From Beginning to End

When I went to see The Dark Knight Rises, I went in knowing that it was the end of the series - it had always been planned as a trilogy, according to Christopher Nolan - and yet it seemed to be setting up so many new threads to the story - Catwoman at the very least, but the idea of Batman going up against Bane should, by rights, have consequences too far-reaching for a final movie - but suffice it to say that the film-makers laid the foundations for this conclusion in the very first film.

Nolan's Bruce Wayne/Batman was very much not the same person as in the comics or, more importantly, in any of the other films made about Batman (most of which missed the point). Furthermore, none of Nolan's movies have been 'superhero' movies... they've all been very definitely crime flicks featuring a character who's often considered a superhero despite being a (fairly) normal guy in a costume. Taken at face value, these three films have followed Bruce Wayne's arc from revenge-fuelled teen, through the creation of Batman to fulfil his desire to avenge his parents' death, to finally giving up the fight and passing on the responsibility. It may well have a Chris Nolan special 'trick ending' - that point is very much up for debate - but it works well either way.

The big problem with a 'Batman film' is that people tend to expect it to be about Batman and feature Batman in the majority of scenes... that's certainly a valid way of doing it and, granted, Batman tends to feature rather more prominently than Bruce Wayne in the comics... but let's not forget that Batman is Bruce Wayne in a mask. It's argued in some of the comics that Bruce Wayne is actually Batman in a mask, that the man has become a disguise for the vigilante to adopt, but I'm not sure that works too well in a live-action movie. Nolan touched on that idea a couple of times (Rachel Dawes opining that, while there may be a time when Gotham doesn't need the Batman, there will never be a time that Bruce Wayne doesn't need the Batman, for example) but it never became his central theme.

As a fan of Batman, I enjoyed this trilogy... Part two felt overlong, went too heavy on the 'dark knight/white knight' stuff, and I'm not entirely sure how Batman could continue to function as a vigilante after taking the blame for Harvey Dent's death (I can't remember now whether it's suggested that Batman hasn't been seen in the 8 years between the end of The Dark Knight and the beginning of The Dark Knight Rises, or if he was still active... But Bruce Wayne certainly became a recluse, in part due to his injuries sustained as Batman) but, taken as a new and unique interpretation of the Batman story, it all worked very well.

Hell, anything has to be better than Just Imagine Stan Lee's Batman.

Considering the way the movie ends, it's a shame that Nolan won't be continuing the story, but one has to realise that wanting a story to continue past its natural conclusion isn't a good thing... Look at the Jurassic Park sequels...

In other news, last week saw what must surely have been the first Mediaeval Baebes gig on the right side of the pond for quite a few years. They've been doing the circuit of US Renaissance Fairs for absolutely ages and brought a US choir along with them for a one-off performance in a Hackney church this last Thursday. It was quite a weird setup for the day. When the tickets were bought, I was working, and expected to be working for a good few months, so I had plotted my quickest route by train from work. My old mate Paul was planning to leave work early and take a long train route to the gig. My sister was staying at our parents' house, leaving her daughter under their care and driving to the gig, with a view to driving Paul and I back home.

Of course, as it turned out, I'm not working... So I went over to my parents' place for lunch, thus securing my lift to the gig as well as back from it. Then I started thinking it was a little unfair on Paul to have to get the train over to Hackney. If he was leaving early, it occurred to me that he could come over to the house and get a lift both ways.

Bizarrely, my mother had recommended leaving for Hackney at about 4pm, which would have meant getting there between 5 and 5.30pm. The idea was that, with Paul leaving his work at about 4.30pm, his train journey would get him to Hackney for about 5.30-6pm, so we'd park somewhere and still have plenty of time to meet up with him, get some food and get to the gig.

In the end, though, I recommended to Paul that he make his way to the house and get a lift. Leaving anywhere between 5 and 5.30pm would leave us two hours before the gig was due to start (an hour and a half before doors opened), and the travel time estimates were all reading somewhere in the region of one hour, even taking a silly route through Wembley, which would have been a mess due to the Olympics. One possible route also took us through town on the A1 - and hence the Congestion Zone - so that was quickly discounted. The third route took us pretty much to the northernmost part of the North Circular, then south on the A10. That was our preferred route... but, naturally, Helen's sat-nav wanted to go through town (clearly there's no 'avoiding the C-Zone' filter for its routes). Once we'd got as far as the A10, ignoring its protests and finally temporarily switching it off, its route was the same as the one I'd plotted via Google Maps.

Parking was rather more complicated than it should have been. Helen first drove past the entrance to the church parking area, then we all missed the entrance to the alternative parking area I'd looked up... We ended up doing a very wide circle around the church, only to end up in a residential street opposite. The parking signs seemed to say that restrictions applied only from Monday to Saturday, between 8am and 6.30pm... by this point, it was just after 6.30pm. After all three of us read the sign and discussed its cryptic phrasing, we agreed that it said what we believed it to say (and that we'd share the fine if Helen got a ticket), so we left the car and went for a quick bite to eat.

And that was the first time in years I've (a) eaten in a McDonalds and (b) had a McDonalds burger - normally I'd go for a chicken or fish option.

They don't taste any better than I remember. Without the ketchup, mustard and pickle, there would probably be no flavour at all.

Still... it was quick and it was filling.

And so we headed back to the church. Naturally, there was the nagging paranoia that, somehow, we'd wandered into the wrong church again, but we were in the right place, and had arrived in good time to get decent seats and, most importantly, not miss anything.

Only seven Baebes were in attendence, one having dropped out only a few days before, and I have to say that Kath Blake looked as if she was on the verge of sneezing whenever she sang, but it was a great gig. The Baebes did about an hour, followed by a break, then about 45 minutes from VOENA (I'm sure they're cheating the acronym, since it stands for Voices Of Eve 'N' Angels), another break, then a shorter set with both VOENA and the Baebes.

The whole thing was outstanding... The US choir perform songs in 20 different languages (not all at that gig, though!), one of which was invented by the choirmaster/choreographer - when she was telling us about getting the kids to guess what the language was, I half expected the answer to be Quenya - along with a couple of pop covers. Their encore was a cover of a Florence + The Machine song (can't remember the title) which was unplanned, unrehearsed and chosen by the choir on the spur of the moment... For some reason, they didn't think they'd need to do an encore until the audience told them otherwise.

What kind of let it down was that there were lots of young kids in the audience (some, I suspect, were Mediaeval Baebies) playing up all over the church, apparently unaware of the concert in progress. One kid insisted on having a heated 'discussion' with her(?) mother in the row behind us, prompting lots of evil looks and one exasperated "for goodness' sake!" from a guy in front. There were also times when, despite the good acoustics of the church, I struggled to hear what the Baebes or VOENA folks were saying as their introductions to songs. Some of the kids probably haven't yet learned to project their voices when not singing, but that doesn't excuse the choirmaster or the Baebes.

My sister walked away with two VOENA CDs after a lengthy conversation with the very enthusiastic stallholder (they're playing at the Grand Ole Opry sometime soon!). I decided not to get anything, largely due to lack of funds, but also because I wasn't sure which album I'd want... There was one awesome song (possibly written by the choirmaster) that started out quite mornful, but then suddenly wasn't. A woman in the row in front of us seemed to start crying during that song... I didn't find it quite that powerful, but there was certainly something compelling about it... I just couldn't see which CD (if any) it was on... Must do some research...

Of course, when we got back to the car after the gig, I felt the need to tell my sister she'd got a ticket... Thankfully I was joking - we had read the signs correctly after all.

There was an odd moment when my sister dropped me off at home. She said she wanted to talk to me about something - 'some comment Kate had made recently'. The way Helen phrased it, I was bracing myself for the worst, since Kate has been saying all kinds of strange things lately. Turns out Kate had expressed a wish to visit her uncle in "his small house". Helen immediately made a big deal out of never having referred to my home as 'small', but it was the fact that Kate even remembered visiting previously that surprised both of us. She wasn't talking, or even particularly mobile at that point.

I said I'd be more than happy to accommodate a visit, but Helen felt it would be better to leave it to another time. On the upside, that allows me to figure out some way of securing my cupboards full of toys...

In further other news, I've now watched the whole of series one of Torchwood on DVD, and it's just as bad as I remember it. One of my least favourite episodes (because it had so much potential) turned out to have been written by Being Human creator Toby Whithouse, so that was an even bigger disappointment. It had one of those daft moments where the villain of the week initially didn't want to go into Torchwood because she was an alien and they'd do nasty things to her... then, all of a sudden, she'd changed her mind and wanted to go into Torchwood because she thought she had the upper hand.

Series one is pretty much made entirely of episodes that had great potential... but the writing and characterisation were so patchy, none of it really came together. The one real highlight was 'Random Shoes', written by Jacquetta May, which was more Police Procedural Drama than Sci-Fi, but even that suffered from a McGuffin that didn't explain its own major story point and a very weak ending.

Series one is also pretty much made entirely of episodes that paint the Torchwood team as utterly incompetent, and unable to respond adequately to even the mildest of alien threats. Funnily enough, since starting to watch the series on DVD, I've found I'm not in a minority in thinking Torchwood was a bit crap. Some folks out here on the interwebs have even gone so far as to say that RTD is a good writer, he just has no respect for Sci-Fi.

I'd certainly agree with half of that statement.

On the upside, series two does seem better (than I remember?)... Even though the introduction of Captain John Hart - using James Marsters' Spike voice for no obvious reason, and dressing like a member of Adam and the Ants - was exceptionally weak, yet still better than most of series one. The big thing to note in series two is the huge change in Jack's character. In short, he's not so much of a dick... But it does have the feel of being somewhat forced when you compare is feelings of empathy for the 'beached alien whale' in episode 4 (Meat) with his complete distrust of Beth/Kayehla Janees in episode 2 (Sleeper). Ianto also gets a better deal - more an Alfred to the combined team Batman, rather than pointless background character with very little to say or do.

Time Well Misspent

So, it's my second day (third just beginning) of being back out of work after a two-month stint on a magazine that got closed just as my new colleagues were trying to get me on the payroll, and I'm already feeling crappy.

It wasn't even helped, yesterday, by a very pleasant - if brief and to-the-point - meeting with a former colleague whose new employers think they have a vacancy I can fill. While it's nice to have my skill-set recognised and appreciated, the more I think about it, the more I dread simply going to work with former colleagues.

It's not even necessarily the specific grouping of individuals... there's just a pervading sense of discomfort at the idea of being with (mostly) the same people in a new environment. How different is it really going to be? Part of it is the fear that my old Office Persona will reassert itself, when I've been enjoying its absence and being more like my real-world self while working as a Temp.

But, I have to admit, the specific grouping of individuals is a big sticking point. The guy that decided he wanted a manager is the guy that tried three times to get his manager sacked when we last worked together. The guy who runs the business is basically a crook, and has employed most of his old drinking buddies as Salespeople, pretty much ensuring poor sales (in terms of quantity and value). Some of these people didn't even start selling till press week (having had three weeks since the last press day), and even then could only close a deal by offering "late space rates", which basically translates as "whoops, there go my knickers!"

On a different note, I spent virtually the whole day today playing Xenoblade Cronicles... it's rather difficult to decide how far I've got in the narrative... based in certain requirements (specifically, the rebuilding of Colony 6) I'd suspect I'm about half- to about two-thirds-through. I'm around Level 65 on all my characters, but there are monsters in the 70s, 80s and above lurking in the earlier maps. Certain elements of combat have 'clicked' over the last couple of times I've played the game, so I'm able to be a bit more proactive with my action selections... and yet I'm still getting slaughtered (occasionally by lower-level Mechon) without really noticing how it happens. I suspect I'm not clearing my debuffs frequently enough...

Story-wise, not a massive amount has happened, really... I've met up with a new faced Mechon, met an important Machina, and got myself to the Machina Capital City inside Mechonis (well, I saved and stopped just before), but the cut-scenes have been fewer and further between. Some of the unique monsters have been an absolute pest, and some of the quests are thoroughly annoying, but I'm still getting more enjoyment out of Xenoblade than most RPGs, and certainly a lot of my other Wii games.

I've also been watching a bit more Torchwood... and finding it just as lacking as it was the first time round. The pilot was reasonably well done for British Sci-Fi (though, on a second viewing, it bugs me immensely that Jack mentions "contraceptives in the rain" only for the concept to be completely ignored thereafter - a true RTD hallmark - the smoking gun is nought but set-dressing) but most episodes after that are confused, wasteful and more than a little bit daft. The characters are inconsistent and behave very immaturely... but it was surprising to be reminded that Jack was portrayed as a bit of a dick from the very beginning.

The last episode I watched was Countrycide... which sets up it's horror fairly well, only to fluff it completely by having some of the main players behave utterly out of character (another true RTD hallmark - as long as the main character is reasonably consistent, everyone else can behave however-the-fuck-they-like), and the finale is deus ex machina of the most ridiculous kind. I mean, come on, where was Jack before his 'grand entrance'? The most disappointing thing is that the final conversation between Gwen and one of the monsters-du-jour should have been utterly chilling, and the actor delivers his line well enough... but something about the whole setting renders it flat.

Suspicion

I can't really offer much of any merit on the subject of friendship. From my early days, only one friend is still around... all the others headed off and started living their lives elsewhere, making new friends along the way. I suppose I kind of did, too... but I'm not someone people tend to keep in touch with, and sometimes that bugs me. Of course, I'm not someone who tends to keep in touch either, so it really shouldn't bug me... and if it does, it's pretty much my own damned fault.

Getting myself onto Facebook hasn't really done anything to improve my record for keeping in touch. I post rarely because I visit rarely. I disabled the chat function almost immediately. I'm not sure I've ever posted on someone else's page, and (so) I don't get much feedback on mine. I dunno... is it meant to be reciprocal? I mean, I was brought up with such maxims as "if you have nothing constructive to say, say nothing" but, clearly, looking at Facebook, the same is not true of everyone else.

What has happened since I marked my page in the evil Book of Faces is that I (accidentally) received an invitation from a former acquaintance and - most recently - a belated birthday greeting from a friend and former colleague with whom I had a fairly spectacular (by my standards) falling out about six or seven years ago. Maybe longer... It certainly pre-dates this blog...

But I'm getting ahead of myself. What happened first was that I got a friend request from her. Being ever the optimist, I accepted... and I considered sending her a brief 'hello' but couldn't really decide what to say. Eventually one of her postings turned up on my page, and it seemed she'd walked out of her job. Not the first time that's happened. A big part of our falling out was due to her being out of work (though, on that occasion, she'd been made redundant). Lacking a home computer of her own, she asked me to print out a dozen or so copies of her CV. I suggested she might like to interview at my office, since we were in dire need of decent people, so I showed my boss her CV.

The net result was that several grammatical errors were found and corrected before the CVs were printed and posted back to her. The day she received them, she called me - spitting nails - to tell me she would not work for someone who would alter another person's CV. I didn't know what to say to that.

Sometime later, she bought a home computer of her own (probably to avoid future possibilities of somebody else correcting her CV) and we had a conversation about modems. I had a spare - it's amazing how many 'spare' things my family tend to accrue - and I offered to give it to her and even set it up for her. Unfortunately the day we arranged to get together for this purpose, there were certain transport issues. I couldn't get to the station we'd normally meet at, so we arranged to meet somewhere both of us could get to...

...And, naturally, things didn't go according to plan on the day. I arrived half an hour early and, this being in the days before I had a cellphone, I wasn't able to get in touch with her or my home. I waited for a full hour and, when she hadn't turned up, I decided to head home.

When I got home, I was told she'd called - spitting nails - because I hadn't turned up, and she'd been repeatedly badgered by taxi drivers for being parked where she shouldn't have been.

A penny dropped at that point - I realised she hadn't even gone where we'd agreed to meet, she'd gone to the station I wasn't able to get to, which has a taxi rank out front. Since I wasn't in the best of moods, I decided not to call her back immediately.

Not calling her back immediately turned into not calling for a few days, and I soon received a telephone message - one of those txt-to-electronic-voice messages telling me I was a terrible friend not only for not being where I said I'd be (hah!) but for not calling to apologise. Then, as now, I knew my reasoning: I wasn't about to set myself up to be shouted at again for being on the wrong end of her misunderstandings and mistakes, so I didn't bother responding to that message, and didn't speak to her again.

Cut to that Facebook friend request.

Half of me was happy and optimistic - perhaps we could be friends again. After all, I'd missed her (kinda) and it would be nice, for once, to get an old friend back.

The other half of me was deeply suspicious, particularly when her posting about walking out of her job came up. And when she sent me the message - essentially "happy birthday, I'm signed off work with stress and, by the way, are you still working in the same place?" - my cynical side bristled. She wasn't trying to get her old friend back, was she? She was just looking for a way out of her current job that didn't involve going unpaid for months.

But the optimist won out, and I messaged her back saying that I'd been made redundant at the end of 2010...

...and I still haven't heard another peep out of her.