"It's The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year, Allegedly"

Welcome, you dearest bloggeriationism fiends all, to what is probably going to be (unless this blogger decides to write another one) the final From The North bloggerisationisms update for 2023. A year that was, as we say Oop North, 'a right-shite state of affairs' in oh, so many ways for oh so much of the time. Though, it did have one or two moments that weren't quite a monumentally 'orrible as most. There was sixty minutes on 25 November, for instance. And another hour on 2 December and sixty five minutes on 9 December. They were quite good. There was also the From The North Best and Worst Telly Of 2023 bloggerisationism, Keith Telly Topping quite enjoyed compiling that over a period of a couple of months. And this blogger had a jolly nice evening with relatives to celebrate his birthday. That's about it, really. If this blogger can remember any further examples, he'll be sure to let you all know before the end of this bloggerisationism update. But, to be honest, he's struggling to think of any.

Speaking of that nice evening with relatives, Keith Telly Topping will also be spending at least a part of Christmas Day this year doing exactly that. It will, for those taking notes, be the first time since 2011 that this blogger has enjoyed any human company on 25 December (something which, incidentally, was entirely his own choice and which he regrets not in the slightest). It will also be the first time he has visited a relative's gaff for dinner on 25 December since, he believes, 2001. And it will also be the first time since 23 April 2005 (and the broadcast of World War Three) that he hasn't watched a new Doctor Who episodes live, in The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House. The last occasion was when he was on holiday in Madeira. Fortunately, recording devices have been invented for just such an eventuality.

So, in preparation for the coming season of goodwill to some men and one or two dogs, firstly, this blogger got The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House Christmas decorations sorted for another year.

Then, this blogger arranged for the delivery of a bottle of Bailey's and a big tin of sweeties so that he would be able to blissfully collapse into a diabetic coma by Boxing Day and avoid the final few days of the year.

Totally worth it, if you ask this blogger. At least, until he needs to get one of his feet amputated, obviously. Then, it becomes one of those things in life which one bitterly regrets. A bit like the decision to buy anything The Police released after Reggatta De Blanc. Very like that, in fact. Quality Street®™ really ought to use that as one of their advertising slogans. 'Eat chocolates until you forget how shite Sting became after 1979.' 

Ultimately, of course, it was time to invite a couple of old fiends around to The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House to celebrate the holidays.

We promptly settled down to watch ITV4's traditional showing of Where Eagles Dare. Because, as previously noted (many times) on this blog, nothing says Christmas like Clint and Dicky mowing down half the Wehrmacht whilst only sustaining one, minor, hand injury between the two of them.

Then Ms Santa rocked up. Which was nice.

This blogger was particularly pleased with one of the presents that he was gifted this year. Especially as he already had the previous twenty one volumes in the set.

Sadly, dear blog reader, it wasn't all fun and frivolity at The Stately Telly Topping Manor; there was, for instance, one awful evening where the worst of the Twenty First Century threatened to naff-right-up all the good-spirit which December had seen this blogger's general demeanour thus far occupy. And, inevitably, it came about through the endeavours of the good old Interweb. This blogger's big mistake, which he now recognises fully, was to venture onto a Facebook thread in which someone that this blogger knows (in fact, several someones) were talking, very positively, about the recent trio of Doctor Who episodes. The ones covered in the most recent From The North update which this blogger, also, thought were - collectively and individually - great. Of course, this being Doctor Who fandom, it didn't take very long to find some contrary views on offer. Because, there's a 'y' in the day. Not just normal 'I didn't like them too much, myself,' stuff which is entirely fine (wrong, let it be noted, but still fine). But, rather ... well, the kind of monobrow'd, scummish waste-of-space nonsense that you'd expect from those sort of people. You know the ones this blogger means. Of course you do. Take, for example, some bloke who may (or may not) have been called The Tarrant (he could, admittedly, have been a character from a Terry Nation six-parter. Perhaps we'll never care). 'I've stopped watching due to the dreadful woke agenda of the current showrunner in his casting choices' suggested this, no doubt perfect specimen of humanity at its finest. This blogger really should have left it alone but, just at that particular moment, he didn't feel like giving one of those sort of people a free pass to be an arsehole in public and get away with it. 'Sorry, I have to clarify exactly what part of the casting of Ncuti Gatwa you consider to be "woke"' this blogger began, gurning horribly at having to use the hateful, agenda-soaked 'w' word - the last refuge of the morally bankrupt. 'Is it because he's black? In which case, you're a racist moron. Is it because he's gay? In which case, you're a homophobic moron? Is it because he's black and gay? In which case, you're a racist and a homophobic moron. Or, is it because you don't think he's a very good actor? In which case, you're just a moron.' This blogger then invited this worthless puddle of noxious phlegm to provide (using graphs if necessary) an explanation for exactly which sick and ugly prejudice it was that he was suffering from and inflicting upon the information superhighway. Mercifully, this blogger did not receive any form of reply from this louse - is it too much to hope that he was so ashamed by having to confront his own bigotry that he was rendered, temporarily, mute by the process? Personally, this blogger doubts it because those sort of disgraceful, sick cretins appears to have no concept of shame. However, this blogger did get one reply, from someone who may (or may not) be called The Horn (admittedly, that could be the pseudonym which this chap uses when appearing in examples of softcore moistness). The Horn claimed that this blogger had demonstrated an uncomfortable intolerance towards someone criticising a casting decision and suggested that this blogger - rather than the odious clown who'd made the comments in the first place - was an example of 'everything that is wrong with the Internet.' Au contraire (that's yer actual French, that is), this blogger countered, Keith Telly Topping did not question the criticism of a casting decision; rather, he questioned the criticism of an, allegedly, 'woke' casting decision. This blogger then repeated that he still wished to know exactly what constituted this alleged 'wokeness' and invited The Horn to reply on behalf of The Tarrant if the latter was unable or unwilling, as it appeared, to stomach the job. Keith Telly Topping added that this blogger has his own opinions on the subject of 'everything that is wrong with the Interweb' and they do not, necessarily, agree with those of The Horn. Then, after waiting for a few hours and getting no further curt lip from either of these waste-of-oxygen plonkers, this blogger took the entirely satisfactory decision to dump the pair of them into his Facebook block-file along with all of the other stinking turds. A fate which they share, incidentally, with all bigots and all apologists for bigots. It was, nevertheless, a sad little incident which left a really sour and nasty taste in the mouth for some time afterwards, dear blog reader. But, a jolly useful reminder of something we have discussed on this blog on previous occasions. There are some good people in the world, dear blog readers. There are some rotten, horrible people. Most of us fall into neither category; we're just somewhere in the middle trying to get through life as quietly as possible without getting snarled at by crass, ignorant meatheads. Then, dear blog reader, there are some people who are just, simply, scum. And, sadly, many of them have access to a keyboard and a wireless connection. That, if you were wondering dear blog reader, is what this blogger considers to be 'everything that is wrong with the Interweb.' Glad to have been able to clear up the confusion.

This blogger is sure that Big Rusty himself would have something charming and witty to say on the subject. Quite apart from telling The Tarrant and The Horn to, the pair of them, get a new brains; because the ones they have are narrow and full of shit.

From The North: Slapping down with great vengeance examples of shitty bigotry and crass intolerance (both within and outside Doctor Who fandom) since 2006. It's what we do.

There was a significant arrival at The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House this very week just in time for Garry Crimble to put the trace of a smile back onto Keith Telly Topping's ugly mush. A positive book of positive reviews of Doctor Who stories written by positive Doctor Who fans (well, that'll never catch on). Guaranteed not to feature anything whatsoever by the likes of The Tarrant or The Horn or any of their ilk (there's a Dave Gorman joke in there if anyone wishes to idly wonder when The Tarrant or The Horn first got their pet elks). If you call yourselves one or several Doctor Who fans and you haven't already purchased a copy of this brilliant book from those lovely people at ATP Publishing, then you're just not cutting it, frankly. That's what Keith Telly Topping reckons, anyway. Buy one today and tell 'em this blogger sent you.

A warning, however: This book may contain traces of Keith Telly Topping at his most quasi-academic, egregious and passively introspective. In fact, not may, it does. Just so you know in advance.

Having waited at The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House all Wednesday morning for that to arrive, dear blog reader, this blogger was then able to limp down to the bus stop and go to Byker to get the Christmas weekly shopping in. On the way home, there was some woman on the bus telling whomsoever she was on the phone to that she was 'having a fuggin' nervous breakdown, here' and, seemingly, extremely keen to let the whole bus (and beyond) know about it, too. This blogger almost suggested that she should say it a bit louder as, Keith Telly Topping believed, there were one or two people in Sunderland who didn't quite catch it.

To somewhat happier Doctor Who news and, on the Monday after the broadcast of The Giggle, this blogger did another down-the-line piece for BBC Newcastle about the episode and the forthcoming Ncuti Christmas with the very lovely Emma Millan and the every-bit-as-lovely Nick Roberts. This is getting to be somewhat habit-forming. In case anybody wishes to have a listen to this blogger being rather inarticulate and gushing about The Giggle, David, Ncuti, Neil Patrick Harris (questionable German accent notwithstanding) and Russell you can check out the episode of BBC Sounds here. It will be available until around 10 January. This blogger is on approximately one hour and forty minutes into the episode - Keith Telly Topping features immediately after Olivia Rodrigo. Warning: This radio broadcast, in addition to including numerous traces of Keith Telly Topping, also includes goblins singing! You can't say your weren't warned.

Oi! You've got my pants.

For the first time in six years, Doctor Who is part of BBC1's Christmas Day line-up. You may have heard about it. And, there's a new Doctor taking control of the TARDIS. You may have noticed that, too. Those sort of people certainly did. And, they're not happy about it, seemingly. Ncuti Gatwa's Doctor has already been seen in action, when he appeared earlier this month in the final special featuring David Tennant's tenure. But the Christmas Day special, The Church Of Ruby Street, is Ncuti's first full episode, an occasion when the BBC expects millions to sit down with their families to watch and enjoy. Except for this blogger, obviously, as - like as not - he will be sitting down with his family to watch whatever's on ITV at the time and then watching the episode when he gets back home. It is not surprising that Ncuti, who has been filming his first series for most of this year and is currently working on a second, has spent a lot of that time feeling anxious about the weight of expectation. 'It's daunting taking on a role with a lot of history, which is where my anxiety has come from. Because you want to do a good job, because the show lives in people's hearts,' he told the BBC. 'Rightfully so, because it's a magical show. And it is our show, it is a British show. It's part of our family. And you don't want to let the family down. And so, yeah, I was very nervous to keep this beloved sacred thing beloved and sacred.' Ncuti, who made his name as one of the stars of Netflix hit Sex Education, was announced as the new Doctor in May 2022 and began filming this February. He says that the anxiety, not helped by such a long build-up, has never really gone away. 'From the moment I wake up, to the moment I go to bed, it's anxiety,' he claims. 'But, people tell me that it means that I care. And I do, I love the show massively. It is also hard. It's a hard role. It's a prestigious role, which means that it is complex and difficult. And I'm just trying to do my best. Hopefully I've done that. But, you're anxious to do a good job.' All this is said with a huge smile and is interspersed with laughter - giving the clear impression that he isn't letting these feelings diminish how much he's been enjoying playing an alien exploring time and space. And, like his predecessors (well, most of them anyway), he has brought something different to the role. Early in the Christmas special, he is seen dancing and whirling on a nightclub dancefloor, filled with euphoria and excitement. It has been suggested that, among the new elements he's brought to this incarnation of The Doctor, incredible passion, energy and perhaps a youthful sexiness are amongst them. 'Do I?' he wonders. 'Cool! I think we've all been sexy in our own way. I think I've just tried to bring energy and fun.' There is certainly an abundance of that in the story, which sees The Doctor and his new companion, Ruby Sunday (played by the extremely photogenic Millie Gibson) take on a shipload of singing and dancing goblins. 'We are bringing a little musical flair to this Christmas special,' Nctui suggests. More seriously, it's inevitable that his casting as the first black actor to take on the show's lead role will be seen as symbolic. Particularly those sort of people who aren't a big fan of 'woke' and want everyone to know it. 'I think it means that we're here and we're not going anywhere,' Ncuti says. 'I mean, Doctor Who is a show that kind of reflects where Britain is at, in a way, because it's so quintessentially British. It's been on our screens for so long, it's a bit of a mirror to where we are in society. So I think it's showing that we're here and we're part of the cultural landscape. And we're not going anywhere.' That sound you hear, dear blog reader, is the sound of those sort of people grinding their teeth and muttering, darkly, about ... stuff. Ncuti was born in Rwanda in 1992, during the country's civil war. His family fled to the UK when he was two and he grew up first in Edinburgh, then in Dunfermline. It is something that, he says, has helped him relate to a character who shares a sense of displacement. 'I think at many times in my life I have felt like an alien,' he says. 'A kid like me growing up in Scotland - there's been many times I felt like an alien and so I feel like I get it. It's always a joy to get a character like that in which you're able to draw on elements of your own life, your own upbringing and deliver them through the character, because fundamentally it just comes out more truthfully.' His first full series will be broadcast in 2024 (probably from around Easter although that hasn't yet been confirmed). What can Ncuti tell fans about what might be coming up? 'I can't,' he laughs. 'Please don't get me in trouble now. I'm so bad with spoilers. Don't do this to me!' But he is more willing to reflect on his experience so far of playing such a well-known role. 'How I felt playing it was, yes, joyous and triumphant and [I] just loved it. Quite simply loved it.' The Church On Ruby Road is on BBC1 on Christmas Day. This blogger believes it's going to be great.

Meanwhile, the BBC have released a series of new publicity shots from The Church On Ruby Road including this one with Millie at the speed of sound rocking that classic Linda McCartney-Wings Over The World Tour-pose. Can you do the solo from 'Live & Let Die' next, Millie, love.

On 25 October 2022, the BBC announced that, for the 2023 Specials and the series beyond, they would be joining forces with Disney Branded Television 'to transform Doctor Who into a global franchise by bringing the series to Disney+. Under a shared creative vision' that will 'deliver this quintessentially British show to future generations on an unprecedented scale.' From November 2023, the BBC will provide new episodes of Doctor Who to the UK and Ireland. Elsewhere in the world, new episodes will be distributed by and premiere on Disney+. 'It's glorious,' Russell Davies told DWM. 'It's worth saying that, to begin with, the entire impetus for that was from the BBC. It was their next future for Doctor Who. That was decided before any of us came on board.' 'It was always needed - how do you make a show like this, in 2022, without that co-producing partner?' Julie Gardner added. 'But it wasn't a shoo-in, because the market is really complicated and cut-throat. You know, I felt frightened: "Are we going to find someone? How do we do this?" There were a lot of things to work through.' 'That's where we had the support of the BBC, actually,' Big Rusty clarified. 'The BBC backed Doctor Who before anyone, a streamer, had been signed up. That's what drew us in ' the BBC's commitment to making this series come Hell or high water.' 'Our task was to find a partner who understood both the particularity of Doctor Who, but also how that particularity could resonate across the world - and how to do that without ruining the particularity,' added Jane Tranter. 'Disney+, they were the best in class.' The executive producers explained how this collaboration between the BBC and Disney won't cause Doctor Who to lose its individuality, Britishness, or magic. 'Russell's vision is very, very clear and it's very British and it's everything [DWM] readers will want it to be,' Gardner explained. 'The BBC own Doctor Who and the huge strength of Doctor Who for Disney+ is the title, having a known brand,' Gardner added. 'Having that commitment from the BBC in terms of UK funding - that's all very appealing. [At] Bad Wolf, what we understand the show to be and [why] we're here [is] to serve Russell's vision. Disney is marvellous. They care about the show and they love Russell's vision. It's a proper working relationship, but their hearts and souls are true.' 'Bad Wolf is so internationally renowned now,' Phil Collinson added. 'If any production company is going to embody the spirit of the expansion of this brand and everything Russell wants to bring to it, it is Bad Wolf. The fearless way they've arrived in this industry and taken it by storm is amazing. So Doctor Who couldn't be in a better place.' Big Rusty revealed in the same interview that a Disney+ executive who toured the one hundred and twenty five thousand square feet of space at Wolf Studios was 'properly gobsmacked' by it. 'I know people are, naturally, worried about American producers having notes on things,' Davies continued. 'Don't be. They're giving excellent notes. And I'm here to tell you, you haven't watched a drama on British television in twenty years that hasn't had American notes on it. Everything is a co-production. Watch the credits. All your favourite dramas have American co-producers.' Some examples of notes from Disney were given in the interview. 'They sent us a note on Episode One [of Ncuti's first series] that said, "That opening isn't as much fun as the other episodes," Rusty revealed. 'It was a great note. So I've written a new opening.' 'An expensive new opening,' Collinson added. 'And it's broken everyone's backs,' Rusty continued. 'But it's absolutely worth doing.' The producers also sought to debunk a press story, first reported by Broadcast, which claimed that the budget for each episode could triple to as much as ten million knicker. 'That has been exaggerated,' Big Rusty claimed. 'If that was the budget, I'd be speaking to you from my base on The Moon. That is not the budget and I worry that misinformation like that creates false expectation. Nonetheless, we have a lovely, handsome budget and we're very happy with how we're proceeding with it.' 'It's a really good budget for us,' added Tranter. 'But we are not Game Of Thrones, or The Rings Of Power.' 'I still spend seventy five per cent of my day in meetings, trying to work out how many monsters we can afford and how we can make it look like we've got twice as many, how we can revamp that set and re-use it, how do we take these massive, ambitious, brilliant, gorgeous scripts and make them absolutely the best we possibly can for the money we've got,' Collinson continued. 'Which is what Verity Lambert was doing in 1963. It's always been a show that reaches beyond its means and pushes every creative person.'

Doctor Who is back, bigger than ever before. RTS Cymru Wales was first off the mark, hosting a premiere for The Star Beast in Cardiff two days before the show returned to the BBC. It was also sixty years to the day since the Time Lord first appeared on TV. Of course, he wasn't 'the Time Lord' then, just an old man in a box (as this blogger is certain, anti-'woke' dongs like those sort of people will be keen to point out). A roar rose from a sold-out audience at the conclusion of The Star Beast, which saw David Tennant and Catherine Tate return after almost fifteen years. Also back, as showrunner, was a visibly moved Russell Davies. 'It's been two years working on this. I'm properly proud of it,' he said. 'It's vast, this isn't just a television programme arriving, there's a whole empire of work and imagination, diligence and insight.' As well as the Saturday-evening TV show, there is a behind-the-scenes companion show, Doctor Who: Unleashed, a Doctor Who podcast and in-vision commentary from yer man Tennant on BBC iPlayer. 'Russell was really clear right from the start that, if we were going to come back then we were going to come back and do something that was as big as it could possibly be,' recalled Jane Tranter. 'These days, if you're doing a big franchise show you don't just watch the television programme, there's masses of other stuff to look at, too.' In 2003, when she was Controller of Drama Commissioning at BBC TV, Tranter asked Big Rusty to revive the show, which had been rested by the corporation in 1989. Now, as CEO of Cardiff indie Bad Wolf, she makes Doctor Who. Steffan Powell (no, me neither), the host of both Doctor Who: Unleashed and the Q&A following the premiere of The Star Beast, asked Davies: 'Are you having fun?' A bloody stupid question, frankly, but Big Rusty answered it in the only way possible. 'Oh, God, yes. I wouldn't do it if it wasn't fun. It's enormous fun,' he replied. 'A lot of dramas are about people being murdered in alleyways; this is a lot more fun than that. There's a lot of pride in it, there's a Welsh pride, but there's a family pride as well - and you know you're working on something that is going to put a smile on people's faces that intergenerational span is a very rare phenomenon.' Doctor Who has given the Welsh economy an egging 'uge boost - according to a recent BBC report, worth over one hundred and thirty four million smackers over a couple of decades, as well as creating hundreds of jobs and acting as a catalyst for huge growth in the nation's creative sector. 'I was always behind bringing it here,' said Davies. 'I can remember when I was young, out playing in the street and my dad would be standing in the door going, "Come and see, [Swansea actress] Margaret John's on the television", because she was in an episode of Z-Cars. It was so rare to see a Welsh person on the television. That whole visibility thing is vital.' Looking back almost two decades to the revived Doctor Who, with Christopher Eccleston in the title role, Davies said: 'When we arrived in 2005, there wasn't that much science fiction on - in fact, we kind of paved the way, especially for British science fiction. I've watched Stranger Things and all the Marvel shows and Star Wars getting acclaim and I love those shows, but I thought Doctor Who is as good as those. I think it's better than those, to be honest.' The very British Doctor Who, as noted, will now be available beyond these shores on Disney+, the new global home for the popular, long-running family SF drama outside the UK and Ireland. 'I don't think that something needs to be international to have international appeal; actually, I think something just needs to be good and it needs to have the opportunity to be seen,' said Tranter. 'Doctor Who has always been good, actually it's been more than good - it's been bloody brilliant - but it hasn't always had an [international] platform. Eventually, in May, when Disney+ really gets behind it, it will be taken all over the world. There will never be a time and there will never be a budget that means that, when Russell slips the script on to the table in front of us, we don't go, "Whooa - how are we going to do that? [But the Disney deal] does mean that we have a better chance of running to keep up with him. It's a significant difference.' But Davies underplayed the difference with previous series: 'It's different, but it's not that different - you could imagine that David and Catherine would've run around the streets; The Meep would have been a man in furry skin, or something, but we would've made it in the old days. It really is the same show.' As ever with Davies's Doctor Who, there is more to it than running away from monsters. The Star Beast features a transgender storyline and actor, Yasmin Finney (much to the chagrin of certain 'woke'-hating bigots, let us never forget for a second). 'It keeps you young, frankly, trying to write what the world is now,' said Davies. 'I feel that very much as a gay man, actually; one of the things that drives me mad and I'm also really glad of, is that, whenever you get an election or some fuss in the news, someone will bring up homosexuality, or rules about gayness or things we're allowed to do. Suddenly, we have to defend ourselves. But, although that's terrible, I think at least it keeps me in tune with what's going on. I kind of think that progressive politics keeps you open to the state of the world.'

Russell also enthused about Doctor Who and Bad Wolf's role in training TV's next generation. 'We've come back, not with just a show, but with a whole raft of opportunities to get into the [profession],' he said. 'This show will run and run. It is an open door to make the creativity of this country be seen all over the world.' Two trainees – working on Doctor Who thanks to Screen Alliance Wales – talked about how they landed work on the show. Screen Alliance Wales, a not-for-profit organisation based at Wolf Studios, develops talent for TV and film in Wales. 'I stumbled upon it; I didn’t know how to get into TV,' admitted director's assistant Abdoul Ceesay. He had been working as a supporting artist. 'One day, one of my friends told me about Screen Alliance Wales and how that was the best way to get into the industry. The job came up for a director's assistant and I applied for it.' He was offered an interview, so Abdoul immediately sought out the director's assistant where he was working for some pointers. His quick-thinking worked and he landed the job. Persistence paid off for scenic artist Luke Smith. He went to a Screen Alliance Wales 'foot-in-the-door day' in Newport. 'I took my portfolio - and a model Dalek as well,' he recalled. Amazingly, that didn't get him chucked out of the building on general principle! Luke was given the e-mail address of a contact at Screen Alliance Wales and 'proceeded to email [her] for five months, every week, asking to come and do work experience. I finally got into prop fabrication, which was a different department from where I'm working now and they gave me one week of work experience. Two days into that, I talked myself into a second week and then, one day after that, they asked to keep me on paid.'

Russell Davies told Helena Bonham Carter to turn down A Doctor Who role according to a piece of absolute nothing bollocks in the Radio Times (which used to be run by adults). This breathless 'exclusive' was based, seemingly, on a couple of throwaway comments the pair made whilst guest-hosting an episode of Radio 2's Jo Whiley Show. Should you wish to read this arrant crap masquerading as journalism, dear blog reader, you can find it here. But don't say you weren't warned.

Doctor Who Christmas specials are linked to lower death rates in the coming year, experts have suggested. As reported - somewhat sceptically, one feels - by the Daily Torygraph. In the Christmas edition of the British Medical Journal, a study ('light-hearted' according to the Torygraph although there's nothing in the original piece to suggest that) found that in years when an episode of the BBC's popular long-running family SF drama was shown on Christmas Day there were around six fewer deaths than expected for every ten thousand people over the next twelve months. That's, obviously, not excluding anti-'woke' ranters and apologists for anti-'woke' ranters, who often find their heads exploding at around 5.30pm on Christmas Day. They're quite a sight as you might imagine. For the era between 2005 and 2017, which saw David Tennant, Matt Smith, Peter Capaldi and Jodie Whittaker playing The Doctor (you were aware of that, dear blog reader?), there were seven fewer deaths than expected for every ten thousand members of the public. Albeit, government advice that people shouldn't put money in their Christmas puddings that they might choke on like they used to could, also, have contributed to this lower figure. Daleks fatalities, on the other hand, rose exponentially in the episodes which featured them. Curious, that. The team from the University of Birmingham said that 'watching a doctor who is caring for people' could encourage others to seek help for their own medical concerns. And this, dear blog reader, constitutes 'news', apparently. Some of us, of course, have always known Doctor Who makes you feel better. Unless you're one of those sort of people, of course. In which case, not so much.

This week has also seen the publication of a very enjoyable interview which Millie Gibson gave to the Royal Television Society which you can read, here.

Whilst another interview with Ncuti appeared in the latest Empire, here. In which he reveals the one piece of advice given to him by his predecessor-but-one in The TARDIS, 'embrace the madness!'

Russell Davies reveals that a key set-piece of Ncuti Gatwa's first series will see an 'uge battle taking place in Abbey Road during The Be-Atles' rise to fame. They were a popular beat combo of the 1960s, you might've heard of them. Very popular with Young People, apparently. They were recently toppermost of the poppermost. While Ncuti's first Doctor Who seasonal special will be broadcast in a few days, Davies gave a tour of Bad Wolf Studios in Wales when speaking with Alan Yentob for BBC1's Imagine ... Russell T Davies: The Doctor & Me, revealing a set under construction for the series' Be-Atles episode. Davies stated the large set would be a recreation of Abbey Road's Studio 1, where a chaotic fight would ensue. 'This is Abbey Road in 1963. It's very unbuilt at the moment. This is going to be Studio 1 at Abbey Road - the big studio, the orchestral studio. It has to be said, there’s a great big battle in here to save the universe, with people being flung all over the place and a moving piano.' There are several further revelations about the episode which you can read here. But, in the interest of not being whinged at for publishing spoilers, this blogger isn't going to tell you what they are. You'll have to go looking for them yourselves, dear blog reader. Of course, most Doctor Who fans have been well-aware that the coming series would be including an episode set in 1960s London somewhere in the vicinity of Abbey Road since last May when they were filming it. This blog certainly did. Other aspects of the Imagine ... documentary - which, again, may contain some spoilers, so approach with caution - can be read in a rather fine piece on the Collider website.

Another fascination article which this blogger wishes to draw to dear blog reader's attention is in Adweek (not a publication usually featured on From The North, admittedly). Stephen Lepitak's The Marketing Of Doctor Who Is About To Enter A Whole New Dimension is well worth a few moments of your time.

'I woke up this morning and discovered that everything in my apartment had been stolen and replaced with an exact replica ... I told my roommate, "Isn't this amazing? Everything in the apartment has been stolen and replaced with an exact replica." He said, "Do I know you?"'

And now for a new (somewhat arbitrary) From The North feature, dear blog readers: How Memory Has Cheated This Blogger. Example number one. For all of you dearest blog fiends who bought a copy of A Vault Of Horror (still available from those gorgeous people at Telos Publishing, if you haven't already got a copy, what's been stopping you?) you may recall that this blogger mentioned in the introduction to the book that his own baptism into the world of British horror movies was watching Dracula Has Risen From The Grave on Tyne Tees Television in a generic slot called Appointment With Fear one Friday night around, this blogger believed, November 1975.

The problem was, this blogger - despite extensive research into the matter - was never able to pin down the exact date of the film being shown. Recently however, purely by accident this blogger stumbled across it whilst looking for something else entirely and was shocked (and stunned) to discover that he'd been looking in completely the wrong year. It was, actually, Friday 18 October 1974, meaning that rather than being twelve when Keith Telly Topping watched it, as he believed (and as he stated, boldly, in the introduction to an acclaimed and award-winning book on British Horror Movies), he was actually still a week away from his eleventh birthday. What the Hell this blogger's parents were thinking, letting a ten year old watch that (even on a Friday night with no school the next day) is anyone's guess.

Additionally, it means that this blogger's late mother and father bought Keith Telly Topping the fourteen-inch black-and-white portable telly he had in his bedroom at The (former) Stately Telly Topping Manor for a year long than he had previously thought (you could always spot it, dear blog reader, it had a big white arrow pointing at it). Served this blogger so well, that little telly did. It was still working fine when this blogger's mother died in 2013 (when, sadly, it went to the great old telly dumping ground in the sky).

This blogger also recently stumbled across a really nice review of A Vault Of Horror on You Tube from an incredibly perceptive chap with, clearly, impeccable taste called Alan. Who, seemingly, enjoyed it very much. It makes such a change from being called 'shithead' in many of the reviews this blogger usually gets!

Interesting point about the generic title Appointment With Fear. This blogger's excellent fiend Young Malcolm has already done quite a bit of research on this (some of it previously featured on this blog) and it appears that it was used by several different ITV regions at different times as a title for their Friday night horror movie strand; Granada appear to have been the first, starting in late 1971. Others followed, ATV Midlands for example, were using it in 1973. Thames had a different strand title for a while - that rather unimaginative The X Film - but, by 1977, they were using Appointment With Fear as well.

Young Malcolm notes that up to 1968, ITV had only ever played a handful of horror and/or SF movies. Then, Leslie Halliwell, ITV's film buyer at the time, made a deal with Universal Pictures for a package of twenty, mostly, horror movies made or owned by the studio; thirteen of these were Universal's own, from Dracula (1931) to House Of Dracula (1945), plus seven newer Hammer productions, from The Brides Of Dracula (1960) to The Evil Of Frankenstein (1964). This, reportedly, cost ITV, a remarkably cheap sixty thousand knicker for a licence period of seven years, to May 1976. With this deal, horror movies effectively became a regular staple of ITV's schedules on a region-by-region basis over the course of the following two years. Thames TV started at 10.30pm on Monday 6 January 1969 with a season titled The X Film with the Stanley Baker gangster movie The Criminal (1960). The first horror shown was Hammer's The Man Who Could Cheat Death (1959) screened a week later. This was followed by Granada and Border in September of the same year with a season called Famous Monsters. In the same month, Anglia TV started The Horror Film (so nobody could do them under the Trades Descriptions Act). In January 1970, Tyne-Tees unveiled Monster Movies. Grampian, Westward and Channel TV followed Anglia's lead with The Horror Film. Various generic titles were used thereafter - from the rather mundane, The Late Movie (ATV) to the more apt, Movie Macabre (Ulster) and Scottish TV's Don't Watch Alone. From 9 July 1971, LWT went with Nightmare - The Friday Horror Film, starting with the 1931 Bela Lugosi Dracula. HTV in Wales appears to have been the only ITV company not to run a horror film season at all during the early 1970s. So, if you were Welsh and liked horror movies, you were out of luck. In Autumn 1971, Leslie Halliwell, for Granada, programmed a late night season of horrors and, recalling the BBC Home Service's Valentine Dyall radio thriller series from the 1940's, decided to use Appointment With Fear. This would become the default title for horror movie seasons on the station. ATV would follow suit in 1973 then, in due course, Scottish, Tyne-Tees (from September 1974), Yorkshire, Westward and Channel - mostly, 10.30pm on a Friday. From what this blogger has been able to gleam, it appears that Thames were one of the last regions who used Appointment With Fear as their strand title to actually start using it - this blogger can't find any record of them using it pre-1977. Certainly as late as 1975, they were still using The X Film. Other regions, as noted, had a variety of different titles and some showed these movies on different days - for example, this blogger's fiend Andrew informs Keith Telly Topping that Grampian in the late 1970s were showing horror movies on both Tuesdays and Fridays.

'That's nearly as mad as that thing you told me about the loaves and the fishes, Ted.' 'No, Dougal, that's not mad. That's when Our Lord got one or two bits of food and turned it into a whole pile of food and everyone had it for dinner.' 'God, he was fantastic, wasn't he?' 'Ah, he was brilliant!'

From The North favourite Slow Horses continues to just get better and better in its, currently, third series. There are highly readable articles on the series and its latest episode in The Atlantic, Vulture, the Gruniad Morning Star and Empire. Seriously, dear blog reader, if you haven't caught this regular gem in From The North's 2022 and 2023 'Best Of' lists, do yourself a favour - find some and watch it.

And now, the From The North Twelve Films Of Christmas. In which yer actual Keith Telly Topping watches twelve random (reasonably recent) movies on each wet and cold December afternoon because he can't be bothered to do anything else and so that you don't have to. Number Two: Review in a short poem:-
'Agatha Christie's plots
were quite twisty.
And seldom had nookie
though some were well-spooky.'

Number Three: Review in thirty words or less: 'Contains depictions of smoking ... And, also, lots of Nazi's getting shot. But, these days, we're less bothered about the latter!'

Number Four: Review in thirty words or less: 'In which Primal Scream save the planet from aliens. God, rock and/or roll music, dear blog fiends. Is there anything it can't achieve?'

Number Five: Review in thirty words or less: Some real stories are so unbelievable they make films of them. Twice. One of them featuring From The North favourite Hello To Jason Isaacs. 

Number Six: Review in thirty words or less: 'I sense that death is close at hand.' 'It's probably just a draft!'

Number Seven: Review in thirty words or less: The movie that was so funny it was banned in Russia.

Number Eight: Review in thirty words or less: 'Q: Why is Oppenheimer like a roll of Andrex®™? A: Because it's tough, strong and very, very long.' (If you said 'because it's good for wiping the winnets off yer sphincter' then that is the incorrect answer. Trust Keith Telly Topping on this one.) Another review in another thirty words or less: 'I loved the two stars of your movie, Mister Nolan.' 'Who, Cillian Murphy and Robert Downey Junior?' 'No, Florence Pugh's tits.'

Number Nine: Review in thirty words or less: Dong. It is important to remember that, whilst fixing a hole in the ocean, 'inbreathiate' in not an actual word. And, that 'the guitar Paul wrote ['Blackbird'] on' was, most certainly, not right-handed. What! Is! Reality?!

Number Ten: Review in thirty words or less: 'Glory! Glory! And, indeed, bastard-halley-effing-loool-yah! Thangyveymusssh.'

Number Eleven: Review in thirty words or less: 'Any movie that ends with a song and dance routine to The Love Affair's 'Everlasting Love' needs no other justification. Perfect.'

In other, somewhat-related, Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House pre-Christmas TV viewing, good heavens but A Warning To The Curious (the BBC's 1972 A Ghost Story For Christmas, a strand which is currently being repeated on Talking Pictures TV) is still absolutely bloody terrifying, even fifty (one) years after it was first shown. That said, it's no The Signalman (itself being repeated on New Year's Eve this blogger understands).

In the last From The North bloggerisationism update, this blogger mentioned his recent (thoroughly enjoyable) lunch with Young Malcolm in early December. And, our lengthy - and, one feels, productive - debate about the relative merits of The Gold Robbers, Doctor Who, The Champions and other vitally important matters which we men discuss when setting the world to rights. One of the other series that both of us had been watching and enjoying of late was TPTV's current Sunday-night repeat of Manhunt. A World War II drama series consisting of twenty six episodes and produced by London Weekend in 1969, it was broadcast across the ITV network from 2 January 1970. And, remarkably, given that he was only about six years old at the time this blogger has extremely clear memories of watching at least one episode of the series; and, particular, one sequence towards the end of that episode, What Did You Do In The War, Daddy?, in which Peter Barkworth and Alfred Lynch use a wardrobe to spirit Cyd Hayman under the very noses of the Nazi roadblock set-up to arrest her French ass for her naughty resistance-type ways.

For those dear blog readers who don't remember the series (and, let's face it, it was last broadcast in Britain over fifty years ago so that'd probably be most of you), in September 1942 British pilot and twenty four-carat arse Squadron Leader Jimmy Briggs (Lynch) crashes his Spitfire somewhat carelessly in the middle of occupied France and immediately finds himself on the run from the Nazi scumbags. All of them. He meets a woman, Nina (Hayman), a part-Jewish agent with vitally important information that must not, under any circumstances, fall into Ze German hands and who is, frankly, about as wet as a slap in the face with a haddock for much of the time; Jimmy agrees to help get her safely to Britain where her dangerous knowledge will be far less dangerous. He is helped (though, sometimes hindered) by another agent, code-named Vincent (Barkworth). The trio often spend entire episodes bickering with each other and getting themselves into and then out of completely unnecessary trouble by deliberately doing things they are not supposed to and, in the case of Jimmy and Nina doing exactly the opposite of whatever Vincent tells them to do. It's no wonder Peter Barkworth wears an exceedingly annoyed expression throughout the majority of the series. They are pursued across France by SS Officer Lutzig (Philip Madoc at his most fantastically snarling) and also the ambivalent Abwehr Sergeant Gratz (a brilliant role for Robert Hardy), a complex psychological character who appears to fall deeply in lust with Nina. Unlike most previous Second World War dramas, some of the Nazis (particular the Abwehr soldiers) were presented as more than just fanatical goosestepping thugs. While Lutzig was closer to that stereotype (albeit, given typical depth and nuance by Madoc), Gratz could not be more different. Manhunt also portrayed in some detail the intense and bitter rivalry between the SS and the Abwehr over the prosecution of the war. Although the overall plot was driven by the need to keep Nina (and her intimate knowledge) out of the hands of the Ze Germans and get her to England, the series ended ambiguously (and, frankly, in something of an anti-climax). Gratz was sure that he had most of, if not all of, Nina's secret information anyway, mostly through pillow talk and carelessness on her part. Nina and Jimmy, despite their occasional closeness whilst on the run, end up living in different worlds when they do eventually make it to England.

Some aspects of the series have, it must be admitted, not aged at all well when viewed from a Twenty First Century perspective. Nina's portrayal (very well-acted by Hayman, notwithstanding) is shockingly of-its-time in terms of her being a helpless (and, frequently useless) female in need of constantly being protected or, on the several occasions, a good slap. In one episode, traumatised by some of the things she has witnessed, she gets herself into a fugue-state and then comes out of it believing herself to be fifteen years old. The medical advice given to Vincent and Jimmy as to how to break this delusion is for someone to give her a right good shafting to 'make her a woman again.' Whilst the pair argue about which of them will perform this, effective, rape of an innocent, a minor character in the resistance escape line they are being sheltered by does the ghastly deed and Nina emerges back to normal and, seemingly, quite unaffected by the experience. No dramatist would dare to be so crass as to suggest a plot contrivance like that these days and even TPTV's pre-episode warning, that 'Manhunt is set during the Second World War and features attitudes common in that era' still seems a little bit 'you have to be kidding, right?'

Nevertheless, with its sinister, simple title sequence (using Beethoven over graphics of Nazi memorabilia and images of the cast), Manhunt - created by Rex Firkin - had a lot going for it and, in many ways, set the template for further war dramas; that's particularly true of Secret Army (another series portraying resistance to and escape from the Nazis in Europe) and Colditz (in showing a few different sides to the stereotypical German military character). Interestingly, Bernard Hepton who starred in both of those series also crops up in a guest-role in Manhunt, playing a very similar character to his Albert in Secret Army. Other guest actors included Leslie Schofield, Brian Cox (no, the other one), Yootha Joyce, Ian McCulloch, Tony Beckley, Nerys Hughes, Andrew Keir, TP McKenna, Derek Newark, Richard Hurndall, Peggy Ann Wood, Julian Glover, Glynn Edwards, Iain Cuthbertson, James Bree, Maggie Fitzgibbon, George Sewell, John Phillips, Peter Copley, Bernard Archard, Maria Aitken, George Innes, Geoffrey Whitehead, Jack Watson and Paul Darrow. Some episodes featured little dialogue (Intent To Steal, for example) whilst one, Open House, featured practically nothing but, being claustrophobically set in one room with just the three central characters. The language was often very strong, even for a 9pm Friday-night drama in 1970. With the exception of the episode One More River which was shot on film, the programme was made entirely on colour videotape. Broadcast from January to June 1970, Manhunt was a big contemporary hit for ITV and it was repeated, in full, the following year. Thereafter, however, it disappeared into the archives only seeing the light of day again in 2009 when the complete series was released on DVD by the much-lamented Network. Despite its flaws and its of-its-time characterisation, it's still jolly nice to see it again all these years later.

One other little (quite literal) titbit from this blogger's lunch with Young Malcolm occurred when we were discussing our mutual admiration for the recently completed repeat-run of The Gold Robbers (previously covered on this blog, in some depth, here). Malcolm mentioned that, as far as he was aware, the scene in the episode The Cover Plan (broadcast in August 1969) in which Patrick Allen's character's girlfriend (played by Carmen Dene) appears topless was the first example of such explicit nudity in a drama on British TV. He did stress 'drama' noting that documentaries (particularly a couple on the subject of naturism) may have, previously, included the odd flash of tit. This blogger has not been able to specifically verify this as a British TV first, although the date certainly seem about right. (The first time British TV viewers got a taste of full-frontal nudity came when Prunella Gee stripped off playing Anna Fitzgerald in Granada's drama serial Shabby Tiger on 1973.)

It has been a while since we've noted this, dear blog reader, but via Keith Telly Topping's essays on British post-war B-movies, The Corpse, The Yellow Teddy Bears, Saturday Night Out and The Black Torment, The Pleasure Girls, Hell Is A City, Cup Fever, Face Of A Stranger and Yield To The Night, Hell Drivers, The Day The Earth Caught Fire and Game For Three Losers, Hammer Films, Blood Of The Vampire and Good-Time Girl, Beat Girl, The Earth Dies Screaming, Radio-Cab Murder, Seven Days Till Noon, Murder In Reverse, The Gelignite Gang and Dead Man's Chest, Danger By My Side, Night Of The Prowler, Impact, Smokescreen, Girl In The Headlines and The Narrowing Circle, there was a period during 2022 when From The North seemed more like a film blog which, sometimes, discussed TV. Rather than the other way around which is, in theory at least, this blog's raison d'être. C'est la vie, chers lecteurs du blog. Mai oui.

This blogger mentions all of that because Carry On Spying cropped up on Talking Pictures TV a couple of times over the last few weeks. It's one of the franchise that almost never seems to get shown these days on 'normal' telly, presumably because it was made in black and white (a fate that it shares with the equally excellent Carry On Cabby from the same period). That is a genuine shame because Spying is so much better than many of the colour ones from both before and afterwards (this blogger's particular favourite Carry On Screaming notwithstanding. Although that hasn't been shown very much of late either, having been something of a staple of ITV4 for a year or two). But, seeing Spying again, for the first time in probably a decade at least, was a worthy reminder of just how good the series could be. And, not for nothing, but Cribbins is great in it.

When this blogger wrote his lengthy essay, B Crumble & The Stinkers: The British Post-War B-Movie - A Re-Assessment in July 2022 one of the movie covered in passing in the piece was 1954's Devil Girl From Mars which also recently cropped up on From The North's favourite channel in all the world, bar none, Talking Pictures TV.

Devil Girl From Mars was a 1954 British monochrome SF movie, produced by The Danziger Brothers, directed by David MacDonald, written (possibly in crayon) by James Eastwood and John C Mathers and starring Patricia Laffan, Hugh McDermott, From The North favourite Hazel Court, Peter Reynolds, Adrienne Corri and John Laurie. It was released by British Lion, premiering in the UK in May 1954 and in the United States the following year. Contemporary reviews were often rather dismissive but, like many movies which begin with a reputation lower than rattlesnakes piss the film has, over the years, acquired something of a cult following.

The plot: Nyah (Laffan), the titular butch leather-clad female commander from Mars, heads for London in her flying saucer. She is part of the advance alien team looking for Earthmen to replace the declining male population on her world, the result of 'a devastating war between the sexes.' Because of damage to her craft, caused when entering the Earth's atmosphere and an apparent collision with an airliner, she is forced to land in the remote Scottish moors. She is armed with a ray gun which can paralyse or kill and is accompanied by a tall, not-particularly-menacing robot named Chani. Professor Arnold Hennessey (Joseph Tomelty), an astrophysicist, accompanied by square-jawed journalist Michael Carter (McDermott), is sent by the British government to investigate the effects of the crash, believed to have been caused by a meteorite. The pair come to The Bonnie Charlie, a remote hotel run by Mister and Mrs Jamieson (Laurie, Sophie Stewart) in the depths of the Scottish Highlands, where the heather grows tall and the cow-shit lies thick. At the bar they meet Ellen Prestwick (Court), a fashion model who came to The Bonnie Charlie to escape an affair with a married man. She quickly (and, somewhat inevitably) forms a romantic liaison with Carter. Meanwhile, escaped convict Robert Justin (Reynolds), convicted for accidentally killing his wife, comes to the inn to reunite with barmaid Doris (Corri), with whom he is deeply in lust.

Nyah happens across the inn, incinerates the Jamiesons' handyman (James Edmond) and then enters the bar. When she finds no-one willing to come with her to Mars and have lots of The Sex with Martian ladies like herself, she responds with intimidation, trapping the guests and staff within an invisible force-field and turning Chani loose to vaporise much of the manor's grounds. Discovering Justin and Tommy (Anthony Richmond), the Jamiesons' young, bratty and really annoying nephew, hiding in the bushes, Nyah kidnaps Tommy as a possible male specimen and sends Justin back to the inn under some form of powerful mind control. Nyah then brings Professor Hennessy on-board her spaceship to view the technological achievements of Martian civilisation, including the ship's atomic power source. In exchange for Tommy, Carter volunteers to go to Mars with Nyah. For, remember, lots of The Sex with those sexy, leather-wearing Martians birds. Just saying. Realising that the only chance to defeat Nyah requires trickery, Hennessy suggests Carter sabotage the ship's power source after take off. However, Carter attempts a double-cross before boarding the ship, snatching Nyah's controller for Chani. However, this attempt is thwarted by Nyah's mind control powers. Carter is released by Nyah and they both return to the bar, where Nyah, in a fit of hot alien pique, announces that she has had enough trying to find men willing to have lots of The Sex and has decided to destroy the inn and kill everyone within it when she leaves, shortly, for London. To wreak havoc upon the English and, presumably, find some men who aren't terrified of the prospect of lots of The Sex. However she will allow one man to go with her in order to escape death. The men draw lots and Carter wins, still hoping to enact Hennessy's plan to destroy the spaceship. At the last minute, Justin, alone at the bar and now free from mind control, offers to go with Nyah of his own free will. After take-off he successfully sabotages Nyah's flying saucer, sacrificing himself to save the men of Earth from a fate worse than lots of The Sex and atoning for the death of his wife. The survivors celebrate their escape with a drink at the bar.

In an interview with Frank J Dello Stritto, co-screenwriter John Chartres Mather claimed that Devil Girl From Mars came about while he was working with The Danzigers were at the time producing Calling Scotland Yard (1953) which appeared as an American television series and as cinema second-features in Great Britain and around the Commonwealth. When production finished ahead of schedule, Mather claimed that he was ordered to use up the remaining film studio time already booked and paid for by working on a feature film for The Danzigers. The interview also suggests that Laffan's devil girl costume was 'economically' made by designer John Sutcliffe. Laffan herself stated that the costume was very hot and difficult to wear for extended periods. The film was shot at Shepperton Studios with sets designed by the art director Norman Arnold. It was made on a very low budget, with no retakes considered except in cases where the actual film stock had become damaged; it was filmed over a period of approximately three weeks, often filming well into the night. Amongst several mistakes and logic flaws which had to be left in due to these constraints, the arrival of Nyah's spacecraft knocks out the electricity supply to the telephone and the car ignition. However, it does not affect the domestic supply to the hotel since the captives try to electrocute Nyah by wiring up a door handle. Also, When Mister Jamieson hands Carter a revolver it is a small gun of a 'top-break' style with a very short barrel. Yet when Carter, in close-up, points the gun at Nyah and fires, it has transformed into a totally different gun - a larger, longer-barrelled, revolver of the 'swing-out cylinder' type. Most notoriously, when the supposedly 'indestructible' robot leaves the spaceship, a close-up of its feet reveals paint scraping off where the joints of the suit and the boots meet!

Hazel Court later told author Tom Weaver: 'I remember great fun on the set. It was like a repertory company acting that film.' The robot, Chani, was constructed by Jack Whitehead and was operated by a stunt man. Michael Rennie's alien, Klaatu, posing as 'Mister Carpenter' in The Day The Earth Stood Still (1951), was intended by the screenwriter of that movie, Edmund H North, to evoke a Christ-like figure. It has been suggested (by Thomas Kent Miller in his 2016 book Mars In The Movies: A History among others) that Nyah, in this film, was intended to evoke an anti-Virgin Mary image. Devil Girl From Mars's sound editor was Gerry Anderson (credited as Gerald Anderson), later to create numerous television series such as Thunderbirds. To save time and money, the movie's composer, the great Edwin Astley, reused much of his Saber Of London TV series score for the film. Some of the dialogue is hilariously bad, but quite a few of the most quotable lines have a knowing, appealingly self deprecating, quality. For example, when Carter introduced Nyan to Mrs Jamieson, as 'your latest guest. Miss Nyah. She comes from Mars' the hotel-keeper responds, dryly: 'Oh, well, that'll mean another bed.' There's a wonderful exchange between Carter and Mister Jamieson about how far the nearest telephone is. Seven miles, Carter is told. 'How far is the village?' he asks. 'Seven miles. That's where the house with the phone is!' John Laurie replies with his usual bijoux comic timing. Justin, whilst under Nyah's mind-control, has a marvellously over-the-top moment, exclaiming: 'We are all the slaves of a great and powerful nation, let us prepare for our rulers.' To which Doris looks at him and asks, with genuine concern: 'Have you gone daft?' Most of Nyah's lines, however, are the stuff of glorious hack villainy, such as 'it amuses me to watch your puny efforts' and 'now, men. Look, watch the power of another world!' 'What bargain has she made with him?' Ellen wails (Hazel Court acting her little cotton socks off) as Michael offers to go with Nyah. 'Can you not guess,' Professor Hennessey. 'He's going to provide her with children!'

With the tagline 'Invasion from Outer Space! ... Sights too weird to imagine! Destruction too monstrous to escape!' Devil Girl From Mars opened at the Metropole, Victoria on 2 May 1954 and also ran at the Odeon, Tottenham Court Road during the following weeks before getting a series of scattered runs in provincial cinemas around the country throughout the year. It was described in the contemporary trade press as 'the first major outer space film to be made in this country' (beating Burt Balaban's equally flawed-but-fascinating Stranger From Venus into UK cinemas by a few months). And, at least some trade reviewers, as a consequence, treated it with a seriousness which would not, normally, be given to a genre or exploitation movie. Gavin Lambert, for example, wrote in The Monthly Film Bulletin: 'This primitive British effort at science-fiction is quite enjoyably ludicrous, mainly on account of Patricia Laffan's splendid Nyah. Clothed in black silk tights, a black cloak, a metallurgical-looking wig and walled in make-up, she moves with the air of a sleep-walker, never looking at the person to whom she is talking and speaking her lines - particularly those describing the scientific marvels of her planet - in an impatient monotone, as if contemptuous of any meaning they may, from time-to-time, contain. One would like to see Nyah again, preferably in a serial. The romance of mannequin and journalist, also, will have its appeal to connoisseurs of life among the English. Settings, dialogue, characterisation and special effects are of a low order; but even their modest unreality has its charm. There is really no fault in this film that one would like to see eliminated. Everything, in its way, is quite perfect.' Contemporaneously, Kine Weekly said: 'Effective interplay of character establishes human interest without curbing essential spectacle and the ending literally goes with a bang. At once ingenious stunt offering and artful woman's stuff, its conquest of both worlds stands it in good stead. The picture keeps the strange and frightening "flying saucer" at a respectable distance, but resourceful camera work gives the illusion validity ... and the characters are not dwarfed by the gimmicks. Although the shots of the rocket-ship landing, departing and disintegrating are arresting, they are not introduced at the expense of human interest. The sacrifice made by Albert [sic] is the heart of its sensational and salutary matter.' In later years, Rolling Stain columnist Doug Pratt called Devil Girl From Mars a 'delightfully bad movie' and added that the 'acting is really bad and the whole thing is so much fun you want to run to your local community theatre group and have them put it on next, instead of Brigadoon.' None of which is, actually, true in the slightest. American film reviewer Leonard Maltin said that the film is a 'hilariously solemn, high-camp British imitation of US cheapies.' Which is a much closer and much fairer assessment.

In Going To Mars: The Stories Of The People Behind NASA's Mars Missions Past, Present & Future, the authors describe the film as 'an undeniably awful but oddly interesting' film. They noted that the plot was 'more a reflection of the 1950s view of politics and the era's inequality of the sexes than a thoughtful projection of present or future possibilities.' And, in that regard, it shared similarities with just about all science-fiction (American and British) of the immediate post-war era. In Mars: A Tour Of The Human Imagination, Eric S Rabkin likens the character Nyah to a dominatrix and, even, to a neo-Nazi. He said of the film that, 'a host of charged images and subconscious fears' are handled 'with a broad camp irony.' Otherwise, 'without some underlying psychological engagement, how could anyone sit through a movie so badly made?' Quite easily as it turned out since the movie, reportedly, did more than reasonable box-office business at the time (the The British 'B' Movie describes the film as 'a considerable hit' which enabled the producers, The Danzigers 'to make bigger-budget, if less successful' movies like the 1957's SF romp 1957's Satellite In The Sky).

British film critic Leslie Halliwell sneered it was '[An] absurd attempt to cash in on the then new science-fiction craze. The budget matches the imagination.' In British Sound Films: The Studio Years 1928–1959, David Quinlan rated the film as 'average', adding: 'Talky science-film runs like an early serial.' However, Steve Chibnall and Brian McFarlane in the excellent The British 'B' Film (2009) wrote: 'Clad as a dominatrix in leather cap, cloak and stiletto boots, [Nyah] is a genuinely shocking figure in the staid world of British film-making of the time: it is as if the underworld of S&M fetishism had suddenly surfaced and, with it, the collective unconscious of the nation. Backed by the mechanised might of her faithful robot (resembling a fridge-on-legs) she imparts a sexual charge that the film's scenario struggles to contain and gives a wholly different spin to the desire expressed by another of the inn's visitors, the prodigal metropolitan model played by Hazel Court, to spend more time in the country, find the right man, have children. Nyah is an eroticised threat to a patriarchy that was increasingly troubled in the post-war years. She comes to turn the proud men of Earth into sex slaves for her matriarchal order,' the result, apparently of a gender war which lasted 'many of your Earth years.' Nyah can, thus, be regarded as a 'conciliatory coded-warning' (sexy and scary) of the consequences to men of allowing women's emancipation to 'go too far.' Devil Girl From Mars, they added, 'is, therefore, not only a camp classic but an ideologically significant moment in 1950s British cinema' and, 'one of the earliest examples of British exploitation-film making, a mode to which the B-movie is historically and aesthetically, linked.'

In terms of its legacy beyond 1950's Britain, the film is reported to have inspired Hugo and Nebula award-winning author Octavia Butler to begin writing science-fiction as a twelve year old. After watching the movie, she said, she declared that she 'could write something better.' The film didn't receive its first UK TV showing until April 1983, when it popped up one Saturday morning on BBC1 (and was actually given a bit of a fanfare by Radio Times due to this being its telly debut). Soon afterwards, released on home video, it began to develop something of a cult following. The fact that it was, clearly, an inspiration for Larry Buchanan's camp 1967 SF movie Mars Needs Women probably helped in this regard. It has a reputation colder than liquid nitrogen on the Rotten Tomatoes website where the only review they include is from that odious Berriman individual at the equally odious SFX magazine ('sadly, the PVC-clad Nyah is a crashing bore'). Two excellent reasons to greatly admire the movie on the grounds that anything those cheb-ends don't like is, probably, worth investigating. It would be daft to claim Devil Girl From Mars is 'good', or anything even remotely like it. But, it is rather fun, surprisingly well-shot given the limitations of its creation and budget, surprisingly well-acted given the limitations of the script and, unsurprisingly in-tune the contemporary fears and attitudes which make it, from a Twenty First Century perspective, an endearingly fascinating historical artifact.

Another, very welcome, vintage artefact cropping up on TPTV recently was a rare showing of Michael Tuchner's incredibly violent 1971 gangster movie Villain. Scripted, difficult as it is to believe, by From The North favourites Dick Clement and Ian La Frenais - way out of their usual comfort zone - Villain's violence, as with other films of the same era (Get Carter, A Clockwork Orange, Performance, for instance), was very graphic, especially during the heist scene. It has, as a consequence, been suggested as a direct influence on several hard-hitting 1970s police TV dramas such as The Sweeney, Target and Special Branch. A fine cast was led by Richard Burton as the Ronnie Kray-style gay gang-boss, Vic Dakin, whom The Bobbies (Nigel Davenport and Colin Welland) would love to bang-up down the Scrubs for his naughty gangster ways. But, whom the audience is supposed to feel a bit of sympathy for because, like Ronnie and Reggie, he really loves his mum. Dick and Ian's screenplay came from an initial treatment by the American actor Al Lettieri, renowned for his tough-guy roles in films such as The Godfather (1972) and The Getaway (1972) as well as for his real-life associations with the New York Gambino Family. Clement and La Frenais based their script on Burden Of Proof, a novel by James Barlow that the Chicago Tribune had called 'sizzling [and] compelling.' Coincidentally, Barlow mentions Burton in the text of his book in a scene in which Dakin's barrister asks a female witness if she likes Burton in an effort to sow doubt in the jury's mind about her identification evidence. Though several of the main characters and important situations carry over from the novel, Clement and La Frenais altered the plot considerably. Burton wrote in his diaries in July 1970 that he was approached to make the film by Elliott Kastner, who had recently produced Where Eagles Dare. 'It is a racy sadistic London piece about cops and robbers - the kind of "bang bang - calling all cars" stuff that I've always wanted to do and never have. It could be more than that depending on the director. I play a cockney gangland leader who is very much a mother's boy and takes her to Southend and buys her whelks et cetera but in The Smoke I am a ruthless fiend incarnate. Homosexual as well. All ripe stuff.' Dick normally earned a million dollars per movie but agreed to make Villain for no salary in exchange for a sizeable percentage of the profits. 'These are the times of economies for everyone making pictures,' he told the Los Angeles Times. 'Actually working this way - if you can afford it and don't mind waiting for your money - is far more exciting for the actor. You feel more involved in everything rather than just like an old hired hand.' Burton also said that the producers persuaded him to take the part through 'great American conmanship. One of the producers said to me "I bet if I offered you the part of a cockney gangster you'd turn it down, wouldn't you?" And, of course, one's immediate response is to say "don't be daft, of course I wouldn't." The next thing you know, you've got a script in your hand.' Burton admitted that he had always wanted to play a gangster, having long admired Edward G Robinson, James Cagney and Humphrey Bogart: 'I suppose like the fat man who would have loved to be a ballet dancer.' During filming, he said: 'I usually play kings or princes or types like that. I've never played a real villain. Interesting type. I'm not sure about th[e] film. We'll see.' In 2013, Ian McShane said that he had mixed feelings about playing Burton's bi-sexual lover, Wolfe. 'After kissing me, he's going to beat the Hell out of me ... it's that kind of relationship - rather hostile. It was very S&M. He said to me, "I'm very glad you're doing this film." I said, "So am I, Richard." He said, "You know why, don't you? ... You remind me of Elizabeth!" I guess that made the kissing [me] easier.'

Although the film was a big hit in the UK in 1971 (making back three times its three hundred thousand knicker budget and guaranteeing Burton a more than decent pay-day), it was something of a flop in the US and the review were, broadly, negative. Monthly Film Bulletin said 'After Performance and Get Carter, there appear to be few atrocities left unexplored in the British underworld. But where the latter's determinedly "unsentimental" approach resulted in an automaton hero and a story-line loose enough to accommodate a maximum number of picturesque deaths in striking locations, Villain's superficial nastiness (largely a matter of louder and better synchronised punches) conceals a relatively old-fashioned approach to the genre.' In 1971, Burton wrote in his diary that Villain was 'a goodish film but so far isn't doing very well in the States but has not yet opened in Britain and the Commonwealth where it should do better.'

And now, dear blog reader, one from the 'you couldn't make it up. Well, you could, but no one would believe you,' column. A fan-fiction writer has been sued by the estate of JRR Tolkien for copyright after publishing his own sequel to The Lord Of The Rings. That's actually publishing it, not writing it and putting it up on a website, or putting it into a non-profit-making fanzine of some kind but, printing it off in a book and selling it. For money. That's not only a copyright infringement it's also idiocy. US-based author Demetrious Polychron (so, he's American, that figures. And he's also got a silly name so, double bonus) published a book called The Fellowship Of The King in 2022. Polychron, who is clearly not mental, described it as 'the pitch-perfect sequel to The Lord Of The Rings.' People who reviewed the work on the GoodReads website described it as 'fanfiction. But it's not even good fanfiction', the work of 'a delusional hack "writer"' and 'couldn't get past the first couple of pages'. The court ruled that Polychron must cease and desist distributing copies of the book immediately and destroy all physical and electronic copies. In April 2023 Polychron attempted to sue the Tolkein estate and Amazon, claiming that the TV series, Rings Of Power, infringed the copyright in his book. The case was dismissed after the judge ruled that Polychron's own book was infringing on Amazon's prequel which was released in September 2022. No shit? The Tolkien Estate then filed a separate lawsuit against Polychron for an injunction to stop The Fellowship Of The King from being further distributed. On pain of him having Glamdring The Forehammer rammed, sideways, up his lord-of-the-ringpiece for his naughty thieving ways. On Thursday Judge Steven V Wilson called Polychron's lawsuit 'frivolous and unreasonably filed' and granted the permanent injunction, preventing him from selling his book and any other planned sequels. Of which there were six. I mean, of course there were. The court also awarded lawyer's fees totalling one hundred and thirty four thousand bucks to the Tolkien Estate and Amazon in connection with Polychron's lawsuit. The estate's UK solicitor, Steven Maier of Maier Blackburn, said: 'This is an important success for the Tolkien Estate, which will not permit unauthorised authors and publishers to monetise JRR Tolkien's much-loved works in this way. This case involved a serious infringement of The Lord Of The Rings copyright, undertaken on a commercial basis and the estate hopes that the award of a permanent injunction and attorneys' fees will be sufficient to dissuade others who may have similar intentions.' Earlier this year it was confirmed by Warner Bros that more Lord Of The Rings films are on the way over the next few years. Work on the second series of Amazon's TV show began in October.

'Discuss the contention that Cleopatra had the body of a roll-top desk and the mind of a duck (Oxford & Cambridge Board O-Level Paper, 1976) ... Put it away, Plectrum ... Nibble! Leave Orifice Alone!'

NASA has streamed an ultra high-definition video of a cat back to Earth from the depths of space. Quite how this is going to help NASA create the first manned colonies on Mars, they didn't explain but, nevertheless, it's nice to see the American public's tax dollars being put to such good use. The fifteen-second clip of Taters the cat was sent via laser - and, fittingly, shows it chasing a laser beam. Footage of the tabby travelled nineteen million miles - some eighty times the distance from Earth to the Moon. NASA hopes that the laser tech it was testing will eventually improve communications with more remote parts of the solar system. Taters, whose paws you will all be delighted to know remained firmly on Earth, is owned by an employee of NASA's Jet Propulsion Laboratory in California. The video was uploaded to a spacecraft launched with SpaceX's Falcon Heavy rocket from Florida's Kennedy Space Centre on 13 October and was streamed on 11 December. 'Despite transmitting from millions of miles away, it was able to send the video faster than most broadband internet connections,' said JPL electronics lead Ryan Rogalin. The video was received by the Hale telescope at the Palomar observatory, where it was downloaded. From there it was streamed to the JPL and played in real-time. Rogalin said that the connection over which the video was sent from the Palomar observatory to the JPL base was actually slower than the signal transmitting the clip from space. 'JPL's DesignLab did an amazing job helping us showcase this technology. Everyone loves Taters,' he added.

The US government has issued its first ever fine to a company for leaving space junk orbiting the Earth. The Federal Communications Commission fined Dish Network one hundred and fifty thousand dollars for failing to move an old satellite far enough away from others in use. The company admitted liability over its EchoStar-7 satellite and agreed to a 'compliance plan' with the FCC. Space junk is made up bits of tech that are in orbit around the Earth but are no longer in use and risk collisions. Officially called 'space debris', it includes things like old satellites and parts of spacecraft. The FCC said that Dish's satellite posed a potential risk to other satellites orbiting the Earth at its current altitude. Dish's EchoStar-7 - which was first launched in 2002 - was in geostationary orbit, which starts at twenty two thousand miles above the Earth's surface. Dish was meant to move the satellite one hundred and eighty six miles further from Earth, but at the end of its life in 2022 had moved it only seventy six miles after it lost fuel. 'As satellite operations become more prevalent and the space economy accelerates, we must be certain that operators comply with their commitments,' said FCC enforcement bureau chief Loyaan Egal. 'This is a breakthrough settlement, making very clear the FCC has strong enforcement authority and capability to enforce its vitally important space debris rules.' The fine represents a tiny proportion of Dish's overall revenue, which was over sixteen billion bucks in 2022.

Meanwhile, on a marginally-related theme, the rings of Uranus look positively festive in a new, epic, James Webb Space Telescope photo.

This blogger believes that The U2 Group have announced they intend to hold a benefit concert in Reykjavík for those affected by the devastation of the Reykjanes Peninsula volcano explosion. As if those poor bloody Icelanders haven't suffered enough already.

Now, dear blog reader, From The North provides you with an important public service announcement.

What a good job it wasn't a bar of extremely expensive Niederegger Marzipan®™, dear blog reader. She'd've probably got life for that.

Meanwhile, breaking wind, sorry, news.

One trusts that if the case does, eventually, reach court, this chap will be pumped for further information and have his story ripped apart.

'I had a burglar. I disturbed him. I said "There is no God"!'

Which brings us, nicely, to the From The North Headline Of The Week award nominations. Starting with Pulse Hobart's breath-takingly vivid Late-Night 'Stuck Horn' On Tasmanian Train Blares For Minutes, Wakes Up Town Of Penguin.

Also, the Huddersfield Examiner's Residents 'Disgusted & Depressed' Over Missed Bin Collections Going Back To October.

Finally - and wholly appropriate to the festive season, dear blog readers - the Evening Chronicle's I Met A Dishevelled Santa At The Metrocentre Wearing No Shoes Or Hat & Complaining In Front Of Kids. Well, to be fair, wouldn't you be complaining if you had no shoes or hat and you had to drive your sleigh around the world on a chilly Christmas Eve and do a shift in Gatesheed too? Above-and-beyond-the-call, that, Santa.