Welcome, you all are, dearest bloggerisationism readers and all good fiends of the blog, to the latest From The North update from The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House, the first, as it happens, since the start of February.
During which time Spring has, as it were, seemingly sprung - at least on one dismal piece of muddy waste-ground close to The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House it has. Elsewhere? This blogger wouldn't know about that as he seldom ventures beyond the drum without good reason.
Let us, therefore, kick-off this latest From The North bloggerisationisms update with a heartfelt confession from this very blogger. 'Keith Telly Topping promises not to celebrate utterly meaningless milestones related to this blog and to the thirteen million page hits total that it has recently passed (mostly from people who've wandered in here by accident in search of p*rn, no doubt).' Cross his heart and hope to diet, dear bloggerisationism fiends.
This blogger is, additionally, not sure which aspect of this malarkey is, truly, the saddest; the number of hits that Keith Telly Topping's utterly pointless drivel has collected over the last fifteen years, the fact that someone (ie. this blogger) actually counts the funkers or (and this is the one which this blogger is currently leaning towards the mostest, baby) the fact that he spent about five minutes of his valuable time sitting in The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House one wet Sunday afternoon watching for the From The North page-hit counter to tick over from 12,999,998 to 12,999,999 to 13,000,000 to 13.000,001. This blogger's life in a nutshell, ladies, gentlemen and fiends, all. Empty doesn't even begin to describe it.
One again, the third weekend in February was that weekend of the year where three quarters of the fiends that this blogger has on planet Earth were all in Los Angeles for the annual Gallifrey ONE convention. And this blogger, again, was not. Keith Telly Topping, therefore, of course hopes that all of you lot who were there had a most splendid and excellent time imaginable (he said through gritted teeth). And that everyone got back home to their various corners of the globe with, hopefully, absolutely no tales whatsoever of drunken escapades, behind-the-scenes shenanigans, unwise (though entirely gossip-worthy) sexual liaisons between parties you'd never believe had it in them or other assorted malarkey involving whom-snorted-what at a party in West Hollywood. You know, all of the usual sort of stuff that absolutely never goes on at these type of events. Oh no, very hot water. This blogger was with you all in spirit as he sat here in The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House in the middle of a Tyneside February. Freezing.
Meanwhile a further series of photos have been released covering some of the forthcoming highlights of from next series of Doctor Who. To which this blogger feels in necessary to note, yet again, that it's still the wrong Gretsch! Mind you, Isaac Newton didn't discover 'mavity' either so, you know, there's usually a easy explanation for all manner of doings in the Doctor Whoniverse.
We've also seen a series of on-location images from the following series, which is currently in production and scheduled for broadcast in 2025 appearing. Like this one featuring yer actual Ncuti Gatwa his very self.
And, this one, with Ncuti and Varada Sethu and the TARDIS.
And, this one featuring Anita Dobson. And, some other people. Including one wearing a daft hat.
Speaking to Radio Times (which used to be run by adults) at the Covers Party 2024, The Lord Thy God Steven Moffat (OBE) revealed what he was most excited to see from Ncuti Gatwa's first series in the role of The Doctor. 'I think Ncuti is going to be [an] amazing Doctor, he's going to be different,' said Steven. 'But I've already seen this, I think we all have in The Giggle, that he's got all the command and all the presence of a classic Doctor, plus a whole funky new thing that's going on. And that's what we need.' He continued: 'Because, the funky new thing's great, but what you've really got to have is, "I'm the guy who gives the orders." And the thing I particularly like from The Giggle is when he orders David Tennant out of the TARDIS. He says, "Beat it, kid" and that's great. He's going to be a magnificent Doctor. And twenty years from now, people will be complaining that he's not still in the show.' When posed the inevitable question about whether fans could expect Steven himself to return to the franchise that he graced for nearly ten years, Steven said: 'Look at my ageing face. How can I fit in? And I know, because I've seen the feedback, that people think I'm being evasive on the subject. We've got Russell there. We've got a bunch of new writers there. We've got Ncuti there. It's all good.'
Matt Smith is certainly a jolly busy chap at the moment. There have been a whole series of focus-pieces on Smudger in various organs of the media over the last couple of weeks; for instance, take a lengthy interview covering Doctor Who, The Crown, House Of The Dragon and much more with the Observer's Rachel Cocke, which you can check out here; there's a piece with the BBC's Yasmin Rufo on his current stage-role in what appears to be a rather radical adaptation Ibsen's Enemy Of The People, here; also, an interview in Deadline (in which he said some very nice things about Ncuti Gatwa) and a cheerful interview with Laura Kunessberg (almost certainly the first time you've seen the words' cheerful' and 'Kunessberg' in the same sentence for a long time), on 'if he'd return to Doctor Who and being Prince Harry's "grandad"', which you can have a gander at, here.
Smudger's immediate predecessor in the TARDIS, that there national heartthrob David Tennant, has also been making headlines recently. Whether it was an utterly nothing piece in Radio Times (which used to be run by adults) about how 'geeky' he is (seriously, dear blog readers, trees were wasted to bring you this nonsense) or wearing a kilt when presenting the BAFTAs (this, constitutes 'news', apparently. At least, it does in the Independent). There has also been the recent release of a previously unknown deleted scene from Silence In The Library featuring Ten and Cat Tate which, for some reason, the BBC have only just decided to make available now.
Which brings us, nicely, to ...
This blogger recently concluded his annual 'complete Department S rewatch marathon' (as previously covered in some depth on this blog. the last time he did it). Just to remind himself what jolly good fun spending a long weekend with Peter Wyngarde, Joel Fabiani and Rosemary Nichols and their outrageous shenanigans can be. 'Are you a professional, Mister King?' 'No, merely a naturally-gifted amateur!'
That quickly followed this blogger's first almost complete rewatch of Hammer House Of Mystery & Suspense in 'kin years. Absolute 'kin years.
Of course, there is one large crossover point between those two; by a significant margin, the best episode of the latter anthology series was Dennis Spooner's And The Walls Came Tumbling Down starring the Godlike Mister Wyngarde at his nostril-flaring best as the main villain in what was, ultimately, one of his last great TV roles.
This blog's favourite TV channel, Talking Pictures TV, recently started a repeat showing of The Brothers which reminded this blogger of when the popular BBC Sunday night avarice soap was previously shown on UK Gold back in this 1990s. And, this blogger's mate Abie asked him to tape it for him (yes, this was still in the days of videotape, dear blog reader - if you're a youngling, look it up on the Interweb). Because he's a Gabrielle Drake completist (I mean, hey, aren't we all?) 'I think she's only in the first series,' Abie added, helpfully. This blogger - whose mum had been a big fan and regular viewer of the drama back in the 1970s - remembered things somewhat differently; that her character, Jill, starts off as David Hammond's girlfriend in a few episodes of the first series, then disappears. Later, she returns, marries him and then, dies - off-screen - in a car-crash between series. What can this blogger say, dear blog reader? Memories of her spending much of one episode in a black leotard helped him through some difficult early-teenage years. So Keith Telly Topping replied: 'No, I think she's in two series at least, possibly three.' Of course, it turns out she was in the first four series and, by the time she did get written out, this blogger had been taping the damn thing for a few months and Abie said 'well, Colin Baker's in it by this point. And Kate O'Mara and Mike Pratt are due to turn up soon so you might as well keep going to the finish!' Which Keith Telly Topping did, dear blog reader. Because he's a good fiend when he wants to be and, actually, he was rather enjoying watching it himself.
However, it had never even occurred to this blogger previously to check the date of Gabrielle's departure. The final episode of the fourth series of The Brothers was broadcast on BBC1 on 8 December 1974 with the fifth series starting in April 1975, presumably meaning it would've gone into production around January. That, suddenly, made the reason for Gabrielle's sudden and unexpected exit from the series blindingly obvious. Her beloved brother, the singer-songwriter Nick Drake, died on 25 November 1974 from an overdose on antidepressants. Given this horrific family tragedy it's, therefore, hardly surprising that returning to her role in a TV drama wasn't, perhaps, the first thing on his sister's mind at the time. Checking her career CV, it's noticeable that there's a - completely understandable - eighteen month gap from last-1974 before Gabrielle next appeared in anything on TV (an episode of Thriller called Kill Two Birds broadcast in May 1976). This blogger can't think why he didn't put two and two together sooner.
Incidentally, dear blog reader, did you know - and you probably did - that The Brothers was not only hugely popular in Britain the mid-1970s but was, also, massive in The Netherlands, where it was broadcast under the title The Hammonds? This resulted in one of the least-likely TV/music spin-offs of all-time, a Christmas LP recorded by the cast called Christmas With The Hammonds, produced by the Dutch TV host Willem Duys. It reached number twenty two in the Dutch Top Fifty in December 1976. Which, may seem cruel and unusual on the part of the UK to dump such crap on our Dutch neighbours who'd done nothing to deserve it with hindsight. But, frankly, given that the UK number one single at that time was 'Mississippi' by Pussycat, this blogger reckons we were just getting our own back. This blogger's never actually heard Christmas With The Hammonds personally, but he is assured by someone he knows who has that it is every single bit as funking appalling as you'd imagine it to be. Which is a relief, frankly, because if been told it was even halfway decent, Keith Telly Topping would have been genuinely disgusted.
Over Christmas, this blogger was horrified to learn of the death of one of his long-time Facebook fiends, Matt Dale. Matt was an accomplished author and podcaster who covered the Quantum Leap franchise closely. His book Beyond The Mirror Image is one of the most detailed and exhaustive volumes looking at the original Quantum Leap 1989 to 1993 series. Matt was also active in the Quantum Leap podcasting space, spending time dissecting the production, its themes and storylines. Matt was an advocate and fan of the franchise as a whole, from the original series to the current ongoing revival. 'He was a dear friend and a long time, ultimate Quantum Leap fan. Matt wrote Beyond The Mirror Image: The Observers Guide To Quantum Leap. He was head of the Quantum Leap Podcast and author of the best books on the original Quantum Leap series and soon-to-come book three, based on the new Quantum Leap series,' producer Deborah Pratt wrote on Instagram. 'We lost him on Christmas Day. He left his partner Sharon and his son, seven-year-old Zack behind. Matt was forty three. There's an ancient Egyptian saying, "We died twice in this life. Once when we pass from our physical bodies and a second time when people stop saying our name." Help me keep the legend.' The Quantum Leap episode The Outsider, broadcast on 13 February in the US, ended with an on-screen dedication to 'our friend' Matt Dale which, this blogger is sure, Matt himself would have been thrilled about.
This blogger was recently listening to an old episode of the (fabulous) Word In Your Ear podcast where David Hepworth came up with what, Keith Telly Topping believes, may well be the finest and most apt description for the reason why the Internet was (intellectually) created: 'It's so that middle-aged men can have the illusion of them feeling that they've had the last word on any subject!'
Sony Pictures Entertainment, Sam Mendes and Neal Street Productions have announced an allegedly 'ground-breaking creative endeavor [sic]' to tell the story of The Be-Atles (a popular beat combo of the 1960s, you might've heard of them) with four (count 'em) theatrical feature films. The project marks the first time Apple Corps Ltd and The Be-Atles their very selves - Sir Paul McCartney (MBE), Sir Ringo Starr (MBE) and the estates of the late George Harrison (MBE) and John Lennon (MBE, returned) - have granted full life story and music rights for a scripted film. As conceived by Mendes, who will direct, the four theatrical feature films - one from each band member's point-of-view - will 'intersect to tell the astonishing story of the greatest band in history.' So, in that case, one will be sour, cynical, bitter and (allegedly) violent, one will be hippy-dippy mystic and way over most people's heads, one will be a bit lightweight and passive-aggressive, although extremely watchable and the Ringo one might, actually, be quite good. SPE will finance and distribute worldwide 'with full theatrical windows' in 2027. Or, to put in it a slightly less up-its-own-arse-with-corporate-bullshit-speak way, they'll be in cinemas in three years time (if they're finished by then). The 'dating cadence' of the films, the details of which will be shared closer to release, will be 'innovative and ground-breaking.' It says here. Some Middle Class hippy Communist prick of no importance at the Gruniad Morning Star even reckons he's the one to tell them who they should be casting. Mendes will produce alongside his Neal Street Productions partners Pippa Harris and Julie Pastor. Jeff Jones will executive produce for Apple Corps. 'I'm honoured to be telling the story of the greatest rock band of all time and excited to challenge the notion of what constitutes a trip to the movies,' said Mendes. 'We intend this to be a uniquely thrilling and epic cinematic experience: four films, told from four different perspectives which tell a single story about the most celebrated band of all time,' said Pippa Harris. 'To have The Be-Atles' and Apple Corps' blessing to do this is an immense privilege. From our first meeting with Tom Rothman and Elizabeth Gabler, it was clear that they shared both our passion and ambition for this project and we can't think of a more perfect home than Sony Pictures.' 'Apple Corps is delighted to collaborate with Sam, Pippa and Julie to explore each Be-Atle's unique story and to bring them together in a suitably captivating and innovative way,' said Jones. 'Sony Pictures' enthusiastic support, championing the project's scope and creative vision from the start, has been invaluable for all of us.' Or, alternatively, you could just wait for Mark Lewisohn to get his next volume of Tune In onto the shelves (I know, I know, we've been waiting eleven funking years for it already but, hope springs eternal) and then read the book instead. Unless we all die in the interim, obviously. That's what this blogger, likely, will be doing.
Which, of course, brings us to our semi-regular From The North feature When Doctors Meet It Is A Humbling Experience: Number eleven. 'I'd like to accept this award on behalf of all the others who didn't turn up. And, on behalf of m'colleague, who is only here in a purely physical sense on account of all the product he may or may not have shovelled up his snitch in the toilets beforehand. I couldn't possibly comment.'
When Doctors Meet It Is A Humbling Experience: Number twelve. Now, there's something you don't see every day, three Doctors and the missus.
When Doctors Meet It Is A Humbling Experience: Number thirteen. 'Look, this is legitimate theatre, take it seriously, will you!'
When Doctors Meet It Is A Humbling Experience: Number fourteen. Dunno about anybody else, but this blogger normally can't stand family get-togethers.
When Doctors Meet It Is A Humbling Experience: Number fifteen. 'Speak up, young man. I lost my hearing in The War.'
When Doctors Meet It Is A Humbling Experience: Number sixteen. 'Now, I like Christopher Eccleston. And, I like Matt Smith. But, which one is best? There's only one way to sort this out ... FIGHT!!!'
When Doctors Meet It Is A Humbling Experience: Number seventeen. God, dear bloggerisationism readers, Crosby, Stills & Nash are certainly showing their age these days, are they not?
When Doctors Meet It Is A Humbling Experience: Number eighteen. 'Free to those that can afford it, very expensive to those that can't!'
When Doctors Meet It Is A Humbling Experience: Number nineteen. Aww.
When Doctors Meet It Is A Humbling Experience: Number twenty. 'Oh, dad-in-law! Not in front of all the nice fans ...'
When Doctors Meet It Is A Humbling Experience: Number twenty one. 'So then, right, Jon turned around and they were all wearing eyepatches!'
When Doctors Meet It Is A Humbling Experience: Number twenty two. 'Unhand me, Madam.'
When Doctors Meet It Is A Humbling Experience: Number twenty three. 'You lookin' at me?'
When Doctors Meet It Is A Humbling Experience: Number twenty tour. 'I thought you were great in The Curse Of Fatal Death.' 'So did some Welsh fellow, apparently. Odd chap.'
When Doctors Meet It Is A Humbling Experience: Number twenty five. ... with a fiend (or, two if you count the Dalek).
When Doctors Meet It Is A Humbling Experience: Number twenty six. Good film, that.
When David Tennants Meet It Is A Humbling Experience: Number twenty seven.
When Doctors Meet It Is A Humbling Experience: Number twenty eight. 'Yes, yes, very good both of you. But, lose the beards, eh.'
When Doctors Meet It Is A Humbling Experience: Number twenty nine. The live-action remake of Crystal Tipps & Alistair was not considered a success.
When Doctors Meet It Is A Humbling Experience: Number thirty. Five Doctors In Tea Scandal (Pictures). How Slyv can manage to hang on to that cup when a hamster has, clearly, just run up his trouser leg, is a question perhaps best left for another day.
When Doctors Meet It Is A Humbling Experience: Number thirty one. Well, it's definitely nice to see that they are still getting good use out of the Tom Baker waxwork, seemingly.
When Doctors Meet It Is A Humbling Experience: Number thirty two. 'Let's assemble a cabinet.'
When Doctors Meet It Is A Humbling Experience: Number thirty three. The final of the Which Doctor Can Nut A Coke Can Till It Begs For Mercy competition had entered the two hundred and fifty sixth hour and showed no signs of ending any time soon.
Nestlé axes classic Breakaway bar after fifty four years according to a screamed headline on the BBC News website. This! Will! Not! Stand! This blogger should, of course, point out there are still plenty available in the shops for the time being - he himself bought two six-packs yesterday on his way back home from town. But, they won't last forever and, when they're gone, they're gone.
Taste, bloggerisaitonism fiends. You've either got it or, you know, you haven't got it. That there Young Martin Freeman, dear blog readers, he's got it. Those five LPs on display are a pretty useful critical summation of Martin's freely acknowledged tastes, let it be noted. This blogger is aware, from interviews, that he is an 'uge fan of The Be-Atles (a popular beat combo of the 1960s, you might've heard of them), a massive Motown fan (he even did a rather good documentary for the BBC in 2009 where he got to go out to Detroit and hang out at Hitsville), a major fan (and a close personal fiend) of The Goddamn Modfather his very self (he even got The Weller Fellah a cameo in the final episode of Sherlock), an old Mod and a Two-Tone fanatic. Which, let's face it, is a pretty good start to anyone's record collection if you've got those five bases covered.
So, dear blog reader, this was a very sad evening. Saturday 10 February was the last night of The Royal Sky before it closed its doors. It will be sorely missed. Particularly, by this when blogger when he fancies beef chow mein. Or chicken curry. Or cha sui with Chinese mushrooms. Or salt and chilli king prawns with yung-chow fried rice. Or gravy and chips for that matter. You get the general idea.
'You'll have to go back to making your own, Keith,' Our Maureen Telly Topping noted. True, that. Well, there's is another takeaway a little bit further away along Welbeck Road which is still just about within limping distance of The Stately Telly Topping Manor (they do particularly good chips there, as it happens). And then, of course, there is another one in Waalsend (which delivers) and they're quite nice too. The only downside with the latter is that, as previously mentioned on this very blog, the flat above the takeaway is the gaff where The Dreadful Odious Horrorshow that is Sting was born. And, therefore, everything this blogger eats from there, no matter how good it is, he usually gets indigestion as a consequence. You win some, dear blog readers, you lose some.
But still, when you find a really good local takeaway and for, whatever reason, they cease operation (as it happens, in this case the family that has run it for the last ten years are retiring) then it's a sad day for all concerned. The place will be taken over by someone else, eventually, since the family only rented the gaff. But, whenever someone new takes over an eating establishment that you like, you're never quite sure what you're going to get. Fingers crossed, the new management may be okay. The same place has, already, undergone one change of ownership about a decade ago and it retained its identity then (in fact, the chicken that the owners-before-the-present used in their chicken curry pissed all over the current version. Big, 'uge thick chunks, so they were ... Ah, happy days!)
So, of course, what's a chap to do in such circumstances? Well, firstly, have his first meal out in town in a couple of months with his fine fiend Young Malcolm Hunter at the Little Asia. And very tasty it was too. Chicken and sweetcorn soup with prawn crackers to kick-off whilst we discussed the latest output from Talking Pictures TV.
Then, sesame prawn toast with sweet and sour sauce as we focused on what's being broadcast on ITV4 in the afternoons, these days.
And then, king prawn and mushroom curry with egg-fried rice and a nice glass of iced water as we moved on to favourite British horror movies of the 1960s and 70s. Followed by coffee and a productive discussion about the career of Mike Pratt, the role of Lew Grade in the history of The Be-Atles (a popular beat combo of the 1960s, you might've heard of them) and the British B-movie oeuvre in general.
Of course, inevitably, this blogger had to prove to his fiends and relatives that he could, actually, survive when deprived of his regular takeaway habit and that he's not a complete duck-egg when it comes to actually preparing something worth eating. So, dear blog readers, that'll be lamb garlic tikka masala with basmati rice, apple, shallots, Chinese mushrooms, lemon, lime and honey and mixed spices for Us Dinner at The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House on Saturday, then? If anyone is interested in the recipe, first one cooks the lamb (about forty minutes or thereabouts at two hundred degrees); then, when cooked, allow it to rest on a plate. Boil some rice (twenty to twenty five minutes) whilst chopping a shallot (or an onion if you prefer) and half-an-apple and then shallow fry both in a frying pan until they are golden brown (texture like sun). Then, chop up the meat and place in a pan, add some garlic paste and then (now golden brown, texture like sun) onion and apple, your sauce of choice, the mushrooms, one teaspoon of lime juice, one teaspoon of lemon (this blogger uses lemon curd but you can use lemon juice or even an actual lemon if you're really flash), one spoon of honey, some ground black peppercorn, a sprinkling of paprika, some chopped parsley (again, this blogger uses dried flakes but, if you've actual got green stuff in your fridge, ooo get you, sexy), coriander (same), a splash of soy sauce and a pinch of salt (onion salt granules recommended). Allow to marinate for about twenty minutes whilst the rice is boiling. Then heat - it should take about ten to fifteen minutes, stirring continuously. Drain the rice. Serve. You should get a good three portions at least (maybe four). This is just to prove, of course, that this blogger does have some capabilities, contrary to popular belief.
On Monday for Us Dinner at The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House, it was sweet chilli stir-fry chicken and charizo with mushrooms and apple. Similar recipe to Saturday's for those taking notes (hi, Kelly!); except this time, this blogger had run out of shallots so it was just an ordinary onion instead. Similarly, he used Morrisons sliced mushrooms rather than whole Chinese mushrooms and, also, there was the addition of a charizo which he found lurking, all naked and afraid, at the back of the fridge. But, the rest of the prep was more-or-less the same; lime juice, lemon, honey, soy sauce, ground black pepper, paprika, garlic paste, parsley, coriander et cetera. Also, this time, he added a pinch of turmeric and a tiny bit of ginger powder to give it a smidgen of a kick (that usually goes well with charizo, Keith Telly Topping has found). Basmati rice, some salt and Bob's yer Auntie's live-in lover, dearest bloggerisationism fiends, another Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House recipe triumph.
As the legend that was Desmond Dekker once said, 'me git up de mah-nin, slavin' fa breksa, so dat ev'ry mouse can be fed, wo-ah, oh-oh, me ears are alight.' Or, on Tuesday morning, in Keith Telly Topping's case, 'me git up in de mah-nin, do me shopping at Morrisons and then have me breksa.' Which was a necessary difference one feels, Des me auld cock sparra.
And then, with the inevitability of the inevitable, we come to Wednesday's Today For Us Dinner at The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House malarkey. And, this blogger was thinking something along the lines of garlic and king prawns in spring onion and oyster sauce with chestnut mushrooms, apple, lemon, lime and chives and all the usual herbs and spices. It was large, dearest bloggerisationism fiends.
Keith Telly Topping let it be noted, is quite partial to a nice lamb chop. And, it would seem, he's not along on that score. Of course, according to the laws of Karma which he vocally advocated for many, many years, George, therefore, should've come back as a sheep. In which case, happy birthday for 25 February, Flossie.
After all, when all is said and done, whom amongst us doesn't enjoy a nice tasty portion of hot minge? This blogger knows that he, certainly, does. Nowt better, in fact.
And finally, dear blog readers, let's have the From The North Headline of The Week award which, this time around, goes to the Metro (so, not a real newspaper) for Kilt-Wearing Pervert Caught Shoving Antique Items Up His Bum.
Although, that said, the News Shopper deserves an honourable mentionette for Dartford Postbox Painted Like Crème Egg In Criminal Damage' Spree. If only for the accompanying photo. You've got to admit, he (or she, if it's a lady-girl paint-wielding hooligan) has certainly got the colour-scheme spot on.
