Dr Karl Shuker's Official Website - http://www.karlshuker.com/index.htm

IMPORTANT:
To view a complete, regularly-updated listing of my Shuker In MovieLand blog's articles (each one instantly clickable), please click HERE!

IMPORTANT:

To view a complete, regularly-updated listing of my ShukerNature blog's articles (each one instantly clickable), please click HERE!

IMPORTANT:
To view a complete, regularly-updated listing of my RebelBikerDude's AI Biker Art's thematic text & picture galleties (each one instantly clickable), please click HERE!

IMPORTANT:
To view a complete, regularly-updated listing of my Starsteeds blog's poetry and other lyrical writings (each one instantly clickable), please click HERE!

IMPORTANT:
To view a complete, regularly-updated listing of my Eclectarium blog's articles (each one instantly clickable), please click HERE!


Search This Blog


Showing posts with label Doctor Who. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Doctor Who. Show all posts

Friday, June 10, 2022

JUST ASK FOR DIAMOND (aka DIAMOND'S EDGE)

 
My official UK DVD of Just Ask For Diamond (© Stephen Bayly/20th Century Fox – reproduced here on a strictly non-commercial Fair Use basis for educational/review purposes only)

After watching a number of intense movies lately, on 8 June 2022 I decided to view something lighter and light-hearted – so I duly selected my DVD of the British film noir spoof movie Just Ask For Diamond (released in the USA as Diamond's Edge).

Directed by Stephen Bayly, with a screenplay and story by English mysteries/suspense novelist and screenwriter Anthony Horowitz, and released in 1988 by 20th Century Fox, Just Ask For Diamond was based upon Horowitz's 1986 novel The Falcon's Malteser. As you will have guessed from its title, this in turn was (very) loosely inspired by, and hilariously spoofed, the classic 1941 American film noir The Maltese Falcon, which was of course adapted from the classic 1930 crime novel of the same title by Dashiell Hammett. Moreover, The Falcon's Malteser is just the first in an ongoing series of film noir spoof novels and short stories by Horowitz featuring the Diamond Brothers. OK, now that we've got all of that out of the way, here's what this movie is all about!

Set in what was then contemporary (i.e. 1980s) London, Just Ask For Diamond features a hapless private eye in his late 1920s who calls himself Tim Diamond (played by Dursley McLinden), even though his real name is Herbert Tim Simple – with simple being the operative word here (as in simple by name, simple by nature!). For Diamond is totally clueless in every way, which is hardly a plus for someone who hopes to earn a living from detective work, and not surprisingly his business is forever teetering upon the brink of bankruptcy.

Indeed, all that gives Diamond hope (that's a pun for all you gemologists reading this!) is his 13-year-old brother Nick (Colin Dale). Unlike Tim, Nick is most definitely clued-up, a veritable young Sherlock Holmes, in fact, who solves with ease those few cases that do come their way, but allows Tim to take the credit, if only to ensure that they keep a roof over their head and a tin of beans in their kitchen – even though they no longer have a tin opener, because Tim pawned it!

Happily, however, just as snowy December arrives to add the risk of being frozen to death to their ever-growing list of woes, so too does a client, a vertically-challenged South American named Johnny Naples (José René Ruiz). He offers them the princely sum of £100 if they will keep hold of a small but mysterious parcel for him for just three days, after which he will return for it and give them another £100.

Not surprisingly, the Diamond Brothers readily accept this odd assignment, but as soon as Ruiz is gone they entirely fail to resist the temptation to open the package – only to discover to their bewilderment that it simply contains a box of Maltesers (a very popular, inexpensive British confectionary consisting of small milk chocolate balls with malted milk centres). Nor will they ever obtain an explanation for this anomaly from Naples, because before the three days are up, so are his days, all of them. See Naples and die, they say – or, in his case, be Naples and die!

And so it is that this ostensibly innocuous box and its equally inoffensive contents plunge the Diamond Brothers into a murky morass of intrigue, double dealings, and multiple murders, as they (or, rather, Nick!) pit their wits against several different agents from the criminal underworld, including the evil but nowadays sauna-slimmed Fat Man (Michael Robbins), all of whom will go to any lengths to seize that box of Maltesers – but why?

After Tim is wrongly arrested for Naples's murder by Chief Inspector Snape (Bill Paterson) and his brutal cohort Boyle (Jimmy Nail), they inform him that somehow the box holds the key to a secret cache of diamonds worth a considerable fortune that international master criminal Henry von Falkenberg aka The Falcon (Forbes Collins) had stashed away before his own unforeseen demise. When Tim is subsequently released by Snape, he and Nick receive a tip-off that Naples's girlfriend, a club singer wonderfully named Lauren Bacardi (Susannah York), may be able to offer them some clues. But she and they are soon apprehended by a pair of fiendish German operatives named Gott (Peter Eyre) and Himmell (Nickolas Grace), with their future looking anything but rosy, or even ongoing, for that matter! Diamonds are forever? Probably not, unless the ever-resourceful Nick can save the day for them yet again.

Add to this melodramatic mix the sinister form of The Falcon's so-called Black Widow, Brenda von Falkenberg, who keeps an alligator named Fido in her swimming pool (as you do), for extracting information from her victims before Fido extracts their internal organs from them (which Nick almost discovers first-hand at one point!), plus the mysterious case-within-a-case of the exploding barcode-reader belonging to the Diamond Brothers' local mini-supermarket owner Mr Patel (Saeed Jaffrey), and you have a scenario that soars so far over Tim's head as to be all but invisible to him.

Moreover, this cryptic case even taxes Nick's grey matter, until, just like Archimedes, the answer suddenly materializes while he's taking a bath. Happily, however, unlike Archimedes, he does not promptly dash naked into the street shouting that he has it! Instead, he rather more calmly phones all of the necessary dramatis personae, friends and foes alike, to meet him at a set time the following morning in the cemetery where the late Henry von Falkenberg's imposing, aptly falcon-decorated mausoleum stands, and all will be revealed, including the diamonds.

Needless to say, however, nothing is ever quite that straightforward in the labored lives of Nick and Tim. I won't give away the denouement, other than to say that in spite of Nick's skilful detective work, the Diamonds are not greeted by the diamonds after all – someone else had made the same canny deductions as Nick, but had got there first. Not all is lost, however, as Nick subsequently receives one of the diamonds in the post from that person, the sale of which will keep him and Tim afloat until the next case comes along. And who knows, they may even be able to retrieve their tin-opener from the pawn shop!

Just Ask For Diamond is a very funny comedy movie, made even more so by the deliberate dead-pan acting of the criminals, Tim's disaster-strewn bursts of enthusiasm and total ineptitude portrayed exuberantly by McLinden, contrasting so comprehensively with Nick's  razor-sharp gumshoe instincts and intellect as conveyed so effectively by Dale, plus a wonderful supporting cast of British actors who in addition to those already named here include Roy Kinnear, Michael Medwin, and Jim McManus, as well as even a special appearance by British heavy metal group Mammoth, playing the Fat Man's heavies.

I thoroughly enjoyed Just Ask For Diamond, whose frenetic pace never slackens for a moment, with its laconic asides and one-liners firing constantly from all sides like a perpetual hail of machine-gun bullets, and I only wish that there could have been more Diamond Brothers movies (but sadly, as I'll explain shortly, this was not to be).

(Incidentally: I am personally mystified that although Dursley McLinden's face appears on the front cover of some official DVD releases of Just Ask For Diamond (including the one that I own), his name is not included in the front cover's list of actors and actresses appearing in this movie, meaning that you have to turn to the back cover in order to discover who he is. Not how one might expect the actor playing a movie's title character to be treated, surely?)

Anyway, Just Ask For Diamond proved popular enough for the British TV channel ITV to launch a six-part British TV series in 1991 entitled The Diamond Brothers, in which McLinden and Dale reprised their eponymous roles. It was directed and written by Horowitz, who subsequently adapted it into a new Diamond Brothers novel, South By South-East, which, as its title suggests, has fun with the plot of the famous Hitchcock film noir movie North By Northwest. Sadly, however, the series was only ever screened once, but copies of it do exist (it has not been wiped, the awful fate of so many TV shows in the past), so perhaps one day it will be again.

This would be particularly welcomed by fans of Dursley McLinden, whose lead role in Just Ask For Diamond was his only significant appearance on the big screen. Born in 1965 on the Isle of Man, long before he became Tim Diamond Dursley had established himself as a very popular, major star of musical theatre in London's West End, appearing on stage in the likes of Gigi, Phantom of the Opera, and Follies. By the late 1980s, moreover, his fame had begun to furnish him with roles on TV too, which led to his appearing in such high-rating, well-loved shows as Mr Bean, After Henry, and, most famously, Doctor Who – as a principal supporting character, army soldier Sergeant Mike Smith, throughout one 1988 story, 'Remembrance of the Daleks'.

Just as Dursley seemed poised to break through into the big time both on television and in the movies, however, tragedy struck. His health rapidly deteriorated, so much so that he virtually gave up acting after 1991, and in 1995, aged only 30, Dursley died from AIDS. The death of so popular an actor at so young an age hit the British entertainment world hard, as he had made so many friends in it, and had inspired so many others globally with his tireless work for AIDS charities and awareness when he was no longer able to continue acting full-time. One of those friends was the TV screenwriter/producer Russell T. Davies, who based the lead character (a young actor named Ritchie Tozer, played by Olly Alexander) in the 2021 AIDS-themed Channel 4 TV drama series It's A Sin upon Dursley. And as a further tribute to him, Davies included in this same series a scene in which Ritchie is being filmed playing a character named Trooper Linden in a dalek-featuring Doctor Who story entitled 'Regression of the Daleks' (this story was fictitious, but the scene was intended to recall Dursley's appearance in 'Remembrance of the Daleks').

Just Ask For Diamond is another lasting tribute and testament to Dursley's great talent as an actor, offering us a potent yet all-too-brief insight into how his acting abilities and power would certainly have developed and expanded had he not been taken from our world far too soon. Consequently, I sincerely hope that whoever has the authority to rescreen The Diamond Brothers TV show will do so, and even release it on DVD, so that Dursley's last major on-screen contribution will be fully available for everyone to enjoy for all time, adding significantly to his body of accessible preserved work.

Finally: if you'd like to spy on the zany, harebrained crime capers in which only the Diamond Brothers could find themselves embroiled, be sure to click here to watch an official Just Ask For Diamond trailer on YouTube.

To view a complete chronological listing of all of my Shuker In MovieLand blog's other film reviews and articles (each one instantly accessible via a direct clickable link), please click HERE, and please click HERE to view a complete fully-clickable alphabetical listing of them.

 
Publicity photograph for the Doctor Who story 'Remembrance of the Daleks', depicting Dursley McLinden as Sgt Mike Smith alongside a dalek (© BBC/BBC Studios – reproduced here on a strictly non-commercial Fair Use basis for educational/review purposes only)

 

Sunday, January 10, 2021

BLINK (a Doctor Who episode)

 
A Weeping Angel, from Doctor Who (© Hettie MacDonald/Steven Moffat/BBC – reproduced here on a strictly non-commercial Fair Use basis for educational/review purposes only)

Time for Shuker In MovieLand to metamorphose once again, albeit only temporarily, into Shuker In TVLand, in order to review the following TV programme.

As a child and early teenager, I was a serious Doctor Who fan, but after Tom Baker's Doctor regenerated into Peter Davison's I lost interest, and have only watched a very occasional episode since then. However, one set of alien entities always intrigued me, and I read a lot about them, even though I'd never seen an episode featuring them – the Weeping Angels.

Almost as old as the universe itself, they send their living victims into the past and then feed upon the energy that their victims would have utilised had they continued living in the present. Moreover, they are lightning fast and are normally never seen, but if you do happen to see one, you can only survive by not turning your back on it, and continuing to stare at it without blinking.

As long as you stare at it, the Angel takes the form of a stone angel statue like those seen in cemeteries, entirely immobile and initially with its hands covering its face as if weeping. But blink for only a split second, and during that split second of non-sight the Weeping Angel will move closer, and will continue to do so each time that you blink again, until it is finally close enough to steal your energy...

During autumn 2019, while looking around a car boot sale, I came across and purchased a Doctor Who DVD that contained three episodes from one of the David Tennant's Doctor series, specifically because one of those episodes was none other than 'Blink'. Directed by Hettie MacDonald, written by Steven Moffat, and originally screened on 9 June 2007, this was the very episode in which the Weeping Angels make their first appearance.

On 12 November 2019, I duly watched 'Blink', finally saw the Weeping Angels in action on screen, and, as expected, found it to be very creepy indeed – creepy but also quite mesmerising. And yes, I did look behind me on more than one occasion while watching it! The Weeping Angels have since appeared in several other episodes of Doctor Who, and in a vote conducted by Doctor Who Magazine, 'Blink' was voted by its readers the second best episode ever from this entire long-running sci fi show that began way back in November 1963.

If, like me (until 12 November 2019, that is), you've never seen an episode of Doctor Who featuring the Weeping Angels, please click here if you'd like to see the fraught climactic scene from 'Blink', and here to watch a short compilation video claiming to show the Top Ten scariest moments (pre-Series 6) featuring these veritable energy-draining vampires – but don't blink!

And to view a complete listing of all of my Shuker In MovieLand blog's other film/TV reviews and articles (each one instantly accessible via a direct clickable link), please click HERE!

 

Monday, December 28, 2020

JASON AND THE ARGONAUTS VS TALOS, TITAN OF BRONZE!

Photo-still of Talos, from Jason and the Argonauts (© Ray Harryhausen/Don Chaffey/Morningside Productions/Columbia Pictures – reproduced on a strictly non-commercial Fair Use basis for educational/review purposes only)

 Every movie buff who is a fan of stop-motion animation will readily recall Talos, the enormous bronze statue who came to life in Ray Harryhausen's classic movie Jason and the Argonauts – more about which later here. But who – or what – exactly was Talos?

In classical Greek mythology, the deity who drove the sun chariot across the sky each day was not actually a god but rather a titan, called Helios, whose most famous artistic representation was none other than the Colossus of Rhodes – an immense statue created by a renowned sculptor known as Chares of Lindos, standing 110 ft tall, covered externally with burnished sheets of bronze, and deemed to be one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World. Tragically, it stood intact for just 56 years during the 3rd Century BC before being felled by an earthquake.

Athenian vase from c.400-390 BC, depicting Talos and the Argonauts, held at the Museo Jatta at Ruvo in Italy (public domain)

Interestingly, however, long before this spectacular work of art had been created, its subject, Helios, had already become associated with a bronze giant, but this one was of a much more animate nature. In the dialect of Crete, Helios became Talos – and according to Cretan legends incorporated into classical Greek mythology, Talos was a gigantic living man cast entirely from bronze (or brass in some versions) by the fire god Hephaestus. Talos contained a single internal vein running from his neck to his feet, and was sealed at one ankle by a huge bronze nail. This vein was filled with ichor, a magical substance present only within the very blood of the gods themselves, thereby rendering Talos immortal.

After Zeus had seduced the maiden Europa while assuming the form of a great bull, he carried her off on his back across the sea to the island of Crete. When they arrived there, he placed Talos on guard, to ensure that no-one abducted her, and Talos thereafter ran around the island three times every day to keep a constant watch for anyone who may try to rescue her, hurling huge boulders out to sea at any approaching ship. Eventually, Europa became Queen of Crete, but Talos remained, ever vigilant. According to a different version of the Talos legend, he was given by Hephaestus to Minos, King of Crete, as a gift, but once again he guarded the island by running around its perimeter three times a day.

Talos kneeling atop the treasure chamber, from Jason and the Argonauts (© Ray Harryhausen/Don Chaffey/Morningside Productions/Columbia Pictures – reproduced on a strictly non-commercial Fair Use basis for educational/review purposes only)

One of the creepiest scenes in any fantasy film appears in Jason and the Argonauts – a thoroughly enjoyable, albeit decidedly Hollywoodised, treatment of the epic Greek legend. Directed by Don Chaffey and released in 1963, it is filled with classic stop-motion special effects created by the master of screen monsters, Ray Harryhausen. The scene in question is when, while en route to Colchis in order to steal the Golden Fleece, hero Jason (played by Todd Armstrong) and his fellow Argonauts aboard their mighty ship the Argo reach the Isle of Bronze, reputedly guarded by Talos. Yet at least on first sight he seems to be nothing more than a giant bronze statue (one of several in a valley there), sculpted in crouching position on top of a massive chamber serving as a pedestal but packed from floor to ceiling inside with countless treasures. 

Ignoring Jason’s strict instructions not to take anything from the island when they go ashore, two of the Argonauts, Hercules (Nigel Green) and Hylas (John Cairney), plunder the treasure chamber, stealing from it an enormous jewelled brooch that Hercules plans to use as a spear. But as they re-emerge with the pin and look up at the enormous statue of Talos on top of the chamber, to their horror the 'statue' suddenly turns its head with a loud graunching sound and looks down at them! And as they watch, terror-stricken, Talos swiftly comes totally alive and steps down from the chamber, poised to stomp on them like tiny ants as they flee before him, racing back to their ship to alert the other Argonauts of the monster that their greed has unleashed upon them all.


TOP: That eerie moment when Talos turns his head to look at a terrified Hercules, from Jason and the Argonauts (© Ray Harryhausen/Don Chaffey/Morningside Productions/Columbia Pictures – reproduced on a strictly non-commercial Fair Use basis for educational/review purposes only); BOTTOM: fantasy artist Richard Svensson's vibrant interpretation of this iconic movie moment (© Richard Svensson)

Happily, Talos is rendered immobile once more, when, guided by the voice of the goddess Hera (Honor Blackman), Jason successfully prises out of his heel the cork that retains his body's vital ichor, which gushes out from his vein, bringing Talos's immortality to an abrupt end. Nevertheless, Hylas does not escape from paying the ultimate price for having assisted Hercules in pilfering the brooch pin from the treasure chamber, because after been immobilised, Talos crashes to the ground, crushing the hapless Hylas beneath his immense prone form.

In the original Jason myth, conversely, Talos himself removes the ichor-retaining nail from his ankle after being bewitched by the sorceress-priestess Medea (who was accompanying Jason and the Argonauts back home after they had seized the Golden Fleece at Colchis), and thereby brings about his own death. Also, Hylas is not killed by Talos's falling bronze form, but is instead abducted alive from the island by a naiad or water nymph who has fallen in love with him.

Talos stepping down from the treasure chamber, ready to pursue and pulverise the hapless Hercules and Hylas, from Jason and the Argonauts (© Ray Harryhausen/Don Chaffey/Morningside Productions/Columbia Pictures – reproduced on a strictly non-commercial Fair Use basis for educational/review purposes only)

Unlike the Colossus of Rhodes, which unquestionably once existed, there is no evidence whatsoever to suggest that Talos was ever anything more substantial than a figure of legend. Nevertheless, as an animate metallic humanoid entity in the annals of world mythology, he may well lay claim to being the world’s first robot (long before the likes of such early modern-day counterparts as 'the Man-Machine' in Fritz Lang's classic 1927 movie Metropolis, for instance) – were it not of course for the fact that in his murderous pursuit of any hapless visitors to his island domain, he clearly paid scant regard to Isaac Asimov’s celebrated Three Laws of Robotics!

Finally: please click here to view the chilling scene from Jason and the Argonauts when Talos comes to life - even more creepy than the Weeping Angels on Doctor Who, and that's saying something!

And to view a complete listing of all of my Shuker In MovieLand blog's other film reviews and articles (each one instantly accessible via a direct clickable link), please click HERE! 

Poster advertising a screening of Metropolis in Hay-on-Wye, the Welsh 'town of books', in March 2011 (© Dr Karl Shuker)