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... (meaningful look at icon) the next one is already looming. Nah, it has already struck, let's be honest.
I loved Life on Mars and was a bit sceptical about Ashes to Ashes, because, you know, the original idea was great and exceedingly well executed, but was the sequel really going to hold up the standard set by Life on Mars? Given that A2A had Gene Hunt, I was more than willing to ignore the scepticism, though, and get the first two series.
And now I'm hooked.
True, the idea isn't new anymore, but the fact that it's now a woman who goes back in time, to land in the misogynistic, chauvinist environment dominated by Hunt, opens up so many new possibilities for conflict, drama and comedy. Plus, Alex's obsession with her parents and her fight for going home and rejoining her daughter give her story a more personal touch and thus make it completely different from Sam Tyler's, even though the basic format is the same.
I watched the first five (erm, yes, five) episodes of season 1 yesterday and had to admonish myself very sternly that it was time to go to bed. It's a good thing I haven't any plans for tonight. *happy sigh*
If I were an English teacher I'd use that series for teaching my students contemporary UK history and culture -- I suppose one would have to watch it with the subtitles on, because the slang isn't always easy to understand and certainly beyond school level, but the insight LoM and A2A give into 70's and 80's culture would be a treasure trove for any teacher.
Jul. 27th, 2010
Bugger them with sharp, rusty objects drenched in sulphuric acid.
As an alternative, perform lobotomy on me but please be careful to cut only the bits that make me susceptible to Mr. H's considerable charms.
[BTW: when I first heard the word lobotomy, I thought it was a clinical condition and vaguely thought of sagging buttocks. Low bottom. OMG]
Had lunch today with Stefan the police attaché -- calamari fritti at Anja's are a synonym for "heaven" -- and who should stroll onto the terrace, looking gorgeous, well-rested (unsurprisingly, after another week-long holiday) and debonair, but Mr. H, he of the Sauce Hollandaise voice? So we're going to have dinner tomorrow with a new Austrian employee at [...].
Dinner.
But with a third party.
Which means fretting about outfits but with no chance of underwear exposure.
Did I say bugger already?
Bugger.
As an alternative, perform lobotomy on me but please be careful to cut only the bits that make me susceptible to Mr. H's considerable charms.
[BTW: when I first heard the word lobotomy, I thought it was a clinical condition and vaguely thought of sagging buttocks. Low bottom. OMG]
Had lunch today with Stefan the police attaché -- calamari fritti at Anja's are a synonym for "heaven" -- and who should stroll onto the terrace, looking gorgeous, well-rested (unsurprisingly, after another week-long holiday) and debonair, but Mr. H, he of the Sauce Hollandaise voice? So we're going to have dinner tomorrow with a new Austrian employee at [...].
Dinner.
But with a third party.
Which means fretting about outfits but with no chance of underwear exposure.
Did I say bugger already?
Bugger.