revolutions are not an everyday event

(No, I didn’t suddenly develop a tremor, my biro was running out)

So yeah, fall of the Iron Curtain! It’s 1989! I’m twelve! I can’t draw hands!

I will say, even now, that as names of fictional eastern European countries go, ‘Barillia’ beats Enid Blyton’s ‘Baronia’ to which it is closely related. And that as made-up eastern European names go, ‘Romilla’ could be worse.

I love that Paul is ‘promising’ and ‘talented’, because recognising that Barillia might not be a Marxist utopia of happy smiling peasants is obviously really hard, especially with all these people wandering around in Dickensian rags covered in bruises and weird haematomas (what is that on Romilla’s foot? and that blonde woman who is presumably her mother has, like, a snake issuing from her mouth, it is freaky).

He tricks his way into the workhouse! He rescues a hot skinny blonde chick! He becomes a fugitive! He becomes a revolutionary! Whatever would ‘bleak Barillia’ have done without the hunky Western guy to help them out?

OK, so the ‘winds of change’ are operating independently of him (bonus points for Scorpions reference! also bonus points for totally subconscious Sydney Carton quote) and Romilla does help him out a bit with the whole revolution thing, maybe by acting as an interpreter. Or possibly Paul is so super that he picked up the language in a week. Or (more likely, this) everyone just speaks English.

I cannot end this piece without pointing at the bloke in the hat. And the bob. And the purple bowtie. And the mad eyebrows. And the moustache which entirely conceals his mouth (how is that even possible?) He is clearly EVIL and quite possibly a dictator of some sort, but how for the love of god is he getting anyone to take him seriously in that hat? Does he just shoot everyone who laughs at it? Or is he cultivating an image as a murderous yet lovable buffoon so the West will sell him arms? (Oops, sorry, wrong batch of revolutions)

7 March 2011 0

irrelevant junk

This wouldn’t fit on the scanner because it’s foolscap. It wouldn’t fit in my ringbinder either. Annoying.

The detective’s name is making me think of this stupid epitaph:

Here lies Lester Moore
Four slugs from a 44.
No Les. No Moore.

Maybe that’s meant to fit with the whole noir-ish feel I’m trying to get going here, with nightclubs and random references to the Mob? Either way, it fails.

So, anyway, here be spoilers. Obviously I didn’t want to give away the big plot twist because that’s not what blurbs do. But Sheila’s ‘bizarre’ ‘secret’ is… she was assigned male at birth. Shocking, huh? You weren’t getting that vibe from her drag queen stagename, makeup and costume at all, were you? I don’t know why the police failed to figure this out at the autopsy and had to get the info from her sister. The murder must have been really horrific 🙁 I have a vague idea that the murderer may have been an ex-lover with objections to Sheila’s trans-ness, but since I was steering clear of spoilers I can’t remember. Oh well.

I feel bad for Sheila that not only is she dead as a result of a probable hate crime, but her case is being handled by a police officer who seems more interested in perving on her sister. Plus, his unprofessional conduct is hampering the investigation, as Jacey is withholding vital evidence in case the bad people hurt him. Um, he’s a cop. Dealing with dangerous people is sort of his job.

Mainly, this production screams out to me ‘I just got a new set of Berol felt-tips and I’m going to use them!’ There is something so retro about the lettering in the title, I almost love it. Almost.

(Oh, and when I first heard of Macy Gray I was like ‘OMG she has nearly the same name as the sister in that shitty crime story I thought up several years ago.’ My brain is full of this irrelevant junk.)

25 June 2010 0

war is hell

Hmm, torn between two equally shitty titles, what am I to do? I know, use them both! If Shakespeare can do it, so can I!

The teeny-tiny mask thing and oversized babygro-with-wellies ensemble sported by Peter dates this to the first Gulf War. Sky News was always on about chemical weapons, and as I was only thirteen I believed everything they told me. So war in the 21st century is going to be a nightmare, as opposed to, say, the fourth century, when it was obviously fun. And it is still going to be a male-run affair, in spite of the fact that Leni is some inches taller than Peter and looks considerably harder.

OMG is that a CND symbol she is wearing? That is adorable. My vision of this millennium involves the CND, side ponytails, shoulderpads and handwritten ‘correspondance’.

(Well, I was right about the shoulderpads.)

As Florence and James are Leni’s great-grandparents, presumably he must survive to procreate in spite of the horrors of war / his weird moustache? Way to kill the suspense there. If Leni’s great-grandad had been killed in WWII she would know this already. So maybe it is Leni’s blossoming love with her ‘distant cousin’ that gets snuffed out by trad trg tragedy? I’m not sure I really cared, even then.

1 June 2010 0

selling your knees for drugs

‘Classical story’ is invariably shorthand for ‘I ripped off this plot from somebody else who already did it better’. I have never read The Prince and The Pauper, nor seen the film, but clearly I had read a blurb for it in the back of one of my beloved Puffin Classics and this is my unique take on it. Sigh.

I feel that Jane and Gina may have had some unique form of twin-to-twin transfusion syndrome whereby Gina monopolised all the hair. Clearly being homeless and miserable has a terrible effect upon your hair, not to mention your ability to apply mascara; though judging by the state of their mother, this may be inherited. Why is the homeless girl bothering with eye makeup and red nail polish anyway? Also, wouldn’t she have sold the bit of bling around her neck for food or drugs by now?

I do not understand why Gina’s fantastically rich adoptive parents only adopted the one twin. This makes no sense. Was deadbeat mother with the identically tiny wonky mouth insisting on hanging on to Jane? Or was there another set of prospective parents lobbying to bring one up in poverty, and social services thought ‘yeah, this will make an interesting social experiment’?

I love that Jane’s home (a.k.a. cardboard box) is attached with a wriststrap, presumably so that nobody will steal it. Obviously it is much more valuable than the Love Locket. I don’t exactly get how the Love Locket is constructed, when you close it won’t the heart be hanging side on to the chain rather than facing front? Where is the hinge? Had I never seen an actual locket?

Aw, poor Gina. Luxury is always empty, isn’t it? OK, so obviously her adoptive parents are totally evil and her legs are abnormally short and she has no knees (well, I am assuming this based on Jane’s appearance, but maybe Jane sold her knees for drugs) but still, girlfriend, look at your fabulous bouncy voluminous hair!

And wow, their parents. If that was my true identity, I wouldn’t want it. No wonder Gina has substituted them with a string of on-trend blue plastic beads, to match the earrings hanging from the side of her skull. WHY DO THESE PEOPLE HAVE NO EARS.

26 May 2010 0