the Premier League's only Russian club, Moscow Chelski Frozen Assets. The move will take effect immediately, meaning Thursday's four Premier League matches were not shown in the country. The matter, reportedly, took only fifteen minutes of a four-hour meeting of all twenty Premiership clubs in London on Tuesday to agree. The English top flight also says that it will donate a million smackers to 'support the people of Ukraine.' Which, apparently, was some loose change that one of the Top Six 'found down the back of the sofa' and were at a loss to know what to do with other than, you know, the usual, buying lots of prawn sandwiches. The TV rights for the Premier League were owned by The Rambler Group. The company was in its final year of a three-year deal to broadcast matches in Russia. In a separate move, the Football Association has also suspended its deal with Russia. That means none of this month's FA Cup Quarter-Final matches will be shown in Russia, against, including Moscow Chelski Frozen Assets' tie with The Middlesbrough Smog Monsters. The Premier League says that it 'condemns' Russia's invasion of Ukraine (which you might have heard about - it was on The News and everything) and that its clubs 'unanimously' agreed the move. In the case of Moscow Chelski Frozen Assets, one or two people even believed them.
The owner of a record label has started pulling his company's releases out of the Russian market in response to the invasion of Ukraine. Revolver Records, started by Paul Birch more than forty years ago, has released records by The Stone Roses, Leo Sayer, The Scorpions, The Macc Lads and Jane's Addiction. The company is now deciding whether to stop all sales or to donate proceeds from sales in Russia to refugee charities. Birch, of Wolverhampton, has urged leading music moguls to do the same. 'Music generally leads the way when it comes to ethics, but in the Ukrainian war it's sports and not music leading the way,' he said. 'In fact, music seems to be lagging behind. Shouldn't more assets be seized, given the war in Ukraine and the government's proclamation on sanctions against those close to Vladimir Putin?' Well, this blogger is sure you'll all agree, dear blog reader, that's really gonna show The Butcher Of Grozny that he can't mess with The West. Particularly if he wants to replace any of his original UK Subs singles because he's scratched them whilst pogoing around The Kremlin to 'Warhead'.
Meanwhile, a Welsh orchestra has, reportedly, boycotted music by the Russian composer Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky in protest at the Ukraine invasion. Because, that's really going to piss off The Butcher Of Grozny, isn't it? A refusal by The Cardiff Philharmonic Orchestra to perform tunes by a gay outcast from mainstream Russian society who died in 1893. In a statement, the orchestra claimed it would be 'inappropriate at this time' to perform the composer's music. It had planned a Tchaikovsky concert at St David's Hall on 18 March. Shall we all leave it to the late Chuck Berry to, if you will, 'tell Tchaikovsky the news?'
Jane Wakefield of BBC News this week wrote a rather stretching-it-a-bit piece entitled Russia-Ukraine: Is Internet On Verge Of Break-Up? to which the most likely answer is, 'no, it's jolly useful as a tool for revealing, to all mankind, the microscopic nature of Vladimir Putin's todger.'
Moving, quickly, away from criminally psychotic, paranoid and not-even-remotely well-endowed mass-murdering bastard-dictators, there's a fascinating interview with Ray Davies on the Please Kill Me website (o, me neither). In which the former Kinks singer/songwriter 'waxes eloquent' about his brother, Dave, their mother and father, The Village Green Preservation Society, The Be-Atles (a popular beat combo of the 1960s, you might've heard of them) and Brian Epstein, Keith Richards, 'Madame' Jagger, Rod Stewart and The Queen Mother's teeth. Trust this blogger, it does all make sense. And, it features splashes of Ray's trademark wit which are worth the price of entry alone. The price of entry, incidentally, being free. Bargain.
And, speaking of The Be-Atles (a popular beat combo of the 1960s, you might've heard of them), The Empress pub in Toxteth is set to be 'transformed' into a Be-Atles-themed hotel, complete with a mural of Be-Atles drummer Yer Actual Ringo Starr on the side of the building. The pub, on High Park Street, is located close to the childhood home of Ringo. Joe McCarthy, one of the owners of Inservice Property Group, said that the plan is to make the upstairs of the building a hotel and downstairs into 'a Be-Atles-themed gift shop.' Because, of course, there aren't any of those in Liverpool already.
Meanwhile, here is the first in a new, semi-regular, From The North feature, Great Rock And/Or Roll-Related Adverts Of Our Time. Number one: Sony Hi-Fi Components.
Following the recent announcement of the release of new recordings by From The North favourites Tears For Fears and The Cure, the reunited Soft Cell - singer Marc Almond and instrumentalist Dave Ball - will also be releasing their first new CD in twenty years in May. But, before that, the duo announced this week that they have teamed-up with another particular From The North favourite, The Pet Shop Boys, to rework one of the songs on the new record. The first collaboration between the two acclaimed synthpop duos will be released 22 March in the form of 'Purple Zone', a song that will appear in a different form on Soft Cell's forthcoming reunion CD, Happiness Not Included, which is due out on 6 May. The duo also performed the song at their series of UK shows last November. The Soft Cell-written 'Purple Zone' has been turned into a duet with vocals by Almond and Neil Tennant, with produced by Ball and The Pet Shop Boys.
So, dear From The North bloggerisationisms reader, you're - perhaps - wondering about the on-going saga of yer actual Keith Telly Topping's much whinged-about health and well-being. Though, truth be told, this blogger is not so self-assured as to take such interest from you lot for granted. Nevertheless, he's going to tell you anyway, whether you want to hear it or not. When this blog was last updated, this blogger had just had four of his six B-12 injections designed to, at the very least, make him squeal like a girl when Sister Karen stuck the needle in his arm. Which, of course, he did. It was quite a sight. After the prickage, this blogger had a really nice and informative chat with Sister Karen about the full implications of the diagnosed anaemia. She said it was/is a jolly serious condition but, like diabetes (which, of course, this blogger also has), it can be controlled and medicated and at least we seem to have caught this quite early in the cycle. This blogger will be on a regime of B-12 booster shots about every three months probably for life. Sister Karen said that different anaemias have different causes, some are age, blood or iron-related but this one, which comes under the - really rather sinister-sounding - heading of 'Pernicious Anaemia' is usually more to do with either some previously undetected gastric problem (possible, in this blogger's case) or, more likely, are somehow diet-connected. The question of why it suddenly reared its ugly head sometime around the turn of this year remains, as yet, to be determined.
Since this blogger had purchased a Day Rider bus pass that day to attend the medical centre, he caught the Thirty Nine up to Morrisons, did some necessary shopping and, finished off the morning with - if Truman Captoe, Audrey Hepburn and Deep Blue Something will allow - Breakfast At Morrisons. Scrambled egg, a pork sausage, some buttered toast and hot pot of milky tea. Needless to say, he really deserved that. Though the egg was a bit rich for this blogger's tastes and he left some, he polished off the rest with relative ease - something which, a fortnight ago, he would have properly struggled with.
Since one or two people have asked - seemingly, they couldn't even be bothered to Google the subject - 'Pernicious Anaemia' is the cover-all category into which both B-12 Deficiency Anaemia and Folate Deficiency Anaemia fall (this blogger definitely has the former and, possibly, the latter too. Well, you know, why do things by half?!) It is classified as an autoimmune complaint. The symptoms of Pernicious Anemia may include extreme tiredness and fatigue (this blogger has got that), lethargy and a general lack of energy (got that), an occasional shortness of breath (got that), a rapid heart rate (got that), jaundice or pallor (got that, though it has improved a fraction over the last few days), tingling and numbness of hands and feet, including pins and needles (got that), a loss of appetite (had that, am recovering, slowly - see below), weight loss (had a significant shitload of that as mentioned previously), diarrhoea (had more than he wishes to go into of that), unsteadiness or dizziness when walking (got that), light-headedness (got that), feeling faint (had that once, so far), sore or sensitive tongue (got that), headaches (got that), nausea (haven't had that, thankfully), bleeding gums (haven't had that), impaired sense of smell (haven't had that), hearing sounds coming from inside the body rather than from an outside source (haven't had that), irritability (always have that, even before all this malarkey kicked-off), depression (ditto) and confusion (sorry, does this blogger know you?)
Two days later, this blogger received his last B-12 prickage until June. Like the previous five, it damn-well hurt like jimbuggery. This blogger mentioned to Sister Karen that, apart from a somewhat recovered appetite (see below) and a slight slackening in the explosive diarrhoea department, this blogger still feels pretty grotty (though nowhere near as grotty as he did the day he went into hospital and definitely not as grotty as those dead grotty shirts George Harrison is given to model in A Hard Day's Night). She said that will change - though no time-frame was offered or, indeed, asked for since this blogger is no believer in instant miracles. She added that Keith Telly Topping should just to be patient (or, indeed, a patient. For patience is a virtue, they reckon) and get some, much-needed, rest. This blogger has received his appointments for his next session with Doctor Nasir (Monday 28 March), his first out-patient visit to the RVI hospital for more tests (Tuesday 29 March) and his next diabetes eye-test (Wednesday 30 March). So, that's going to be a fun-filled, medically-charged week. This blogger is particularly looking forward to the last of these where they squirt nasty stingy stuff in ones eyes to make the pupils dilate and one feels just like Malcolm McDowell in A Clockwork Orange.
This blogger got home that Thursday feeling properly exhausted, though at least all the flowers outside The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House seemed to be in full bloom. That cheered this blogger up, enormously. It seems this rotten, sick-causing, bone-chilling winter in, finally, coming towards its inevitable end. Glad to see the back of it.
Speaking of this blogger's - marginally - increased appetite, dear blog reader, exactly how much do you reckon yer actual Keith Telly Topping really deserved this tasty bowl of garlic egg fried rice with chicken and sweetcorn soup? This blogger is going to venture 'quite a lot.' And, he'd be entirely correct in that assertion.
This old favourite - curry, boiled rice and chips - has been one which, due to the B-12 Deficiency suppressed appetite this blogger has been suffering from, he hasn't been able to enjoy for the last few months, at least. So, you can absolutely guarantee that he really deserved this. And he finished it. Just, about.
And, this Italian-style ham, mushroom and mascarpone flatbread pizza for us dinner at The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House on Thursday was a legacy of that day's trip back from the medical centre (and, his final prickage). Proving that even the nasty things in life can have unexpectedly nicer side-effects. Does this blogger need to inform you, dear blog reader, that it was, in fact, geet lush? Of course he doesn't.
This blogger has never been a big fan of evening food-shopping - ie. any time after 6pm, particularly on Saturdays - mainly because the shelves are usually virtually empty by that stage but, also, because of the absolute numpties one tends to get stuck behind in a queue who always seem to want to ague the toss about whether their two-months-out-of-date five-pence-off coupon is valid or not. But, a soon-to-be-lack of milk and bread at The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House forced this blogger to limp (slowly) down ALDI. It did prove to be worth it, though, if only for comedy value. Sure enough, as expected, this blogger found himself in a queue behind some chap with about six items, one of which was a six-pack of beer, the rest, seemingly, various items of fruit. A healthy balanced diet, no doubt. He was paying by credit or debit card but, for some reason, the ALDI computer didn't like it (probably, and this blogger is guessing here, a lack of funds in his account to pay for these items). So, after about four attempts, by which time the whole queue which had formed behind him was starting to get really pissed off, he dug into his pocket and pulled out what this blogger assumes was all the money he had in the world; about half-a-dozen pound coins and some loose change. The cost of his purchase was, of course, more than this - about seven quid. He looked at the beer, looked at the fruit and, sheepishly, pushed back a bunch of five bananas to the cashier. 'I won't bother with these' he said. Almost despite themselves, the entire queue started suppressing sniggers (this blogger, he is ashamed to say, very much included), though it didn't go unnoticed that no kind Samaritan offered to give him the fifty or seventy pee (or whatever) so he could keep his bananas to go with his beer. 'That was entertaining' this blogger told the cashier when it was his turn at the till. 'Happens every Saturday' he replied, wearily. 'He always hands back the bananas!'
From The North favourite(s) film critic Mark Kermode and radio presenter Simon Mayo are to leave their long-running Friday film review programme on Radio 5Live. The pair have presented the show on the network for twenty one years - and, before, that worked together on Radio 1 - but their last programme will be broadcast on Friday 1 April. It has not yet been announced who will replace them - though, whomsoever it is, this blogger will not be listening - nor whether the duo plan to take the format to another station. But Simon, who also presents a show on Greatest Hits Radio, indicated that the pair would return elsewhere. The Gruniad Morning Star (infamously, the only newspaper - apart from Fangoria - that Kermode claims to read) certainly seems to believe that'll be the case. So that, at least, in good news. 'After twenty one years (and as many drummers), the Flagship Film Show Wittertainment will make its final 5Live voyage on 1 April,' he tweeted. 'But, like [Spinal] Tap, we'll be back ... Stay tuned.' In an official statement, the pair made clear that the decision to leave was their own. Speaking on Friday's programme, Mayo added: 'We are way too expensive and there are better things for the BBC to be spending their money on.' Kermode will continue to present Screenshot alongside Ellen Jones on Radio 4 and his regular film review on the BBC News Channel. The BBC said 5Live Drive would move an hour earlier, to 4pm, following Kermode and Mayo's departure, with announcements on other schedule changes to 'follow in due course.' In recent weeks, Kermode & Mayo's Film Review has been slightly shorter, while the Drive programme has started earlier, to allow for coverage of Russia's invasion of Ukraine. Over the years, the film review show has curated a roster of guest hosts who deliver their verdicts on the week's new releases when Kermode and Mayo are on holiday. Recent stand-ins include the Torygraph's Robbie Collin, Radio 1's Ali Plumb, writer and critic Anna Bogutskaya, broadcaster Edith Bowman and actor Rufus Jones. None of whom can hold a candle to Mark and Simon and are, frankly, unlistenable - especially That Awful Bowman Woman with her shrill voice which makes this blogger want to do unspeakable things to his ears rather than listen to her. Simon also used to present a show on Radio 2, but exited the station in 2018 after a revamped drivetime show he co-hosted with Jo Whiley proved unpopular with - tone-deaf - listeners. He continued to co-host the weekly 5Live film show with Kermode after leaving Radio 2, but also took a new role with media giant Bauer, presenting shows on its classical station Scala Radio and the popular music station Greatest Hits Radio. Kermode & Mayo's Film Review, known to regular listeners as Wittertainment, developed a loyal following over two decades - including this blogger. In addition to its popularity on 5Live, the show also attracts a healthy audience to its extended podcasts. Radio 5Live's controller, Heidi Dawson, said: 'Mark and Simon's unique partnership has been an important part of BBC Radio 5Live for twenty one years. Their decision to end the programme is a sad moment; they will be much missed by our listeners and everyone at the station.' Kermode and Mayo's departure follows the exits of several high-profile BBC figures, many of whom are taking their programmes to the commercial sector. Emily Maitlis and Jon Sopel, presenters of another From The North favourite, Americast, have joined Global for a new show, while The Peter Crouch Podcast is moving from the BBC to podcast company Acast.
A guitar owned by a famous Jazz singer who became the BBC's first black star, is being auctioned. Adelaide Hall worked with artists such as Duke Ellington and was one of the first women of colour seen by BBC viewers after the Second World War. Wiltshire auctioneers Gardiner Houlgate expect her 1936 Martin acoustic tenor guitar, to sell for at least five grand. Auctioneer Luke Hobbs said the guitar is 'a direct link to the golden age of jazz. Her life sounds like the script for a film, beginning with the American jazz age, then a career in Paris before becoming one of Britain's most beloved entertainers,' he said. 'She shared bills with Frank Sinatra, Fats Waller, Cab Calloway, Tony Bennett and she sang at Harlem's Cotton Club.' In 1943, the BBC gave Hall her own radio show, Wrapped In Velvet, making her the first black artist to have a long-term contract with the corporation and one of Britain's highest-paid entertainers at the time. Hall, who died in 1993, was also the first black artist to perform in The Royal Variety Performance at London's Victoria Palace theatre in 1951. In addition to working with musician Joe Loss & His Orchestra, she was a guest on Parkinson in 1981. 'Hers is a remarkable story and this guitar was present for much of it,' Hobbs added.
A former Radio 1 DJ has been jailed for twelve years for arranging the sexual abuse of children in The Philippines. Mark Page, of Ingleby Barwick on Teesside, used a webcam to contact victims and travelled to the country. He claimed, unconvincingly, that his devices had been hacked but jurors at Teesside Crown Court weren't buying his bland excuses and found him extremely guilty of four offences on Wednesday. Judge Paul Watson QC said that Page 'targeted vulnerable children' and was 'the very embodiment of depravity.' Page - the self-styled Me-Mark Page - who had a show on Radio 1 in the 1980s and worked as Middlesbrough FC's stadium announcer for twenty years, was found very guilty of four charges of arranging the commission of a child sex offence. The divorced father-of-three was convicted of two counts of abuse by using a webcam linking his home to The Philippines in 2016 and two more of offences while visiting the country in 2016 and 2019. One of his victims, a then thirteen-year-old fatherless waitress who was the eldest of six children, has been traced and now lives in a place of safety, the court heard. The judge said that Page's offences 'involve the grotesque sexual abuse of young children for your own sexual gratification' as he imposed a life-long Sexual Harm Prevention Order on the former broadcaster. This blogger must admit, up-front, he has loathed the noxious Page for decades, an attitude which goes all the way back to the 1980s when Tyne-Tees Television chose to employ Page (as 'a popular local personality') on their early-evening magazine show Northern Life. Page had an intermittent singles review slot and displayed all of the taste and diplomacy of ... well, a future convicted sex-offender, frankly. This blogger remembers, in particular, one incident when the odious Page 'reviewed' The Smiths latest single (this blogger believes it might have been 'Shoplifters Of The World Unite') by tutting dismissively like he was The Sole Arbiter Of The Worth Of All Thing and then throwing the single across the studio like a Frisbee. What a vastly unamusing little man he was, dear blog reader. And now, he's doing a twelve-stretch for his naughty 'shirtlifters of the world' antics. Good. Upon hearing the news of his incarceration, this blogger has to confess he laughed. And, laughed and laughed and laughed until he stopped. And then he laughed some more. It is, of course, to be hoped that Page, as a convicted nonce, is placed in a secure unit so that, for example, no vengeance-seeking old lag could, for example, give him a jolly severe shivving in the shower block. Because that would be terrible (not to mention illegal and wrong). So, let him stew in his cell and contemplate the error of his ways (particularly chucking that Smiths single about on Northern Life like he was the funniest kiddie alive. Which, he wasn't). Enjoy your lack-of-freedom, Marky, you sick and wicked scumbag.
Bakery chain Greggs of Gosforth has warned that its prices could go up for a second time this year as it faces 'surging costs.' Christ, can things possibly get any worse - stotties are already eighty pence, how much do they think hungry Geordies can afford? Higher prices for food, energy and staff, plus tax changes mean the company's own costs will rise by between six and seven per cent the company claimed. The chain, known - outside of a thirty mile radius of its Tyneside home - for its sausage rolls and steak bakes (and, on Tyneside itself, for its magnificent ham-and-pease-pudding stotties), put prices up at the start of the year and it expects 'further changes' to be necessary. The UK cost of living is rising at the fastest pace for thirty years - you may have noticed, dear blog reader. Greggs said the cost of raw materials had gone up while energy prices are 'also soaring.' While it has locked in prices for some commodities ahead of time, the company said future costs remain 'uncertain.'Eighty pence for a stottie, dear blog reader. If it goes up to a quid, this blogger has eaten his last stottie sarnie and that's a fact, no matter how drop-dead gorgeous they are.
The death of former Newcastle United and Everton manager Gordon Lee was announced on Tuesday morning. He was eighty seven. A native of Staffordshire, Lee appeared as a full back for Hednesford Town and Aston Villa - with whom he won a League Cup winner's medal in 1961 - ending his playing career at Shrewsbury Town in 1967 and joining the coaching staff at Gay Meadow soon afterwards. His first managerial position came at Port Vale in 1968, achieving promotion to Division Three two years later before moving on to Blackburn Rovers in 1974. Achieving another promotion - from the Third Division to the Second - at Ewood Park, Lee was chosen as Joe Harvey's successor at Gallowgate in June 1975 - an appointment which failed to inspire players or supporters who had anticipated a higher profile arrival (witness Malcolm Macdonald's infamous 'Gordon who?' response when told by local journalist John Gibson who his new manager was). A 'no stars' policy at St James' Park reached its height when crowd-favourite Macdonald was controversially sold to Arsenal in 1976, but Lee was serenaded by Newcastle fans when his side overcame Spurs to reach the League Cup Final earlier that year, although they narrowly lost to Manchester City at Wembley. They also reached the FA Cup Sixth-Round in the same season. 'People keep on about stars and flair. As far as I'm concerned you find stars in the sky and flair at the bottom of your trousers,' Lee was once quoted as saying. Though he maintained a decent record on Tyneside, his functional, cautious and workmanlike approach to the game and the 'no stars' policy, particularly his decision to sell Supermac, made him unpopular with many supporters. Controversially leaving United for Everton in January 1977 to replace the sacked Billy Bingham - with The Magpies at the time a dizzying third place in the First Division - Lee also had a similarly awkward relationship with Everton's supporters. He remained at Goodison Park until his sacking in May 1981. Later taking charge of Preston North End, Gordon had a spell with Icelandic side KR Reykjavik before a coaching role at Leicester City. He lived in Lytham St Annes following his retirement.
The actress Lynda Baron, best known for her role as Nurse Gladys Emmanuel in BBC sitcom Open All Hours, has died at the age of eighty two. She also appeared in the children's show Come Outside and EastEnders. Her agent said her 'iconic roles' were 'loved by all generations', adding that she was 'a leading light of our world.' Baron was nominated for a BAFTA in 2011 for her role in The Road To Coronation Street, the acclaimed one-off drama about the early days of the soap in which she played the actress Violet Carson. In EastEnders, she was Linda Clarke, the mother of Jane Beale. She also appeared, twice, in Doctor Who (in 1983's Enlightenment and 2011's Closing Time, whilst her association with the BBC's popular, long-running family SF drama goes all the way back to 1966 when she recorded Tristram Cary's song 'The Ballad Of The Last Chance Saloon' for the William Hartnell serial The Gunfighters), Last Of The Summer Wine, Down To Earth, The Upper Hand, dinnerladies, Hammer's Hands Of The Ripper (in which she took one-in-the-eye in the name of socio-realism), Mrs Brown You've Got A Lovely Daughter, Can Heironymus Merkin Ever Forget Mercy Humppe & Find True Happiness? and Barbra Streisand's Yentl.
Early television roles included appearances in Crossroads, Up Pompeii, Oh No It's Selwyn Froggitt, A Roof Over My Head and Z-Cars. She appeared in BBC3 (1965), a series in the vein of That Was The Week That Was and alternated with Annie Ross as the resident singer on Not So Much a Programme, More A Way Of Life (1965). In 2020, she was in the film Dream Horse. She also featured in Woody Allen's 2006 romantic crime comedy Scoop and 2005's Colour Me Kubrick, about a man who posed as director Stanley Kubrick during production of Eyes Wide Shut. In 1962, Baron married hairdresser and music impresario Cyril Smith; they later divorced. In 1966, she married John Lee. The couple had two children and were married until his death in 2001.
This blogger urges all dear blog readers to check out Toby Hadoke's obituary for the actor Stewart Bevan (probably best known to dear blog readers as Professor Cliff Jones in The Green Death) in the Gruniad Morning Star this week. It is, as with all of Toby's work, thoughtful, sincere and worthy of your attention.
Whilst this blogger is busy recommending pieces in the Gruniad, Michael Hogan's 'Wow, There's A Lot Of Sex & Swearing': Channel Four's Top-Rated Drama Ever, Thirty Years On about The Camomile Lawn is also worth your time, dear blog reader.
Patrick Lenton's 'If The Apocalypse Comes, Beep Me!': Buffy The Vampire Slayer At Twenty Five - about the TV series which, quite literally, changed this blogger's life and gave him a new career - is also highly recommended. It's been this blogger's experience, when it comes to Buffy-related retrospectives (and, this week in particular, there've been plenty) that the writer either gets what Joss Whedon was trying to do with the series, or they don't and make assumptions based on their own, particular, agenda(s). Lenton, seemingly, gets it. Good for him.
Still on the subject on things recommended, this blogger suggests that any dear blog reader with a bit of time on their hands direct their Interweb browser in the direction of Baby Sea Clowns and check out From The North favourite Alice Levine's Radio 5Live six-part series Sport's Strangest Crimes. In which Nottingham native Alice investigates the bizarre-but-true story of the 2010 takeover of Notts County by the conman Russell King and all of the astounding malarkey which followed. It's quite a tale.
Also highly recommended from the same source are The Sound Of Peaky Blinders, a two-part series about the popular period gangster drama (and From The North favourite)'s spectacular use of music and an episode of the Headliners podcast focusing on the new CD by From The North favourite the Godlike Genius of Johnny Marr.
Letters, photos and a bag belonging to one of the Manchester United star killed in the Munich Air Disaster have sold for more than forty grand. Duncan Edwards and twenty two others were fatally injured when the plane carrying the United team crashed as it took off from the German airport in February 1958. Edwards' fiancée Molly Leech was at his bedside when he died and never parted with his belongings. Her daughters had put them up for sale following her death. The collection included Edwards' overnight bag which was pulled from the wreckage of the disaster, football programmes, letters to his fiancée and letters from well-wishers and photographs. Edwards' family album with photos from his Manchester United and England football career, as well as some from his national service, were bought by a UK-based private collector for twelve thousand four hundred smackers. A get well card from Manchester United teammate and Munich survivor Bobby Charlton to Molly sold for over ten thousand knicker and Edwards' overnight bag fetched six thousand eight hundred quid. A group of personal items and memorabilia linked to Molly's travel to Munich after the crash was bought by a collector for five thousand four hundred and fifty six smackers. Religious medals sent to Molly by well-wishers and a life insurance policy taken out by Edwards less than three months before his death were also sold. Edwards, who was born in Dudley in the West Midlands, already had eighteen caps for England and was tipped as a future captain of his country when he died at the age of just twenty one. He was part of the United team nicknamed The Busby Babes, a title which honoured both their youthful achievements and their legendary manager, Sir Matt Busby.
Scientists have found and filmed one of the greatest ever undiscovered shipwrecks one hundred and seven years after it sank. The Endurance, the lost vessel of Antarctic explorer Sir Ernest Shackleton, was found at the weekend at the bottom of The Weddell Sea. The ship was crushed by sea-ice and sank in 1915, forcing Shackleton and his men to make an astonishing escape on foot and in small boats. Video of the remains show Endurance to be in remarkable - albeit, somewhat soggy - condition. Even though it has been sitting in three kilometres of water for over a century, it looks just like it did on the November day it went down. Its timbers, although disrupted, are still very much together and the name - Endurance - is clearly visible on the stern. 'Without any exaggeration this is the finest wooden shipwreck I have ever seen - by far,' said marine archaeologist Mensun Bound, who is on the discovery expedition and has now fulfilled a dream ambition in his near fifty-year career. 'It is upright, well proud of the seabed, intact and in a brilliant state of preservation,' he told BBC News. The story of Shackleton's Imperial Trans-Antarctic Expedition is a truly remarkable one. It set out to make the first land-crossing of Antarctica, but had to abandon the quest when the expedition ship was trapped and then holed by sea-ice. From then on it was all about survival. Shackleton somehow managed to get all of his men to safety, an escape which saw the Anglo-Irish explorer himself take a small lifeboat across ferocious South Atlantic seas to get help.
A clearer picture of Scotland's largest Roman fort is expected to emerge after hi-tech geophysical surveys in The Borders. Which, no doubt, rather scared the locals who believed it was witchcraft. Some of the country's leading historical surveyors have descended on Trimontium, near Melrose, to use the very latest in ground penetrating radar. It is the first time the equipment, which was used recently at Stonehenge as well as at Viking ship burial sites in Norway, has been used at a Roman site in Scotland. A fort was first built by the invading Roman army at the site beneath the Eildon Hills in about 79AD when they marched into Southern Scotland looking, it must be said, really hard. It grew in size and importance to support a population of up to three thousand armed-to-the-teeth Centurions. Trimontium's fortunes, however, mirrored that of Rome's expansion North of Hadrian's Wall in the late First and early Second Centuries AD and the later retreat with the fort finally being deserted for good around 180AD. The fort was only rediscovered in 1846 during the construction of a nearby railway. Following several Twentieth Century archaeological explorations and surveys - particularly a major five-year dig between 1905 and 1910 - the size and significance of Trimontium has emerged. Experts believe that the latest survey on the scheduled site, which is conducted with permission from several heritage bodies, will lead to an even clearer picture of the fort being available for future studies. Among the key objectives of the surveys is to pinpoint the exact location of the bath-house and principia (the principal's building). The high-resolution images that the radar will produce could also lead to other discoveries. Geophysics expert James Adcock, who has worked on over eighty Time Team programmes, is excited by what will emerge. He said: 'It is very rare that we get onto sites of this status. Being able to tie everything onto one model is very important for us. Pinning down what has been done before, along with this cutting-edge technology survey, allows us to see Trimontium in a level of detail never experienced before.' A community aspect has been added to the surveys, with volunteers being trained in using geophysics and analysing the results.
Sam Ryder (no, me neither) will, reportedly, represent the United Kingdom at this year's Eurovision Song Contest in Turin. And, like as not, come last. He is, apparently, 'one of the UK's most followed singers on TikTok' (whatever that is), with twelve million fans on the app and will perform his song 'Space Man' at May's grand final. 'I love Eurovision. I think it's such a privilege to be able to do it,' he told Radio 1 Newsbeat. Last year's contest in Rotterdam was won by Italian rock group Måneskin. James Newman's entry for Britain, 'Embers' received the dreaded 'nul points' whilst Michael Rice also came last for Britain in 2019 with ballad 'Bigger Than Us'. Which, seemingly, it wasn't.
The director of Disney hit Encanto, Jared Bush, has invited a schoolgirl who wrote a letter to Disney asking them to create a character with spectacles to join him at the BAFTA film awards. Lowri, from Chilwell in Nottinghamshire, had written to Disney in 2019 asking for more characters that looked like her. Lowri previously said it was 'crazy' someone at Disney had not only seen her letter but actually acted upon its suggestion. The shocked - and stunned - twelve-year-old struggled to speak after receiving the invite and nodded vigorously before BBC Breakfast presenter Jon Kay stepped in and said: 'I think that is a yes.' It was all rather charming and certainly a decent alternative to the standard diet of news about, you know, murder, rape, war crimes and Moscow Chelski Frozen Assets fans whinging about the manifest unfairness of life. The awards ceremony itself take place on Sunday at London's Royal Albert Hall.
The newly re-established Hammer Studios has acquired the UK rights for B Good Picture Company's Doctor Jekyll. In November 2021, the UK's Network Distributing sealed a deal with the iconic British horror label Hammer Films to form Hammer Studios Ltd. Doctor Jekyll, directed by Joe Stephenson and currently shooting in Britain, will be the first film to be released by the newly formed studio. In the movie, a modern interpretation of Robert Louis Stevenson's 1886 novella The Strange Case of Doctor Jekyll & Mister Hyde, From The North favourite Eddie Izzard her very self plays Doctor Nina Jekyll, a recluse who finds friendship with her newly hired help, Rob, played by Scott Chambers and they must work together to prevent Jekyll's alter-ego, Hyde, from destroying her life. The screenplay is by first time writer Dan Kelly-Mulhern.
Interviews to select the new chair of Ofcom - a politically-appointed quango, elected by no one - are reportedly due to start next week after the government admitted it had finally 'exhausted' the hunt for potential candidates, almost two years after the process began. The search to replace Terry Burns at the telecoms, media and postal regulator started in early 2020 when Lord Burns announced he was to stand down and a successor was expected to be found by the end of that year, after the appointment of Melanie Dawes as Ofcom's new chief executive. However, the process has been dogged by delays after Boris Johnson's unsuccessful attempt to install that odious puddle of scum Paul Dacre to push a more sick right-wing agenda at the body. The former editor of the Daily Scum Mail unexpectedly failed the interview process the first time around. Because, no one likes him because he's scum. Ministers cleared the way for him to try again, only for the vile rascal Dacre to withdraw his application. The government had to abandon its cunning plan and restart the process and the 'partygate' investigator and Whitehall fixer Sue Gray was put in charge of the interview panel. On Monday Julian Knight, the chair of the digital, culture, media and sport committee - who has called the process 'a shambles' - said that the government had refused to tell him how many applications had been received and how many candidates were being considered for the shortlist. 'Another week, another new instalment of suspense in the ridiculous soap opera that is the race to become Ofcom's new chair,' he whinged to the Gruniad Morning Star. 'The committee is not after a behind-the-scenes commentary on the appointment process, but this latest cliffhanger from the DCMS department - which cannot or will not even tell us how many people have applied to audition for the starring role - does make you wonder whether we are heading for a happy ending.' In a letter of response, the permanent secretary at the DCMS, Sarah Healey, told Knight that the government 'did not want to increase speculation on the process' and aimed to 'minimise media speculation.' Which, given the amount of column inches that one statement generated, looks to have failed. 'We will not be providing a running commentary on candidate numbers,' she haughtily said, adding that this information would be made public 'as part of the successful candidate’s pre-appointment hearing.' The government's second run at appointing full-of-his-own-importance shit Dacre with a new-look interview panel came unstuck in December when he unexpectedly pulled out of the process, days later announcing he had taken a new role back at the publisher of the Daily Scum Mail. In January the government reopened applications again for a week, closing on 2 February and the former ITV, Channel Four and BBC executive Michael Grade said that he had thrown his 'hat in the ring.' On Monday Healey claimed the re-opening for one more round of applications was 'to make sure that all potential candidates had been given a chance to apply,' given the Christmas break and the recruitment advisers Saxton Bampfylde had 'done all possible outreach. We are now confident that we have exhausted all possible opportunities to ensure the breadth and diversity of the candidate pool,' she claimed. One or two people even believed her. 'The campaign is progressing to interviews over the coming week. And we hope to be able to announce a preferred candidate in the near future.' Knight said: 'Anyone who has been following this long drawn-out saga will know that feeling of exhaustion all too well.'
Rush To Recruit Police Officers Risks Hiring Racists & Criminals, Warns Watchdogaccording to a headline in the Gruniad. So, no change there, then.
The From The North Headline Of The Week award, however, goes to the Gloucestershire Live website for their utterly unbeatable 'I'm Off To Get My Pitchfork': The Full Story Of Gloucestershire's Near-Naked Attacker. Which has the bonus of being, no only a wee-in-yer-own-pants-funny headline but a fascinating, disturbing and, ultimately, wee-in-yer-own-pants-funny read, too.
Although, let it be noted, the Atlanta News Media website's Indiana Egg Farmer Transported To Hospital With A Live Adult Chicken Stuck In His Rectal Cavity gave Gloucestershire Live a jolly good run for their money.
As mentioned in the last From The North bloggerisationism update, in the days immediately after this blogger came out of hospital and whilst he was actively - and publicly - questioning the future of this blog for a few days the daily traffic on From The North fell through the floor. From a regular average of around three-to-four thousand daily hits, we dropped as low as one hundred and twenty on one day as many regular and semi-regular dear blog readers appeared to chalk From The North off their radar. Then, something very strange happened over that subsequent weekend; for no obvious reason, we got our audience back - and then, increased it. Over the last few days From The North has been getting well over five thousand page daily hits and, on Friday, we made six thousand. This is a definite example of 'I will not celebrate meaningless milestones', admittedly, but this blogger can't say he isn't touched that From The North's readership has, seemingly, spoken. It appears you guys want From The North around. Who is this blogger to argue with that?
And finally, dear blog readers, yer actual Keith Telly Topping's beloved (and now, thankfully, sellable) Magpies manager Eddie Howe says that Bruno Guimarães Rodriguez Moura is 'capable of the unexpected' after the Brazilian scored a spectacular winner on his full debut for Th' Toon to defeated Southampton and stretch The Magpies' unbeaten Premier League run to nine matches. Guimarães Rodriguez Moura, who was making his first start since joining the club from Lyon in January, sent a powerful back-heel volley into the roof of the net to earn the visitors a sixth victory in seven league games. 'I have to say, I haven't seen too much of that, back-heeling the ball in from that range,' Steady Eddie - fast, himself, becoming a highly respected figure on Tyneside - said afterwards. 'The goal was something we probably didn't expect from him but shows his technical ability. He is going to be an 'uge player for us.' The Saints had taken a twenty fifth-minute lead when Stuart Armstrong headed home Mohamed Elyounoussi's knock-back via a deflection off Dan Burn. But Newcastle, who were without both Allan Saint-Maximin and Joelinton on the South coast, equalised seven minutes later courtesy of Chris Wood's first goal for the club, the New Zealand striker - another January signing from relegation-haunted Burnley - powering Jonjo Shelvey's inswinging cross past the stranded Fraser Forster. Che Adams rattled the crossbar with a thunderous first-half volley and Martin Dubravka was the busier of the two goalkeepers late on, but Guimarães Rodriguez Moura's superb strike from Burn's cushioned header ultimately proved decisive. 'I thought it was "welcome to the Premier League" for Bruno - an end-to-end game, high in transitions and very physical,' added Howe. 'It will be a really good experience for him. He's a defensive midfielder, but a creative one. The reason we signed him was because we loved his way of playing, his eye for a pass and composure.' Newcastle were three points adrift from safety following a four-nil home defeat to Sheikh Yer Man City in late December, but are now in fourteenth place and ten points clear of third-bottom Burnley, a run which has led to Howe being named the Premier League's Manager Of The Month for February. They are also just four points away from Southampton, who slipped to only their second home defeat of the season. In the eight games since being knocked out of the FA Cup by Cambridge, The Magpies have won six (including victories over the likes of Leeds United, Everton and Brentford) and drawn the other two. They have the second best current form record in the Premier League behind only Liverpool.
Reluctant to destabilise a team which has yet to lose in the Premier League in 2022, Howe had exercised caution with Guimaraes prior to Thursday's visit to St Mary's, restricting the January signing to just forty one minutes across five cameo substitute appearances. The Brazil international was brought into the side in place of his in-form countryman Joelinton, who was ruled out with a groin problem but could recover in time to feature against Moscow Chelski Frozen Assets on Sunday. United were alsdo without long-term injury victims Kieran Trippier and Callum Wilson as well as Saint-Maximin. Operating next to Shelvey in central midfield, Guimarães Rodriguez Moura registered the game's first attempt on goal - a long-range drive that was blocked - and almost set up Joe Willock for a Magpies' second, late in the first half. But the twenty four-year-old's most important contribution came seven minutes after half-time, when he beat Forster with an outrageous back-heal flick that combined power, precision and sheer audacity. Understandably perhaps, Guimarães Rodriguez Moura somewhat an out of steam midway through the second-half but was given a rapturous reception by the travelling Newcastle fans when he was replaced by Sean Longstaff. Like Brighton & Hove Albinos at St James' Park on Saturday, The Saints enjoyed the majority of possession but failed to trouble Dubravka anywhere near enough until the latter stages of the contest. A Tino Livramento cross-shot almost caught out The Magpies goalkeeper as the game entered the final quarter of an hour, but the Slovakia international was able to prevent the ball from dipping underneath the crossbar. Dubravka was also called into action again from the resulting corner, denying fit-again Mohammed Salisu with a smart intervention, before producing arguably his best save of the match to stop another Salisu header from creeping in at the far post. Armstrong also had a dipping effort tipped over by Dubravka deep into stoppage time as Newcastle held out to take another huge step towards safety. Hopefully the identity of the two United scorers will have spectacularly irked mouthy Southampton boss Ralph Hasenhuttl, who had made some extremely inadvisable comments about new signings when this game was initially postponed - due to Covid - at the turn of the year. Obviously trying to make a similar point to the visiting supporters, the stadium DJ played a sequence of records with a financial theme, beginning with 'Dirty Cash'. This brought to mind an equally unfunny set of tunes featuring an optical theme played by Me-Mark Page at Middlesbrough in 2004 after the Newcastle training ground had been closed due to an outbreak of conjunctivitis. That, incidentally, was the very same Mark Page who was handed, on the same day as United's win at Southampton, a twelve year stretch in The Slammer for his sick and sordid child sex offences (see above) and who was, probably, at that very moment in the process of spending his first night in The Joint, slopping out. It's funny how things work out in the long-run, dear blog reader, is it not?