In happier news, exams are FINISHED (fuck you, Romantic literature) and thank the cosmos for that. No more worrying about the finer points of social concerns in Europe after the Second World War or remembering the writings of whingy, moping poets from the late eighteenth/early nineteenth century.
That's not entirely fair. "Ozymandias" by Percy Shelley and "Kubla Khan" by Samuel Coleridge are pretty cracking poems, and without them we wouldn't have had Alan Moore's Watchmen or Rush's "Xanadu", respectively.
But whatever.
Speaking of Rush, myself and Messrs. Phil Canton and Rob Dillon went to see Rush: Beyond the Lighted Stage at a frankly ridiculous price at the local Cineworld. Upon entering the screen, we saw that we were probably the youngest people in the room.
I had never seen a documentary at a cinema before, so it was with some trepidation that I waited for it to start, but it was fantastically put together and never boring, although obviously you'd probably have to be a Rush fan to properly appreciate it. About 90% of it charted Rush's history and progression as a band, with the remaining 10% mainly consisting of artists gushing over how much they loved Rush. It was a surprisingly varied mix, actually: Gene Simmons of Kiss, Tim Commerford of Rage Against the Machine, Trent Reznor of Nine Inch Nails, Mike Portnoy of Dream Theater (what a surprise), Jack Black, Kirk Hammett of Metallica and Billy Corgan of the Smashing Pumpkins among others.
The film explored the strange situation Rush as a band are in: despite having a massively devoted and loyal fanbase all over the world, they haven't exactly been critical darlings. This was reflected in the choice of interviewees: everyone was either a member of the band, had worked with the band, or was influenced by the band in some way.
It was a very good film, and I recommend it to anyone who considers themselves a Rush fan.
High Voltage Festival is coming up next month! I'm going on the Sunday, and here are the bands playing that I want to see:
- Uriah Heep (performing Demons & Wizards)
- Wishbone Ash (performing Argus)
- Opeth
- Marillion
- The Reasoning
- Joe Bonamassa, if I can fit him in
- Clutch, possibly
Sadly, Bigelf and Focus are playing the Saturday, which means I'm going to miss them. Bigelf in particular, their live show is bombastically magnificent.
Such is life.
Doctor Who is meandering toward the conclusion of the first series with Matt Smith as No. 11 and Karen Gillan as Amy Pond. I feel that this is an appropriate time to comment on it as it's winding down.
The series as a whole has had a good quality: it has suffered from inconsistent writing, but that's true of any given Who series. The opening episodes, penned by the Grand Moff - The Eleventh Hour and The Beast Below were fantastic, although the latter suffered from a somewhat compressed storyline, and I feel it would have been better as a two parter. Likewise, The Time of Angels and Flesh and Stone definitely succeeded in being the Aliens to Blink's Alien, so to speak. So all the Moffat episodes so far have been fantastic, giving me high hopes for the finale.
However...
Victory of the Daleks was fun, if more than a little silly, and I feel that the episode to re-introduce the Daleks yet again should have had a bit more gravitas. Vampires of Venice was a good solid Who episode that didn't suck, and that's all you can say about it, really. Amy's Choice is probably my favourite non-Moffat episode of the series, with a memorable villain and an excellent plot device. The Hungry Earth and Cold Blood were frankly excreable, suffering from plot idiocy and crappy villains - not to mention killing off a major character in a way that - well, I'm going to borrow a TV Tropes term here: they Dropped A Bridge On Him. That is to say, killed off "in a way that is particularly awkward, anti-climactic, mean-spirited or dictated by producer's fiat". Vincent and the Doctor seems to be a divisive one: people either think it's a touching tearjerker or a mawkish melodrama. I fall into the latter camp, being of the opinion that it sucked great big hairy balls. The Lodger was enjoyable, but the writing of the Doctor was a bit shit, and there was not enough Amy. Also, James Corden making out. That's a mental image that will haunt me.
So on Saturday, The Pandorica Opens airs as the first of a two parter, and I'm looking forward to it immensely. The RTD era of finales is thankfully over (ever escalating and dire inescapable situation solved in the last five minutes with a magic reset button) and I'm a bit of a Moffat fanboy, so it should be rather grand.
Also, Neil Gaiman has written and submitted a script for the next series. SQUEE.
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