In Appreciation of House of Games

House of Games recently has become our chosen programme to watch whilst eating our supper, Monday to Friday. We usually only watch one episode of 25 minutes. It is light, we can join in and there is unlikely to be anything that puts us off our tea.

I think it has a sort of liturgical function. It is the same thing at the same time every day. It follows a varied, yet strict format.

Four minor celebrities, with occasional space for a national treasure, answer questions over five rounds. The first round is usually for each player in turn and has a few easier questions to gift points and confidence. Other rounds are clever and reward different types of thinking beyond plain general knowledge. For instance an answer may have to be given backwards, or with the words in alphabetical order. The 16 rounds are repeated week by week, although the order varies. The last round each day is always the same - Answer Smash. Here the questions are in two parts and the end of the answer to part one is the beginning of the answer to part two. Contestants must only give the duplicated bit once and 'smash' the answers into each other. This gives answers such as Malcolm McDonald Duck or Ring of Fireball XL5. The jeopardy of Answer Smash is increased as it is the only round where a point can be lost for a wrong answer, thus allowing gaps to be made up on the leaders if they are over hasty.

This principle is extended on Friday when points for a win are doubled 1,2,3,4 becomes 2,4,6,8 and again allows gaps to be made up.

Groans greet any 'new' round like a new hymn in a church service.

Our knowledge of current TV, especially soap is poor. We are not good at identifying people from pictures. We do not know the names of today's pop artists although the programme digs back well into popular music's past.

We laugh at how poor these minor celebrities are at geography or guessing historical dates. The younger ones obviously think that inventions of the early twentieth or late nineteenth century could have happened in the 1970s or 80s. History is before I was born syndrome.

I like to imagine I take one of the chairs and answer that contestant's questions to see if I could win. I usually do OK.

Daily prizes are red, with a House of Games logo on a regular item such as a bread bin, salt and pepper shaker or rucksack. Each week the dart board and the wheelie luggage are popular. Weekly winners get a trophy. A couple of times per series there is a redemption week for those who did OK but won nothing in a previous week. And a champions' week for previous winners where the daily prizes and trophy are gold(ish).

Richard Osman has presented it for nine years but is now to hand over to Michael Sheen. The current logo is an avatar of Osman's face and each of the contestants is given a similar avatar - basically a black and white caricature of their key facial features.

I imagine that each week is filmed in a day with guests changing clothes between episodes and trying to remember to refer to yesterday rather than an hour ago. Osman's clothes change very little - white shirt, polo neck, polo shirt, blue shirt, always with jeans and jacket. He has good patter and can gently encourage the disappointing 'You've got a win in you this week surely?' He can also prick the bubbles of pomposity that occasionally break out, always with a twinkle in his eye. Things that need moving on from are moved on from professionally. It is the sort of consummate broadcasting I admire very much.

It will probably take Sheen a while to get his feet under the table. Like a new Rector in church people are happy with a change in personality but want to continue recognising the format.

We don't watch the programme live. It is all on the BBC iplayer so we just watch the next episode we haven't watched. Given that we have holidays and time away for other things it means our gap between series is shorter than the live watchers' experience.

I once laughed at our next door neighbours in Leamington, an older couple, when we realised they had recorded Big Break, as the Snooker Loopy theme tune was playing out of the window long after it had finished. Are we like them now? It's different, but I couldn't tell you how.

The point? You were expecting a point were you? I've told you about that. To humour you, how about this:

Writers have a complex relationship with repetition. Sometimes its rhetorical use can be extremely effective. I was tired. I was hungry. I was dirty. I was thirsty. I was almost out of hope. I was rescued. That's not my finest work but you can hear the effect.

But although I like some of the repetition in liturgy it is the tendency for it to change slightly by season that makes it effective for me. It is the theological equivalent of a screen-saver.

It makes me poor at saying 'I love you' and always looking for other ways to put it. Turns out people prefer the mantra to word-play. When I say it, because I perceive that the other person will appreciate it, it costs me. My life is an internal monologue of Just a Minute and that loses points.

On Easter Sunday we use the versicle and response:

Priest: Christ has risen!

All: He has risen indeed. Alleluia!

I dislike it. I want my affirmations more nuanced than that. As a famous piece of spoof liturgy once said:

Priest: Christ is risen

All: Quick, sit down, he's starting

That service would have my attention.

Review of the Year

For the last six months I've been posting a weekly Facebook link to my highlights of the week in popular culture. Or maybe unpopular culture would be better? You know me.

On balance it is worth doing this as well though. I like trying to work out what was the best of the year, especially last year which didn't have many bests in it.

Music

My favourite individual tunes of 2020 are on this link to Spotify. It seems to have been a year when my spirits were raised by three chords and jangly guitars. Nowt wrong with that.

For album of the year I often struggle. New music is simply music you haven't heard before. As I do not listen to much radio I quite often 'discover' music that's been around a bit. Which meant it was great to find the Billy Franks' back catalogue and Man Alive by The 4 of Us (which I had on cassette in the car in the 1990s) make their way onto Spotify. But that said I enjoyed:

EOB - Earth

Foals - Collected Remixes

HAIM - Women in Music Pt. III 

Khruangbin - Mordecai

Surprise Chef - All News is Good News

Westerman - Your Hero is Not Dead

Zapatilla - Zapatilla

Reading

I read more books in 2020 than any year since records began (1988). But how many were written in 2020? Not many. Plaudits to:

Fiction

Andrew Hunter Murray - The Last Day

Daisy Johnson - Sisters

Catherine Lacey - Pew

Fact

Adam Rutherford - How to Argue with a Racist

Screen

In TV/Film I caught up with many box-sets during lock-down using a Prime subscription and latterly Netflix. Like many others our favourite film of the year was Armando Iannucci's spirit-lifting The Personal History of David Copperfield.

But I found the year much-improved by Better Call Saul, Peaky Blinders, Bones (plots become increasingly improbable by Season 5), The Good Fight and Brokenwood.

Food

Wapping Wharf

I only had three or four meals out all year but all were nice. My usual haunt of WB at Wapping Wharf is always good but Gambas Tapas just along from there is also excellent.

I missed my couple of times a year at the Pony and Trap at Chew but found the yurt version at Breaking Bread on the Downs very acceptable for a wedding anniversary. In April the Pony and Trap at Chew is changing its focus to a foraging and training centre with meals for volunteers on the estate. But they are opening a restaurant in Bedminster. Hooray.

Clifton Downs Yurts

On a north Wales holiday I discovered that Cadwaladers ice-cream in Criccieth was as good as ever. Also that Grasmere Gingerbread can be mail-ordered.

Here's to better things to review away from home in 2021.

Review of the Year

2017 was a weird year and it has taken me a month to work out how I want to summarise it. It was a year in which I carried a deep and underlying feeling of melancholy. Firstly sadness that the strongest nation on earth should step back from leading, pioneering and guiding and unashamedly put itself first as a slogan. Secondly sadness that our own nation continues to step back from co-operation, sharing and stepping forward together with other nations in favour of the more aggressive, and surely eventually doomed, policy of taking back control. It was a bad year.

To make a mess of a metaphor, in the shadow of this are my highlights:

I was very grateful to Stuart Maconie for a throwaway comment on BBC 6 Music last month - 'New music' he said '...is music you haven't heard before.' He said this in response to a reader thanking him for introducing him to The Lemonheads.

With that in mind I note my Spotify algorithm introduced me to a lot of new music last year but not much of it from 2017 albums. But I pick out the following bands or artists I enjoyed for the first time:

Ultimate Painting

The Vryll Society

Wolf People

Beyond the Wizard's Sleeve

Mark Pritchard

Death Hawks

Sinkane

In a year in which I had three months sabbatical leave a lot of reading was catching up. Lee Child and Chris Brookmyre kept me page-turning when that was necessary. As did Robert Harris' Conclave. Tim Marshall's Prisoners of Geography educated me, James Rebanks' The Shepherd's Life moved me, John Lanchester's Capital impressed me, Paul Beatty's The Sellout made me think, Stanley Donwood's Slowly Downward worried me, as did John Sopel's If Only They Didn't Speak English but for different reasons. I finally read Peter Carey's True History of the Kelly Gang and it is one of the finest books I have ever read.

Podcasts were a new thing for 2017. I started with the wonderful S-Town and moved on through Serial 1 and 2. This led me to subscribe to the excellent This American Life. I now regularly listen to The Political Party and Richard Herring's Leicester Square Theatre Podcast. I dip into Rob Bell's The Robcast but find it annoying that he crams 20 minute's material into an hour. My heroes really shouldn't do this.

Honourable mentions to 50 Things That Made the Modern Economy, The Infinite Monkey Cage, Crowd Science and More or Less, all of which were catch-ups rather than Podcasts.

Spent less time at the movies than I would have liked to (Ghost in the Shell good fun) but enjoyed DVD Scandi-noir a lot - Follow the Money, The Bridge, The Killing I, II and III. Line of Duty was also excellent.

Any year that we see Stewart Lee perform live he is going to be the best comedy gig and he was. David Sedaris reading his stuff was a good evening out. Music gigs were thin but Laura Marling supported by the excellent Ethan Johns was good. I enjoyed Ghostpoet but not The Marble Factory setting in Bristol.


Sad to see the end of The Barn pub at Wraxall. Coates House, Nailsea now gets our custom. Bordeau Quay in Bristol bit the dust (it had been going down for a while) but the Pony and Trap at Chew Magna goes from strength to strength as does WB at Wapping Wharf.

Grayson Perry's The Most Popular Art Exhibition Ever! at the Arnolfini was insightful, moving and strived to explain the two parts of divided Britain to each other.

Here's to more and better culture in 2018.

Empathy

We began to watch the much-trailed new TV series, Gunpowder on Saturday. Opening, as it did, with the horrific scene of the cruel execution of a Catholic woman for treason (hiding a Jesuit Priest) we chose to turn over. Maybe it is an age thing but I find it less and less entertaining, or helpful, to have to watch inhumanity.

Recently a song I love stopped me in my tracks. I must have sung When I Survey the Wondrous Cross a thousand times. I have even performed it.

I love lines such as:

Love so amazing, so divine
Demands my life, my soul, my all.

But I realised, for the first time, that I didn't like the word wondrous. Which victim of execution, looking towards the gallows, would be glad to imagine the method of  their destruction becoming an object of worship?

Gratefulness better than gaudiness, methinks. When I survey the empty cross, anyone?

Time for a bit of a rethink maybe. The writers of Gunpowder say they wanted the viewers to understand the level of anger that led to the Gunpowder Plot. Did it need to be that graphic? Reviewers are divided. I think they could have demonstrated the cruelty with more dialogue and less  screaming. Sometimes a cutaway says more than a lingering camera.

So why is this about empathy? In Karen Armstrong's excellent Twelve Steps to a Compassionate Life she has a chapter on empathy and shares this quote:

'...when we look at the crucifix, our hearts break in sympathy and fellow-feeling - and it is this interior movement of compassion and instinctive empathy that saves us.'
(Peter Abelard)

Now I imagine my extremist evangelical reader has probably gone elsewhere now, but should any new ones be around I know that we are saved externally, not by any action of our own. By grace and by God. But take a moment to ponder that any saving that has happened round here was not worth a thing without a response that makes the world less a place of suffering and more a place of love.

Eurovision

In case there are those who do not follow my live tweets/FB on Eurovision here is the feed from last night. Thanks to those who joined in.

Happy to be offering the usual service of watching #Eurovision2017 so you don't have to. Expect sincerity without diplomacy.




'Expect repetitive flashing images'; music not dissimilar #Eurovision2017




Did everyone get the 'wear black or white' memo? Who was meant to tell Spain? #Eurovision2017




Comedy timing hard in a second language - don't think timing is all our three hosts need though #Eurovision2017




Let's start out with depress mode #Israel feels alive? a liar? a lot? #Eurovision2017




'No one has ever won from position number 2.' Song and dress mainly see-through plus wind, smoke and fiddler #Poland #Eurovision2017




Predicted text prefers walrus to #Belarus hey hey hi i i o o #Eurovision2017




Running on air you can push me down but I'll just get up again. How that work? #Austria #Eurovision2017




#Armenia #Eurovision2017 Already forgotten it. Will probably win.




And welcome the key change please. Big voices. #Netherlands #Eurovision2017




Dresses which got bigger. There's a novelty. Mamma mamma don't bistro now #Moldova #Eurovision2017




Lone dancer, lone fiddler, flames, rap in native tongue and Gareth Bale's missing topknot #Hungary #Eurovision2017




I'm sure those backdrop images were on my doctor's wall yesterday. One or two words in Italian. Dreadful. #Italy #Eurovision2017



Never ever wear a frock in a waterfall. You won't have to sing 'You know where I am' #Denmark #Eurovision2017




Please return my jacket to 1986 and the song to My Fair Lady #Portugal #Eurovision2017




A ladder, a chalkboard and a song about a skeleton. Man with animal head at top of ladder. What could go wrong? #Azerbaijan #Eurovision2017




A man of many parts. None of them small. #Croatia #Eurovision2017




Who knew eyebrow paint was a thing? Everyone has it. But only #Australia have clown shoes and a love that don't come cheap #Eurovision2017




That's the worst response to 'Guys, give yourselves a cheer' I have ever heard #Eurovision2017




The Eurobynumbers department decrees an annual 'throw everything at it' tune. #Greece #Eurovision2017




Never heard it before and got the drum-join bang on. Clap your hands and do it for your lover. #Spain #Eurovision2017




When changing key always agree the key to change to #Eurovision2017




#Norway #Eurovision2017 When it's all or nuffin, put your nerves in the coffin. Cool.




Here's the Brexit test. OK but Midge Ure did it better #UK #Eurovision2017




Let me be your gravity. Science lesson needed. Song not without merit. #Cyprus #Eurovision2017




Rap and yodel. No. Come back. Come back. #Romania #Eurovision2017




The four favourite Euro chords - rhythm Every Breath You Take by The Police. Stands a chance. #Germany #Eurovision2017




Band piercing a plenty. Song less so. Heavy man. #Ukraine #Eurovision2017




Quite under-stated. Nice. Bit like a theme tune to scandinoir #Belgium #Eurovision2017




Is it OK to say frickin? #Eurovision2017




Frickin slick or is it freakin? Tune Beverley Hills Flop #Sweden #Eurovision2017




Quite an accomplished performance for 17. Stands a chance. #Bulgaria #Eurovision2017




Changed direction faster than a Compass in a magnet factory. Legs should win some votes. #France #Eurovision2017




Well done Ukraine for hammering through 26 songs in two hours #Eurovision2017




We're still loved by Iceland then. Trying to hold off the cod war #Eurovision2017




I think a new tension-cranking device has been introduced #Eurovision2017

To finish, I was delighted to spot that Bulgaria stood a chance. They came second. Had no idea that Portugal would walk it. Enjoyed the new voting system so you genuinely don't know who will be winning until right near the end.

Eurovision 2016

'I like to live tweet comments on Eurovision. The Twitter feed makes it all worthwhile. Here are all the comments together:

In preparation for #Eurovision  I am listening to the surprising and awesome beauty of A Moon Shaped Pool.

If you want to join in my fun then I will be using #Eurovison

Easier to say, 'One or two moments may not contain flashing images.' #Eurovison

Belgium. Another one bites the disco. Several important pop clichés. Acceptable. #Eurovison

Czech Republic starts with 'I've made mistakes with the monsters in my head'. Self-fulfilling prophecy?  #Eurovison

Netherlands - 'I'm going nowhere and I'm going fast' an equally apposite opening. Piano playing different notes to the pianist.  #Eurovison

Azerbaijan - amazing lighting but 'Gonna take a Miracle'. Male dancers request pictures of their outfits are deleted at midnight. #Eurovison

Hungary - when you hit something that hard you really expect a noise. No key changes yet but welcome to whistling. #Eurovison

Italy - first non-English song? Oh no. She changed half-way through. Tuning issues. #Eurovison

Israel - We are all made of stars? Breathy. Not Moby though #Eurovison

Bulgaria - criminal trousers, bit of an Irish whistle, not as catchy as we were led to expect. In fact unhumable #Eurovison

France - I thought the French were down on English. Sorry doesn't rhyme with glory. Bit catchy. #Eurovison

Oops. @judemunday tells me that was Sweden not France but he was called Frans. You drop your guard for a moment... #Eurovison

Germany - she's wearing ALL the clothes #Eurovison

Sure this is France now. Woo oo oo oo oo always goes down well in the arena. Half in English too. Got a chance but that last note #Eurovison

Poland How does a country get to the point where it thinks this best represents them? Key-change, frock-coat and hell of a hairdo #Eurovison

Australia - strong voice but song sucked. Doubt if #Eurovison will be at 4.00 a.m. next year.

Cyprus, trying anything to lose the Greek vote. A bit of rock in the jolly Foreigner sort of way.  #Eurovison

Serbia - this is such complete, pure Eurodross I expect it will win. Big ballad with a key change. #Eurovison

Lithuania - I blame Gary Barlow. Got a chance. #Eurovison

Croatia - #Eurovison audiences can be dangerous but wearing an ammo-pouch is a bit OTT. Oh wait. Someone undressed her a bit.

Russia - coming to a hotel pool during your holiday every day this summer. Clever visuals. Key change. Winner so far. #Eurovison

Spain - not for me but loads of energy and lots of stabbed keys as expected in Eurodisco #Eurovison

Latvia - nice to have a different synth sound, this one as per 1980s Japan; rest a bit predictable #Eurovison

How do you end up with a diagonal vpl? #Eurovison

Ukraine - this is really good. Dubstep beat. Anxious vocal. No chance. #Eurovison

I love Malta but they put a lot of pressure on the relationship. #Eurovison

Georgia - what Oasis would have sounded like without the Gallaghers #Eurovison

Austria -   Before singing SAW stuff like this you must be in a soap for five years. It's the rules. #Eurovison

UK - really nice tune. Take That feel. One of the best chord sequences of the night. #Eurovison

Armenia - lots of female solo singers this year? Big lungs and a fiddle. #Eurovison

So I like Belgium, Sweden, Russia, Ukraine and UK #Eurovison

It takes 26 #Eurovison tunes to make you realise Justin Timberlake has talent. Respect.

This spoof is the best thing since my own #Eurovison song in 2006:

La la la got force fed in

And my sweet song became a din

Should win.

Before this next tweet can I just say what a brilliant job you've done and what a great show it's been #Eurovison

Just to remind you I said:

Ukraine - this is really good. Dubstep beat. Anxious vocal. No chance. #Eurovison

Crazy, crazy competition.

We meet next year in Ukraine.

The Brits

The DVD remote had broken. That was the only reason folks. Yes I know it was a lifetime vow and I am sorry. I won't do it again. What? Write about it? Yes of course I will write about it. I feel it would be letting people down not to.

So, circumstances conspired to make watching The Brits necessary last night. For those who don't keep up, this is a satirical comedy programme about popular music. It is the industry's shop window of self-congratulation assisted by the children of Sun readers.

First the set. On stage there was a massive posse; a group of dancer/backer/on-hanger people who saved having to pay too much for backdrop. The arena was set out with a clear demarcation between the scrubbed and the unscrubbed. The celebrities, nominees and Simon Cowell sat around tables drinking champers. The hoi polloi were in the tiered seating heading back several miles. The tables were decorated such that an overhead shot appeared to be of a full box of chocolates.

The presenters were that well known duo PJ and Duncan, child actors from Byker Grove who had a hit once and managed to get nominated for a Brit for it. Since then they have made a living out of being professional Geordies Ant and Dec though no-one has any idea, without thinking about it, which one is Donnelly and which McPartlain, which little and which large and which of the two is the funny one. Come to think of it they may have been existing as a comedy duo with two straight men for some years.

From time to time comedians are put on stage to introduce awards. The wise ones (stand up John Bishop) make no attempts at humour but announce the winner, hand over the ugly statuette, and run off with the fee. The unwise (need I tell you this year it was Jimmy Carr again) make jokes about Madge's HRT supplies at which no-one laughs. The sound of thousands of weird people not laughing at once is an awesome one. A sort of silence of the odds. This effect was also used in auto-muting the vocal when Kanye West said something naughty. Since the backing track was not that complex, and the software pulled a bit of the music through the black hole too, and almost all the song was naughty, the effect was amazing. Norman Collier eat your heart out. That is how to do the faulty mic routine.

Hello darkness my old friend.

I drop in to the Brits every ten years or so and always search for the word which describes my reaction. It is like watching an amateur at a country fair having a go at dry-stone walling. Unassisted they would make a wonky edifice with no lasting potential whatsoever but you would be compelled to stop and stare. Come to think of it that is a genius analogy.

I began some time in the 1980s with Sam Fox, Mick Fleetwood and the dodgy autocue.

I revisited for Jarvis Cocker and the Michael Jackson protest.

Given my delight in the best of contemporary music it is always strange to hear nominees for awards of whom I have never heard, my home, car and life being Radio 1 free zones.

I usually wonder which audience elimination programme they won. Sam Smith. Sorry mate but who are you?

George Ezra sang his song.

The interviews involve telling people what a great year they've had, a statement with which they agree. 'It's been mad'. Then asking them how drunk they intend to get at the after-show party which is a great witness to the children of Sun readers.

The headline - Oh My God it's only Madonna - sang a song so dreadfully forgettable that after a few bars one of the backing singers grabbed her by the cloak and pulled her off stage. He failed to follow up with the Vulcan death grip or a blow to the head with an empty champers bottle so she got up and carried on.

This, in a world of warfare, political machinations and fascinating debates about the future of democracy, was the third item on ITV's self-generating news programme which followed.

I am going to buy some more batteries for the DVD remote today.

Tomorrow - the Kardashian bottom debate (cont'd)

Eurovision 2014

For the benefit of those not on Twitter here is the feed from Saturday night:

Ukraine 'My heart is like a dodgem singing underground.' Hamster wheel but no hamster.

Belarus have a tune and good hair. Boy banned.

I always find a trapeze adds a lot to a song.

Shawaddyreykjavik

Norway. This guy has piercings and tattoos. Probably had his soul pierced.

Welcome to the first key change of the evening. Should have decided which key to change to though.

So that's where all the depleted uranium went.

I expected the line 'You'll be wondering what I've done with your singer.' Montenegro

Marks deducted for ice skating.

You only get a point if you keep the national dress on for the whole song.

This is a Carry-on film matron. Poland.

Greekrap

Does bearded lady count as circus skills? #inappropriate Austria

Quick bass lesson - hold down at the top, pluck at the bottom. (A Twitter bass-player took issue with this, but they missed the point.)

Coda of German song was her Voice audition.

Apparently Sweden was a great song well performed. What do I know?

Le Jedward. France.

Conjoined hair. Unlucky. Russia.

Italy. O Remus negative

Iceland winning in the room so far.

Is there such a thing as gratuitous contortion?

The Spanish monsoon season has influenced this highly.

Switzerland. Quite like this.

Breathy vocal. Running, running, running. Asthmatic.

Malta'd images.

The Danish IT crowd. I love you, you're a peachy baby.

Every step you take.

Bond chord change. Nobody does it better.

The results of the Vynes Way jury. It looks bad for Poland.

Poland came last in the room with -11. Iceland won with 9

We voted for you. Please don't invade.

The whole country just shouted 'France has a point.' First time for everything.

Every time the camera catches the Austrian performer we deduct points retrospectively for fake tears.

Planning the Viennese food for next year.

Weird dream. Ice skating hamsters singing out of key backed by bearded lady on a circular piano, playing a bass upside-down.

Rev

It is a brave comedy that chooses not to be funny. Plot spoiling follows. Beware.

Last week's episode of Rev showed the Revd Adam Smallbone conducting an illegal gay marriage; having gone to great lengths not to, yet being told off for it anyway, he eventually did conduct such a service, although we were shown it to be done in apparent secret.

In the latest episode his attraction to the local school head-teacher, at a time when he and his wife are struggling with their sexual relationship, takes him to the brink of adultery.

Later, faced with an art installation in the church which manages to confront his 'sin', although it isn't intended to, he destroys it. But he has misinterpreted it. The installation is not Adam and the teacher but the artist, shown in a clerical collar, and his late wife. In breaking the work Adam loses the benefaction of the artist who would have solved the church's financial problems at a stroke. Again and again, the suggestion is, the church shoots itself in the foot.

So we are shown a church that has got so messed up about relationships that it has to skirt around the issue of gay marriage yet smashes an image of a powerful, but lamented, heterosexual relationship. And I think that is what the programme is saying is funny. Not funny ha ha but funny peculiar. Funny odd. Funny for Christ sake sort yourselves out. We want to laugh but it won't let us.

The national church I belong to is slow-moving, confused, pre-occupied by sex and full of pastors who are not leaders. It is stuck with raising huge sums of money for the retention of unsuitable buildings. From ground level hierarchy can seem frustrating. How does Adam get so much of his Archdeacon's time? My archdeacon is one of my best friends and I never get taken anywhere in a taxi. I am left to get on with it and everyone hopes I will not cock things up too much. Or be successful. Because that is just as awkward.

After a ten year incumbency the message that keeps everyone happy is to return the church to the bishop exactly as you found it.

I love this show. It holds a big mirror up to the church and tells it to stop being hopeless. That it takes a TV comedy show to do that is really funny.

Breaking Bad

I've finished. Box-set parts 4 and 5 passed very quickly and I loved it. It's been a blast.

Enough has been written in praise of this excellent series, cleverly conceived, brilliantly written and superbly acted. So I'd like to have a wee ponder about the nature of the 'bad' in the title. No major plot spoilers follow but I will talk about character development which involves giving a little away.

The premise, in case you haven't been paying attention, is that Walter White, a chemistry teacher, is diagnosed with lung cancer. Seeking to leave his family secure he stumbles across the possibility of manufacturing pure methamphetamine (crystal meth) with a former pupil, Jesse, as his partner and guy with the contacts in the bad, bad world.

The series is a comedy drama. This may be controversial but it is. The mistake most comedy dramas make is to try and be funny first and dramatic as an add-on. The best ones, and Breaking Bad is the best ever, are dramatic but the comedy is all black as black can be. The characters descend into greater and greater levels of evil. They do things consequent upon their previous actions that nobody normal would choose to do. And that is funny. Thus we laugh at things that aren't really amusing, probably as a defence mechanism? Or maybe there is a Shakespearean quality to the bad-things-happening-to-bad-people funniness.

Walt begins by genuinely wanting to help his family but we watch him begin to inhabit his evil character and carry out worse and worse atrocities 'for the sake of his family'. Each bad act has to be covered. He finds, and seems to enjoy, his ruthless side. He comments towards the end that he has felt more alive in his criminal life whilst terminally ill, than ever before.

Jesse is a druggie and a no-hoper but he cares for people. He is the one moved by the deaths of the innocent along the way. He tries to escape the drug-world on several occasions but finds it has its teeth into him.

Walt's wife Skyler appears to stand for purity and innocence. Everyone believes the best of her. She is always immaculately dressed but, bit by bit, she suspends her wondering about the origins of Walt's money in order to secure her future. Love disappears from their relationship but practicality keeps them together. As the first series opens she is pregnant. The child that is eventually born spends many episodes being tugged between two adults. We wonder who she will grow into. Can Skyler keep up the pretence? And keep quiet? She begins by challenging a boss about false accounting. She ends laundering money through her own business.

Walt and Jesse end up crossing paths with a variety of low-life petty criminals and druggies as well as some serious players in the world of organised crime and drug trafficking. Most of them watch their backs, or are so evil they don't care who gets in the way. One character, introduced late, Todd, offers death and suffering to all and sundry with a permanent semi-smile. Is this what it is like to have no conscience?

Walt and Jesse use the services of Lawyer Saul 'Just Call Saul' who gets things done, deviously and illegally but with a front to the operation that is totally legit. He introduces them to Mike, who cleans up mess. Sometimes he has to mess people up to clean up. Bad is often improved by different bad. People in prison can be recruited to murder. New identities can be bought. Bad money can be kept safe.

Walt Junior has cerebral palsy. It is an interesting play as the only other character with something desperately bad to live with turns out to be morally superior almost every step of the way.

Marie is Skyler's sister and struggles, as we meet her, with kleptomania. It is her 'bad' but it fades as the series progress and we find her intent on the good of her family. But she comes over as devious and manipulative in the way she obtains her wishes. She hangs very loose to any promises of confidentiality she keeps.

Hank, the lead police investigator, a determined man, is married to Marie and so the set-up is that he is Walt's brother-in-law. This leads to him swallowing, for the most part, all of Walt's lies and misdirects about his behaviour. Eventually he has to face the truth, that admitting he failed to see the serious crime being committed in his own family will cost him his job.

What is the bad without which this series wouldn't have worked?

Is it that most people become manipulable in the face of huge sums of money? Is it that we would all go to great lengths to protect our family? Is it the US health-care system which leads two characters to obtain their healing using dishonestly obtained money? Is it that people find life so low that many are looking to pay money for a high? Is it that once on the bottom rung of 'bad' you will not be able to climb down?

Some discussion questions maybe?

Broadchurch

Enjoyed Broadchurch wrapping up last night, a TV series that has been grown-up, has not ducked the awkward questions and did not have a comfortable Hollywood ending. There were a few slightly odd continuity moments and the accents were not always bang on but the scripting was good, as was the pace and the plot. It dealt with the harsh reality of a family who had had a child murdered and how that interrupted all the sinful mess of the affected lives.

What does it do to the quality of your affair if one of you loses a child? How do you comfort someone you have been cheating on? A murder in town means that lots of innocent people's dirty washing will soon be on view.

The acting was very good I thought. Immediate grief is not too hard to do but to keep the underlying theme going while getting back to 'normal'. That is tough. Well done to the ensemble cast.

And we don't all live lives of gentle conformity. Some choose to be loners. Some choose to move to a place to try again when they have had a previous calamity and don't want that raked-up if they are coping well. Getting questioned about a murder you didn't do when you have something to hide feels as unfair as being done for drink-driving after you have been rear-ended by a bad, sober driver.

I am sure some of the police procedures were not kept to - visiting people on remand, confronting relatives and witnesses in police stations, allowing someone to work on when they are medically unfit, visiting a crucial suspect alone. But it did try to redeem all the people who were not guilty whose happenstance made it look as if they might be. It showed us a town where a murder suddenly has everyone viewed with suspicion. Good stuff and a chance to ponder deep themes of human nature.

And of course the added benefit (especially in the early episodes) of us locals all enjoying views of the Clevedon we know well. Even if it did pretend to be in Dorset. St Andrew's living is being advertised in the Church Times right now - as seen on TV? No, you won't have a vicar as bad as that to follow.

I hope the second series, which they deserve, will be cleverly constructed. If it's still called Broadchurch then there's a danger it will become Midsomer. Maybe they could learn from The Wire and change more than you might expect between series. I think I trust these people to get it right.

A Little Bit OCD

I watched Jon Richardson's documentary on Tuesday evening in which he revealed the extent of some of his own compulsive behaviour (quite vulnerably, I thought) and then met some people with more serious, yes even life-threatening, versions.

People who know me well will be chuckling at me enjoying this programme. I have some symptoms. Richardson needs tidiness and cleanliness (or order and safety as he would put it) and wouldn't let the cameras into his bedroom, his controlled space. He has some issues with walking on paving stones and likes his plate of breakfast food to be facing a particular way with the items on the table evenly spread left and right. Needless to say, at home, all cutlery items must face the same way in the drawer.

I don't know if this is something everyone goes through and then most overcome. I like order and tidiness but can cope with their absence. I deliberately leave a few things untidy to remind myself I can cope. My CDs are in alphabetical order, so I can find stuff, but I don't always put them away and make a pile on top of the CD case. I had much worse problems with the touched-the-left-side-must-touch-the right thing when younger and have no idea how I got over it so assume I grew out of it when I realised I'd never get a girlfriend until cured.

No, my pet problem, which I never really recovered from but it only affects me and not others, is not being able to get to sleep if wardrobe and cupboard doors are not closed properly. Minor matter but I need to deal with it. I never make someone else do the closing. I take responsibility for my problem. That also sounded like there are lots of other people in my bedroom which isn't the case and it may soon go down to nil if she reads this.

The interesting conclusion to the programme was a thorough analysis by an expert and the verdict that Richardson is indeed obsessive/compulsive but it is not a disorder. He lives within it. It doesn't cause him, or others, harm. The description of some of the inpatients at the only mental health unit dedicated to the disorder was scary.

So, I concur and happily now describe myself as OC but not OCD. Useful programme.

By the way I wonder if the pile of CDs is because then I get a longer time of sorting out, which I secretly enjoy.

56 Up

I caught up with Michael Apted's amazing documentary series this week. Don't miss it.

Back in 1983 Anne Long gave a series of sociology lectures at St John's College, Nottingham and used the series, at that stage 7 Up, 14 Up and 21 Up to illustrate and start discussion. I was hooked and have watched it ever since. I guess being within twelve months of the age of the studied people makes a difference to one's enthusiasm for it. It could have been me.

The conceit was that at seven years old it would be possible to see what sort of adult the subject would turn into. 'Give me a child until he is seven and I will give you the man', was the catchphrase.

Although a normal value judgement in 1964 Apted accepts the criticism that he would have chosen more girls and ethnic minorities. The social mix of the 20 chosen in 1964 looks awkward today.

What is fascinating is that some lives have gone in very predictable directions whilst others have had unexpected journeys. Divorce has been incredibly common but death has not reared its head yet. Of the fourteen chosen to study from the original twenty all are still alive. Some of the people have dropped out from time to time but for 56 Up thirteen of the fourteen are available.

Apted is in his seventies now, his voice remaining a distinct and reassuring link between the programmes. 56 Up may have been his last one. He may choose someone to whom he passes the baton.

With the benefit of hindsight it might have been good to choose a new group of seven year olds to follow every seven years so that we had a constant comparison to make. Maybe that would have been too much to bear for the subjects who report that journalists make their lives a misery for a few months every seven years; not something they signed up for.

If you haven't seen the latest instalment then watch it here.

There is a good background article on Wikipedia.

I note what I would have been, with the possible comments of the documentary makers after:

7 Pupil at a boys primary school, Chigwell House, Edgbaston - fee paying (privileged)
14 Pupil at King Edwards, Edgbaston - fee paying but got a free place (predictable)
21 Clerk at Eagle Star Insurance (documentary would say under-achieved)
28 Training for ordination, married for six years, two children (dramatic change)
35 Doing a second curacy in Chester-le-Street, still married (predictable)
42 Living in Leamington Spa, heading up youth ministry for a para-church organisation, still married, teenage children (predictable)
47 Leamington Spa, Still married. About to leave para-church organisation to become part-time minister and part-time writer. Struggling with health. One son at university, one returned to living at home. (Not quite as expected)
56 Back in full-time parish ministry, living in Nailsea, sons left home. Married thirty-five years. (Turned things round a bit)

Possibly the documentary makers would have delved into issues of faith, financial struggles (especially in early years of ministry) and health. At some points in my ministry answering direct questions about such things too honestly might have cost me my job.

The Sopranos

This isn't a review as such because it's five years too late for that. But there are a few things worth discussing following a viewing of the Sopranos complete set, seasons 1-6, over the last few months.

TV isn't cinema. One of the many things that was said about the Sopranos was that it made TV for a cinema audience. Grown-up TV.

I've already said that I came to it late. I guess you have to remember the days of inconvenient television - when you had to sort out your social life so as not to miss the final part of a drama series - to appreciate the joy of convenient television. A series originally spread over seven years can be viewed in a few months with pauses not for adverts but at your own behest for a tea or comfort.

I am not a good judge of acting. I know wooden when I see it but am not so good at spotting talent. One of the few things I do observe is the skill of actors in a scene whilst they are not involved in the dialogue. The Sopranos directors tended to let the camera linger on the non-participants in a conversation. They often pan round a whole group during an awkward family silence. They especially loved the facial expressions of those listening respectfully to an idiot. The way Carmela Soprano (Edie Falco) responds with her facial muscles is a wonder of the world.

In Steven van Zandt (Little Steven, Springsteen's E Street Band) they found someone with no previous acting experience who nailed the shrugs and comic twitches of right-hand-man Silvio and invented, and stayed in, a character for all six seasons.

So what was the Sopranos all about? An Italian criminal fraternity in New Jersey? Of course. But it was about more than the story lines. It was about loyalty, relationships, food - always food - and growing old. It covered all sorts of normal and abnormal health matters - cancer, dementia (where did I bury the money?), adolescence, drug and alcohol abuse, domestic violence and smoking. It was about corruption. About fashion and about paying your debts. About sex. In these stories marriage is somehow sacred whilst a succession of escorts and prostitutes provide 'relief' to the men. As long as they are not caught the guys live with this deception. When found out they use gifts in place of penitence. The presents are of hugely expensive jewellery or top-of-the-range cars.

In particular the Sopranos is about the male psyche and the regression to violence, horrible and extreme violence, to solve everything. The guys banter at each other's expense but have a 'line' in their heads which, once crossed, deserves a beating. They find it hard to accept a friend who gives up alcohol and goes to AA since most of their meetings involve booze in some form.

Which is why a weekly set-piece where Tony Soprano (family head and gang leader) visits Doctor Melfi (a psychiatrist) for therapy, is key. He talks to his therapist as if his work should cause no mental problems but his wayward children might. He blames his mother for most things.

Tony speaks of his frustrations and stresses, initially as a waste-management consultant but later more blatantly about his real work. Melfi knows who he is and has a therapist herself with whom she discusses her professional hang-ups. Sometimes Tony even refers to the 'elephant in the room' but then names a different elephant. The main cause of his stress is obviously the inner conflict that he lives off immoral earnings in a world of warped loyalty where, around every corner, might lurk someone who wants to kill him. He commits, or arranges, murder himself many times - sometimes of enemies; sometimes friends. Look at his daughter wrong and don't expect to keep your teeth.

In the very first episode, while Tony is talking to Dr Melfi about 'trouble at work with a debt,' we cut to a severe beating of the debtor.

The use of music is interesting. The Alabama 3's Woke Up This Morning is the soundtrack for the opening credits, these always played over a drive home for Tony. There is no pre-credit action. The final piece of music each episode changes every time. Sometimes it picks up the theme expertly; on other occasions it grates deliberately. The final tune of the final episode is Journey's Don't Stop Believing.

Our expectation is that this utterly unpleasant protagonist, who we will miss when he is gone, is doomed. Few people in the show die of old age. We know his family will mourn him but will we? The final episode leads us up to the point where everything looks in place for Tony's murder. We wonder how we will react when this inevitability arrives.

Are good people all good or bad people all bad? That is what the Sopranos makes you think about.

The Football League Show

I do love watching all the goals from the Championship and the Football League each week. It is such a contrast with the days when football was first televised and I was allowed to stay up to see Match of the Day which might have found itself broadcasting two goalless draws. These days it is a disappointment to miss a single goal in all four divisions.

That said the format of the Football League Show has made the punditry so dull. Typical comment:

Manish: (Name) has done an excellent job at (Club); that's three wins and a draw, ten points out of the last fifteen. He's really turned them round.

Steve Claridge: Yeah, no, I mean, fair play to him he's got them playing and instilled some confidence.

Manish: How has it changed since you played for them?

Then Lizzie reads out some emails and texts from fans who either say their teams is great or rubbish and the manager has to go or stay.

Brighten up please.

Although not for the faint-hearted this spoof bio of Claridge is hilarious.

The Apprentice

This week's episode of The Apprentice raised an interesting issue. The task was to buy ten objects at the cheapest possible price. Any of the ten objects not purchased would lead to a fine. Arriving back late would also be fined. It was boys versus girls.

The girls' strategy was to research by phone, and then shop. They got all ten items but were late back and paid a lot for them.The boys' team blazed a trail of unplanned hopefulness, negotiated amazing discounts, arrived on time but only got seven of their ten.

Nevertheless the boys won. Not by much.

The boys' negotiating ploy was to 'have a story.' In other words to lie. They told fibs about going to a Scottish wedding, leaving books in Nottingham and cooking a gourmet meal.

In the follow up programme The Apprentice - You're Fired this was remarked upon. One of the panelists said that, of course, retailers would be aware they were being lied to but often went with the story to see if they were entertained enough to give discount.

What do we make of the ethics though? Does the presence of a camera (I never quite know what reasons are given for a camera following the players into places) make retailers less likely to challenge? Who wants such bad publicity? But would any retailer, now seeing the programme, sue for having given a discount under false pretences?

I know Lord Sugar wants people with initiative but at what point does integrity come in?

Rev - some observations

A review of the just-finished TV comedy series Rev made it as far as the front page of the Guardian this week. One or two episodes of Rev attracted more viewers than some instalments of Big Brother (do people still watch that?) and certainly got people chatting. There is an excellent review on Bishop Alan's Blog so I won't cover old ground, especially when I'd do it less well.

Please note, sensitive readers, that it is going to be difficult to say what I want to say without saying some of the things Rev'd Adam said in the programme. So if you don't like the idea of a clergyman uttering the sentence 'I had a nice wank, thanks' then look away now.

First thing to note is that Rev was a comedy. It was also an intelligent comedy so it did not tell you when to laugh by dubbing on a fake laughter track. You had to make up your own mind if it was amusing. By and large it was chuckle not belly-laugh. Now you should know this, but comedy relies for its effect on showing things that do not normally happen. So we are shown Adam's wife desperately wanting intimacy with him by dressing as a prostitute; an archdeacon who always tips away any refreshment he is offered and who turns up almost daily, uninvited,  Adam getting rat-faced and trying to get off with an attractive head-teacher and a caricature of an evangelical sub-sect of the C of E with money to burn. As Bishop Alan says, it does not mean this happens but it can be how it feels to be isolated in urban ministry. Telling a bunch of rowdy builders to f**k off might feel good but most of us would hold back, aware of the repercussions. If we had reached the point where we couldn't control ourselves then taking off our dog-collar to do it might feel a bit unnecessary. But in a comedy, self-control is not what happens.

Secondly, this was well researched. Those who shared their stories shared well and were listened to. People do demand that their clergy are 'normal' and 'real' but don't mean it quite as it sounds. As Adam's friend Colin found when he told Adam, who he lovingly calls 'Vicarage,' that he could speak his mind and then became offended when he was told he called round to the house too often.

Thirdly, and this would be what I would want a post-Rev discussion group to talk about, where was the leadership? The vicar was portrayed as pastor and no more. There is a reactive necessity to a pastoral ministry but when a church reaches a certain size it is not possible for one pastor to do it all. Adam's ministry was in constant demand but he had no strategy for coping, delegating, training or leading. And he preached two minute sermons which were criticised for their content (my congregation might well complain about being short-changed).

I currently work in a small town but all the rest of my life I have been in an urban situation. I never felt it necessary to drink, smoke, swear or wank my way to relaxation. There were gentlemen of the road, scroungers and the easily offended but there were more than moments of reprieve. It wasn't hell. And there were many, many laughs

To quote another good comedy, no-one told me it was meant be this way. So I didn't act as if it was.

Adam left us watching him administer prayer to a dying woman. The writers felt that in that was the gist of the job and the source of satisfaction. Or did they? Perhaps Adam sitting in his study carefully drafting a Bible-based preaching series and an outreach strategy for the autumn may have been nearer the truth, but it isn't funny.

Rev should be compulsory viewing at theological colleges.

Rev

Last night on BBC 2 saw the first episode of this sitcom.

The beginning of a new comedy series is often about character establishment. Tom Hollander, as the Rev'd Adam Smallbone, is the fish out of water as a country vicar transported into the inner city. His sinister archdeacon, riding around London in taxis and dropping his clergy off when he has finished talking with them, wherever they are, urges him when money is needed to fix a stained-glass window, to find 'an inner-city solution to an inner-city problem.'

It is an intelligent comedy. No canned laughter helps you along. It makes good points (people do start attending church if a church school offers the best bet for the kids). Apparently Hollander was quite moved by some of the stories from clergy he heard in researching the programme which he co-wrote.

I've yet to see a portrayal of a vicar as leader rather than pastor. But it isn't, thank goodness gas, gaiters or Dibley.

Worth another week. Apparently an evangelical turns up in episode two. I'm a bit scared.

Eurovision 2010

If you missed it, this is what you missed:

Azerbaijan
'Drip Drip.' 'You smell like lipstick.' Eh? Female vocalist with pleasingly short dress but oops, only seventeen. Bookies favourite.

Spain
'Something Tiny.' Spain tend to go all novelty. Boy do these people not want to host next year. Real clock-work toys. How can you possibly put so much energy into something so unnecessary? They got to go again because someone interrupted them in a way no-one noticed.

Norway
'My Heart is Yours.' Shenandoah meets Titanic. At the key change there was no agreement as to which key to change to and several were chosen. If in doubt, sing louder. Keep the heart; take the oesophagus.

Moldova
'Run Away.' Fiddler with a mullet. True Europop is safe. Malfunction in the underwear department left us with stockings held up badly by over-long suspenders. Neither funny nor sexy.

Cyprus
'Time Changes Everything.' 4/4. Not that this will improve with age. Quite sweet. 'Make me a whore with the chemist.' Surely no chance apart from Greek points.

Bosnia Herzegovina
Not so much a key change as a song change. 'If we start breeding together we can bring the rain down.' Backing singers' outfits 10/10. Several songs tonight have not so much ended as expired breathily.

Belgium
'Me and my Guitar.' Solo singer. Should have brought the band. Pleasant change though. Popular in the arena.

Serbia
'Ovo je Balkan.' Imagine Jerry Dammers waking up in Belgrade with a hangover and a keyboard.

Belarus
'Butterflies.' What language is this in? Oh, English. Boyzonegoal. Backing singers grew wings. Really. 'No girl under eight will fail to ask for an outfit like that for Christmas.' (Graham Norton)

Ireland
'It's For You.' I'm waiting for everyone to grow wings now. Can't help it. B(all)ad. Key change.

Greece
'Opa!' Panathinaikos Shed End. Last minute equaliser. Lyre, lyre, drums on fire.

UK
'That Sounds Good to Me.' To who? Backing vocals off key. Very, very poor.

Georgia
'Shine.' You just knew the techno was going to cut in. It didn't. Lass can sing though. Massive pair of er, lungs.

Turkey
'We Could Be the Same.' Power pop, Euro-goth-rock hip-hop shock. Awesome. Stripping robot.

Albania
'It's All About You.' Perfectly acceptable café Europop. No chance. Fiddler on the hoof.

Iceland
Missing pie riddle solved. She shopped at Iceland. We wrecked the economy and diverted your planes. Left no time for song writing.

Ukraine
'Sweet People.' Frail lass. Wraith-like. Good work. No one cared.

France
'Allez olla olé.' Europop of the required standard 'cept it's the French. Dum di dum di di dum, dum di dum di di dum, dum di dum di di dum dum. Possible the worst dance routine in the history of dance routines.

Graham Norton; 'There is a drinking game where you take a shot for every mullet or violin.' Participants probably died during Moldova.

Romania
Two see-through Siamese pianos. Ah woah oh oh oh oh. Ah woah oh oh oh oh. The tightest leather catsuit I've ever seen. And I'm old and a persistent ogler of such.

Russia
'Lost and Forgotten.' Hope it is. Miss de Burgh. Petals fell from the roof. Singer brought along a sketch of his cell-mate to sing to. Jumpers.

Armenia
'Apricot Stone.' Hair and boob extensions. The apricot on stage sprouted at the key change. Possibly singing in Geordie.

Germany
'Satellite.' Nice rhythm. Bit different. Could do well. Liked it. (It won.)

Portugal
Há Dias Assim. Sorry. I switched off at chord two.

Israel
'Milim.' Missed the last few highs. Everyone loved it. The favourite. No idea why.

Denmark
'In a Moment Like This.' Every step you take; every move you make, I'll be sampling you. Looked like Stewart Copeland duetting with Myleene Klass. Twelfth key change in about thirteen songs.

Until next year then.

Ashes to Ashes to Ashes

The original premise of Life on Mars, back in the day, was that a 21st century cop got a bang on the head and found himself in 1973. It was a brilliant conception. The writers left the ending of series 2 ambiguous. No-one was left the wiser as to whether Sam Tyler had died, remained in a coma or lost his marbles.

In carrying on to series 3 now updated in its Bowieness to Ashes to Ashes they needed a new angle to avoid more of the same and so Alex Drake, another modern cop, gets shot and she ends up in 1981. The same question hangs, am I mad etc, but allowing inter-action with the 70s crew, now ten years older and struggling with the arrival of technology, psychological profiling, recorded interviews and paperwork, makes for some fun cameos. Everyone did think Betamax was better quality than VHS. Then. And of course, firing up the red Audi Quattro was fun too.

The early days of anti-racism, anti-sexism and, gasp, human rights for scum, are carefully chronicled allowing those of us who were alive then to remind ourselves that, yes, we were really like that.

Governments wanting to return power to the local police need to be very aware of what the local police used to do with it and why it was taken off them, or only handed over with accountability in tow.

Last night's final episode cleared up the loose ends of what has been really going on. Everything was not quite as we thought but it all makes sense now. Don't look at Wikipedia if you haven't seen it yet. It has a plot spoiler which is annoying.

Philip Glenister's Gene Hunt was a larger than life bully governor and needed a strong antagonist. In Daniel Mays as Jim Keats, the Discipline and Complaints Officer who is investigating Hunt's CID team, I think they came up with one of the best caricature characters I have ever seen. A delight, and brilliantly played.

As the series ends, apparently for all time, a new character walks in to 1983 and asks if anyone has seen his iPhone. He could have walked into 2003 and no-one would have been the wiser. How soon we forget and take for granted. Our children will see as rights those things which we fought for and as necessaries those things which were our luxuries.