Following on from Imperium, Lustrum is the second novel in a trilogy apparently planned by Robert Harris. Like the first novel, it's a fictionalized account of the fascinating life of the Roman senator Cicero, self-styled Father of Rome and the forerunner of modern politics and one of the most gifted and powerful politicians at a time when Julius Caesar was hell-bent on turning Rome from democracy to dictatorship.

It's said that history is always written from the point of view of the winners and Caesar is usually one of those most glorified. What makes this so fascinating is that it's written from the perspective of those who opposed him, who fought for the Republic. Caesar, here, is not a sympathetic character, but shown as a political mastermind, cold-blooded would-be dictator, ruthless in his pursuit of power.

But it's Cicero who is the central figure, although it is his constant clashes with Caesar and his allies that form the heart of this novel. While Imperium dealt with Cicero's unexpected rise to power, from humble beginnings to voice of the people, this novel deals with both his successes and his failures. Cicero nearly single-handedly saved the Roman empire from armed rebellion and civil war, but made powerful enemies in the process.

Unlike many novels set in Rome, however, this does not deal with the military victories, nor the lusty excesses, except in passing, but deals more in politics and legal drama. It's a success of Harris' focus that he deals with the affairs of the senate and the people and avoids sensationalism, instead bringing the well-known persona to life with deft, human touches and an eye for character rather than dealing in archetypes. Once again the book is written from the viewpoint of Cicero's slave Tiro, inventor of shorthand, and it's that voice that allows the great and the famous to be brought down to human levels - for example, his first, and main recollection of Mark Antony is his terrible acne.

Unlike his recent political thrill The Ghost, Harris once again triumphs by returning to historical events rather than attempting to be contemporary. The life of Cicero is a fascinating one and it's made even more fascinating by Harris' prose, lifting details and dialogue from Cicero's surviving writings, but also imbuing the semi-mythical figures with much humanity as they weave their political webs.

I've recently grown to be obsessed with The Thick of It, Armando Iannucci's razor sharp political comedy, which can be, perhaps, best described for colonials as like The West Wing meets The Office. Armando Iannucci's been on the scene for a number of years, behind the brilliant news spoof The Day Today, I'm Alan Partridge, Knowing Me, Knowing You, producing The Mary Whitehouse Experience and more. In The Loop is ostensibly the big screen version of The Thick of It, with a few American characters thrown in, although, in actual fact, while the cast return for the big screen version, they play different characters, with the exception of Peter Capaldi, still in the same role as the monstrous spin doctor Malcolm Tucker.

However, a polish on the British cast aside, the trick is expanding the bumbling incompetence and ruthless back-stabbing of The Thick of It from Whitehall to include Washington and adding the over-arching plot of the lead-up to a proposed war. It's hardly a stretch to see where the writers got their inspiration - one of the standing jokes is that the group proposing war are officially known as the "Future Planning Committee".

The satire's savage, whether it's in the form of ineffectual ‘meat puppet’ British minister Simon Foster, (brilliantly played by Tom Hollander) triggering an international crisis with a poorly chosen choice of phrase and desperately trying to please both advocates for war and peace and coming off as a bungling incompetent whatever he does, or Malcolm Tucker struggling to come to terms with the fact that he might be top dog in London, but in Washington he's just another number in the meat grinder. The stand-off with James Gandolfini as a Pentagon General is one of the highlights of the movie.

Capaldi is, of course, the pulse of the film - an expletive and vitriol spitting, relentless monster - but Hollander provides as much of the comedy, clearly out of his depth throughout and ineptly assisted by his PA Toby (Chris Addison), while the US cast includes Mimi Kennedy and Anna Chlumsky in addition to Galdolfini and they make the most of the satire they're given, especially in their dealings with Enzo Cilenti, the ambitious, and youthful, aide.

So, if you like your satire subtle, razor sharp and aren't offended by cuss words, and plenty of them, this is the movie for you. In fact, let's not mince words here, this movie is probably the best political satire we're likely to see after Doctor Strangelove. Strong praise indeed.

And so the door closes on the Potterverse and my series of reviews on them, as I finish the last in the series.

Firstly, the book doesn't disappoint in many ways. It's as readable as the rest of the series, more so than some, the pace picks up considerably and builds to a climax that, while not flawless, is generally satisfying and certainly not disappointing. But the book's definitely not without flaws and as such is representative of the series as a whole.

The major issue is, as expected, another problem with pacing. It's once again horribly uneven. The book's action packed, wonderfully so, but suffers simply because, after two books of barely any developments, suddenly there's masses to pack into the final volume. As usual, there's the problems of drawn out chapters filled with unnecessary exposition or stumbling around one forest or another killing any pace, but then the action sequences kick in and it's all hunkydory again. But by trying to pack not one, but two quests into the final volume - both for the Horcruxes and the hitherto unmentioned Deathly Hallows - along with trying to build in an ultimately satisfying ending, it's too much for one book to contain. No wonder the movie makers decided to split things over two films. Trying to pack both quests into one book seemed a step too far - as I said in the last review, the quest for the Horcruxes deserved a novel of its own and shuffling around the previous two volumes could easily have solved that issue.

( More spoilery stuff under the cut. )

The second of this year's special episodes of Doctor Who (in place of a regular series as the BBC tried to bribe parliament into increasing the television license fee by holding back some of their top rating shows claiming they didn't have the cash).

RTD is one of those writers where the ideas are all too often better than the execution - For every Utopia there's been a Last of the Time Lords. For every Turn Left a Partners in Crime. The Waters of Mars is definitely closer to the top end of the scale after the last disappointing special which killed any excitement from the exotic filming locations with Lara Croft-lite and the flying bus. It's back down to essentials as the Tardis materializes near the first life-supporting base on Mars (slyly named Bowie Base One) and then follows the basic mold of the classic Who adventure and the standard sci-fi and slasher movies where a group of diverse and roughly sketched characters fight the monster du jour.

The only trouble with this is that the basic plot is a little too close to 42 or The Impossible Planet, following an almost identical mold. Still, it's a classic, but nonetheless, it's getting a bit creaky by now.

However, the subplot is what lifts the episode above the norm, thanks to guest star Lindsay Duncan, who adds real gravitas to her role, while Tennant gets the chance to bust out his acting chops once more, alternating between excited, sorrowful, vengeful and haunted with a rapidity that rivals Eccleston's quickfire mood changes. Certainly the most effective scenes in the episode are the two-handers between Tennant and Duncan. The darkness that creeps in, by the point most kids are safely hid behind the sofa, presumably, is surprising and it's understandable that the BBC chose to move this episode from Christmas day. Despite the splashes of snow, funny robot and a Marley-esque moment, it would have been too dark to be seasonal.

As has been repeatedly stated, this episode was set up as being the "beginning of the end" for Tennant's Doctor. I'm not sure it establishes that as clearly as the writers might have intended, but certainly the darkness that starts to creep in, then jump in with bloody great boots on, ensuring that everyone knows that something REALLY SERIOUS™ is to come.

So, with this special the game is stepped up and proves to be quite a compelling view, making the most of its guest stars (Shane from Neighbors joins Jim from Neighbors and Charlene from Neighbors in cropping up in a Whoniverse story) and a simple, but damn creepy design for the villains.

Even the (deliberately) irritating funny robot couldn't drag things down too far. But amidst all the cracking acting and dark turns there had to be something for the kids, right?

Another Harry Potter book down and, although I found it an inoffensive read, once again I'm left to wonder why this series of novels got kids and adults salivating so badly. While there's stuff to enjoy here, it's undoubtedly the weakest of the series and frankly the series as a whole seems to have serious flaws, particularly with pacing and plotting, and this book's no exception to the pattern - three quarters filler with only the last quarter that seems to tie into the over-arching plot, stuffed with rushed action and extended exposition.

And the main problem I have with J.K. Rowling is the way she constantly builds things up over the course of a novel and then immediately deflates them. It's happened a lot over the last couple of novels. For example, in the Order of the Phoenix, the whole weighty novel builds around Voldemort trying to get his hands on a prophesy about him and Harry. The whole novel. And when it's destroyed, it's suddenly revealed that Dumbledore knew what was in it all the time. Not only that, but in this novel it's revealed Voldemort does too, since Snape overheard and told him. And then there's the fact that when Harry reveals the prophesy to his friends there's literally the line from Hermione saying "Yes, we thought it would be something like that." Well, if everyone bloody knew or guessed, why was it a big chuffing deal?

Similarly in this novel, there's the whole deal of Slughorn's missing memory. This is built up as being of utmost importance. Dumbledore insists that Harry discover what was in it, proclaiming it to be the most important mission Harry can have. When he discovers about the Horcruxes and reveals it to Dumbledore instead of the grand revelation, the rug's immediately pulled out from under the plot. "Oh yeah," says Dumbledore. "Multiple Horcruxes? I knew that already. Figured it out from that diary. Oh, and I've spent the last few months hunting them down and already found two, so, y'know, bit of a waste of your time, really."

It's frustrating because it basically negates vast swathes of the last couple of novels. The prophesy's not really important since Dumbledore and Voldemort already knew all about it. The two thirds of the novel that Harry spends trying to get the missing memory from Slughorn seems like a waste of bloody time. It's these plotting issues that really kill it for me. There's plenty of good in the books, but again, a hell of a lot of filler and then what plot there is is negated by pointless reasons for keeping Harry in the dark and sending him to discover what most of the characters already knew or had figured out. And the whole "mystery" of the identity of the Half Blood Prince, which is barely even a plot point, despite being the title.

That said, there's some good here - the Draco plotline's solid, there's plenty of dark and thrilling moments, the climax exciting, Slughorn's intriguing, the early chapters are atmospheric - but then it all seems to dwindle away. In a situation where Voldemort is murdering people daily, the danger is raised considerably, the bulk of the novel being about who wins which quidditch matches, who's dating who and other rather trite distraction is genuinely bewildering. Possibly not as bewildering as where the hell the sudden romances between Hermione and Ron and Harry and Ginny (who hitherto had the character development of a cardboard cutout) came from, but bewildering nevertheless.

I can sympathise with JK Rowling though. What she delivered in this novel was basically the same sort of stuff as previously. But expectations for the series seemed to be through the roof - far more than anyone can deliver or, in my opinion, than the series has ever delivered. There's some entertaining bits for sure, but the expectation that things would be kicked up a gear with the penultimate novel certainly aren't met. It doesn't work as a stand alone novel, like the early books did, and aside from the last fifth of the novel, it doesn't add anything much to the over-arching plot either.

And bad show for having all of my personal ship Luna and Neville's kick-assery happening off camera. Again. Would it have killed to have them appear properly as characters and not just mentioned in passing? I love those crazy kids and would certainly have enjoyed a page or two devoted to their battles alongside the Order of the Phoenix over another page of Won Wons.

So, last night I went and saw Rob Brydon live. For the colonials amongst you Rob's a Welsh actor, writer, comedian, radio and TV presenter and impressionist. And voice over artist (he worked many of his most "famous" ad voiceovers into a hilarious routine). Oh, and chart topper. (Okay, with a comedy cover of Islands in the Stream for Comic Relief, but it still counts.)

All in all it was an hysterical couple of hours of freewheeling knockabout comedy, blending traditional standup with anecdotal tracts (a section describing the home birth of his fourth child was particularly memorable), some music (including that cover of Islands in the Stream as an encore) and an awful lot of improvised back-and-forth with the audience.

In fact, the improvised stuff seemed to take up most of the two hours. While there were clearly scripted moments, the majority of the evening was based around banter with the audience, culminating in an improvised song about all the people he'd chatted with during the course of the night, including Greg, the self employed hog roaster ("Have hog, will travel"). He belongs in that rare group of comedians (like Eric Morecambe) who are just naturally funny and while his scripted routines undoubtedly had their moments, it was the off-the-cuff audience interaction that provided the real gold.

For this reason, the show felt like a genuine, never-to-be-repeated event. Be it the jabs at the lazy fireman who refused to use the pole and took the stairs, the vet who turned out to be an animal pathologist or the old-before-his-time furniture dealer. All too often going to see a comedian live is a disappointing even as they trawl out the same routine they did on that live DVD you own, with no variation. With the bulk of the show being improvised banter, you know if you went to see Brydon next week it'd be something completely different (possibly because he wouldn't be out of his mind on cold remedies).

There was also room for a few on-the-money impressions of Ronnie Corbett, Rolf Harris, Bruce Forsyth and, memorably, Al Pacino reading The Gruffalo (probably the highlight of the evening for me - "What... the FUCK... IS A GRUFFALO?"). Along with a few swipes at friend Steve Coogan.

The support act, Hal Cruttenden, was no slouch either, treating the audience to a very funny routine on how hard life can be for a terribly camp straight man.

A great evening in all.

"Mr. Rafiel's bloodhound - his avenging angel. She looks so harmless, doesn't she? But her camouflage is perfect because she is partly just what she seems - a gossipy old village lady, but her logic is ruthless and her powers of synthesis formidable. And above all she never lets go."

I've recently been addicted to the BBC's adaptations of Agatha Christie's Miss Marple stories when I picked up the DVD in response to the star studded, but lamentable, recent ITV productions. I've always had a soft spot for Miss Marple, far more so than Christie's more famous creation Poirot.

Originally airing between 1984 and 1992 the BBC adaptated all twelve of the Miss Marple novels, featuring the superlative Joan Hickson in the title role. I remember watching many of the adaptations as a child (a good murder mystery is just the ticket for kids. I certainly recall being terrified by the chilling murderer in The Sleeping Murder, with their hands like "grey, monkey paws".) The complete DVD collection is 1,360 minutes of solid, glossy crime, with some fabulous scripts from playwrights like Alan Plater, a cast of great British character actors (Joan Sims, Peter Davison, Samantha Bond, Paul Eddington, Donald Pleasence, Liz Fraser, Josh Ackland and many others), and directed by some memorable directors, including the Boulting Brother's Roy Boulting.

Most impressive though is Joan Hickson, who's widely regarded as the definitive Miss Marple. (After seeing Hickson in an adaptation of her "Appointment With Death," as early as 1946 Christie reportedly sent her a note expressing the hope she would one day "play my dear Miss Marple.") She play Miss Marple not as a simpering twitterer nor as a comical eccentric, but as a rather stiff upright observer whose gaze can be unflinching. As she says in Nemesis: "He called me Nemesis, you know, and he wasn't being entirely humorous". You might invite Margaret Rutherford's Marple out for drinks. You'd probably wonder why sprightly Angela Lansbury was hanging out with all the fuddy duddies. You'd certainly pretend to be out if ghastly Geraldine McEwan battered on the door with a gin bottle.. It's Joan Hickson who you'd choose to solve your murder. Hickson quietly layers Miss Marple with the many qualities that make her a good detective and a good person—keen reasoning skills, a willingness to really look and listen, patience, a little sadness and cynicism, perseverance, and, of course, an ear for gossip. As Inspector Slack memorably states in one of the episodes, "She's a little old lady who knits and wears lace. She also has a mind like a bacon slicer. It's a very good disguise." And all the while quintesentially the grande dame of the village circle - unflinching and unforgiving, whilst politely sipping at her tea.

The collection of adaptations is excellent and, unlike the more recent ITV adaptations, true to the books with slight exceptions (the wonderful, unsubtle, long-suffering and insufferable Inspector Slack is slipped into a couple of the adaptations where he was otherwise absent), but there's none of the playing hard and fast with the stories or attempts to modernize them - the period detail is near perfect and feels true, rather than forcing political correctness onto a character that would undoubtedly be of her time. It's a strength of the performances and the screenwriting that even the most irritating Christie-isms, where red herrings crop up to the point of ridiculousness, don't spoil the enjoyment of the adaptations of a whole.

The boxed set includes The Body in the Library, At Bertram’s Hotel, The Moving Finger, Nemesis, A Murder Is Announced, 4.50 from Paddington, A Pocketful of Rye, A Caribbean Mystery, Murder at the Vicarage, They Do it with Mirrors, Sleeping Murder, The Mirror Crack’d from Side to Side, of which my favourite is probably Nemesis, where Miss Marple is a fearless and unforgiving avenging angel in tweed.

All of which, with the unforgettable (trust me, I've tried) theme music makes this one of the most enjoyable boxed sets I've picked up in a very long time.

There's a certain addictiveness with the Harry Potter books that's hard to deny. It's a sensible move that the novels mature with their audience, so by the time we get to this, the fifth book in the series, it's more in-depth, more teen-angsty than the previous outings with a nice line in dark and twisted moments.

However, in other ways it's a disappointment. The book's hard to put down and doesn't feel its length, but it's hard to deny there's an awful lot of prose that doesn't really add a lot to the plot. There's not as much pure filler as the last novel, with Hermione's house elf obsession thankfully shuffled to one side this time around, but there's undoubtedly a lot of time devoted to certain plotlines that, in the end, don't really tie into the novel's climax. Again. And what's all that repetition needed for? How many time does Harry have to lose his temper and yell at his friends? How many times does his stomach have to jump to show that he's somewhat in love with Cho? And how many punishments and disappointments does he have to suffer to show that his fifth year at Hogwarts is not an easy one? How many scrapes do Fred and George have to get into?

And all the extra wordage doesn't always help the characterisations. Take for example, Delores Umbridge. In the movie version I found her to be a wonderful, rather satirical villain. In the novel less so, since she's so obviously described as repulsive a toad-like and pantomime-villainous from the first rather than the semi-subtlety of Imelda Staunton's performance. Given her presence throughout the novel, I was expecting some kind of tie-in to the climax - instead she's a hindrance throughout and then is not-so-neatly shuffled aside to make room for the real villain to appear.

Then there's the disappointing way some of the old characters are used. While Snape and Neville finally get further developed and Hermione gets to demonstrate she's wise as well as smart, Ron is given nothing of interest to do and doesn't contribute to the plot at all, while Hagrid and Dumbledore are screwed over rather, with the former's repeated oblivious tendency to put his friends in mortal peril and the latter's unsympathetic and illogical reasons for being a jerk to Harry for most of the novel. And Sirius is pretty much only tolerable because of remembrance of Gary Oldman's charismatic performances in the movies rather than the portrayal in the novel.

Of course, Harry's whiny bad temper would be off-putting by itself, but since I've never found him particularly sympathetic anyway, I can't say it bothered me too much. In one way I rather liked that the heroes demonstrated more shades of grey and Harry wasn't portrayed as being the perfect, lucky bastard of previous novels and he and his friends aren't saved by some magical doohicky at the end of the book and there are losses. It's especially nice to see his "heroic" father and god-father had plenty of darkness in their souls and Rowling isn't afraid to show Harry himself as a typical teenager - making him aggressive, loud, irritating and out and out obnoxious at times. Whether there's much fun in that depends on your mileage, though.

So some good, mixed with the bad. The trouble is, while the earlier novels were light on detail, I found this one went the opposite way. I didn't care about the ins and outs of the quiddich teams or a daily breakdown of the character's revision timetables. And 25 pages of exposition at the end of the novel is rather too many, let's face it.

In fairness, however, despite its length and the amount of unnecessary storylines tagged onto the central plot, I didn't feel like putting the book down at any point. In fact, I found it rather addictive and read it a lot quicker and easier than I was expecting why I first picked it up. However, I couldn't help but feel that the tempo should have picked up rather more than it did - the return of Voldemort apparently meant nothing more than a few bad dreams for Harry and him attempting to hear a prophesy. Hardly the terrifying weapon we'd been hearing about and the confrontation with Voldemort isn't exactly gripping. For book five I was expecting a more climactic plot than I got.

From what I hear, and from the movie adaptation, I can look forward to more teenage soap opera in the next book and very little plot, but if the book's as easy to read as this was, despite its numerous flaws, I won't mind that much.

I've been hitting a few new releases over the past week or so - I've finished Terry Pratchett's latest and am onto the new Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy novel. But first about the Pratchett.

Unseen Academicals is the latest Discworld novel and, like Making Money, The Truth and Going Postal other recent entries in the series, it focuses on the idea of taking a modern concept - in this case, football - into the Discworld setting.

The trouble is that it becomes clear very early on that the book doesn't really know what it wants to do. Is it an intelligent comment on individuality vs tribalism? Is it a funny book about the wizards attempting to learn football? Is it a romance story? Is it an introspective on being the best you can be, no matter where you came from? The answer is: probably.

And the trouble with trying to be so many things is that it ends up not being anything much. Oh, it's funny enough, but with too many characters and plotlines fighting for attention - it starts off being about the wizards and they soon end up being more like cameos by the end of the book with their plotline forgotten as the new (and, frankly, blander) characters take over. The new characters, Glenda, Juliet and Mr Nutt and so forth are from the same stable that brought forth Moist, Christine and Pteppic and a number of other characters that strike me as being equally unmemorable. There's loose ends that never get resolved, details that don't quite ring true to characters/scenarios from previous books, and stray bits of story that just don't fit in anywhere.

Then there are the cameos, be they the Librarian, Rincewind, Sam Vimes or whoever, who circle into the story's orbit without contributing much, often act vaguely out of character and don't appear to be there for any reason other than being there. Vetinari's appearance is worth the price of admission for the scene where he gets drunk but I'm not sure when he got to be so chatty and gregarious.

Although the book is enjoyable, Pratchett doesn't really seek to break the mold or take things to the next level, like he did with Nation. It was a book I found all too easy to put down - while usually I'd finish a Pratchett novel in a couple of days, this took almost a week to get through. It's not bad, it's just not that great either - sadly, part of the course for recent Pratchett.

So, I've just finished reading the fourth book in the Harry Potter series. And the longest. My conclusion when I saw the movie was that it was a rather slight story with lots of filler. My conclusion when I read the book was that the movie did a good job slimming down the story, because the book is filled with so much padding and filler material. It might be the longest book in the series so far, but it's certainly not the most accomplished.

Where the movie succeeded was streamlining the action sequences into a rapidly moving plotline. In the novel, the action sequences are less fully realized and thrilling and also interspersed with, I felt, unnecessary subplots and diversions. At least a third of the book, all the distractions of Hermione's interest in House Elves that went nowhere, for example, and the Rita Skeeter stuff, could have been cut entirely and the book would lose nothing. In fact it would be improved since these, and the subplot with Ron sulking at Harry for far too long or Hermione and Ron's bitching were irritations more than thrilling. I find Dobby to be an annoying character anyway and an entire subplot of the book focused on the House Elves which then just meanders off into nothing both feels like filler and saddles the readers with more bloody Dobby.

In fact, it's only the last 50 or so pages which are pivotal and even then, they're pretty much pure exposition to explain the previous 600 or so pages and stuff that's happened to Voldemort since killing Harry's parents. At which point it starts reading more like a text book than a novel. Lord Voldemort doesn't really come across as a compelling or interesting villain because he spends about five sold pages barely pausing for breath in his Bond-villainesque explanation of his past and future plans. And then when he does fight Harry, once again a random magical incident (IE a fluke with no build up and minimal explanation) is what allows Harry to escape, smacking of those magical swords in hats and phoenix tears that acted as deus ex machina in previous volumes. While the mysteries wrought throughout the book are nicely tied up, these instant fixes are an irritation.

It's funny that so much of the book is filler when the one character who deserved to get some fleshing out, namely Cedric, never was. It made the emotional impact of the climax weaker when instead we'd had graphic descriptions of Ron sulking for 50 pages or a blow by blow account of the Quidditch world cup.

Other than that, the character work does, at least, ring true this time around. The main three are childish, irritating to the point of wanting to bang their heads together when they've had yet another falling out over nothing and mostly immature with occasional flashes of acting like adults - in other words, more like the 14 year olds they're supposed to be. Unlike when the characters were supposed to be 11 and acting far older. The only flaw in making the characters act their ages is that, frankly, teenage kids are as irritating all all get out and there's limited appeal in reading about yet another sulk one of them's got into.

However, the formula's starting to get a bit tired now and it seems like this is the book where Rowling started to believe her own hype and was left freedom to roam without an editor's pruning shears cutting away the dead wood. As another review puts it nicely: "It's as if one were making chocolate chip cookies and doubled the recipe for dough but put in the same amount of chips as for one batch".

By far my favourite book of the series so far (and likely to remain so, if the movies are representative of the novels), the third book in the Harry Potter series definitely sets the novels going in a direction that I can enjoy. More mature than the previous two books, with a decent plot and twists along the way, there was plenty to enjoy here.

The enriching of the Potter universe was certainly welcomed. Adding layers to the framework established in the first two books and dealing with the story of Harry's parents deaths, the story dealing with betrayal and murder felt a lot more epic than the rather lightweight plots of the previous outings. The addition of macabre elements such as the Dementors and the concept that good guys aren't always that good (in the case of Black, the Dementors, Harry's father, even Harry himself) helped with the maturing tone.

After the ridiculousness of Lockhart in the last book, the calm pleasantness of Lupin and the rage of Sirius Black were far more believable, although the divination teacher Professor Trelawney veered towards being another over-the-top and unsympathetic addition to the book. (Again, it's another of those characters who I felt came across better on-screen than in the novel.) Snape gets some layers too, which is welcome after the cardboard cutout version in the first two books which never seemed to justify his importance in the series.

I'm still not particularly enamored with the character of Harry himself - although he wasn't given everything on a plate in this book and had to actually work at being heroic and making the right decisions. He came off a lot better although, frankly, his and Ron's attitude towards Hermione for most of the book made them look like enormous arseholes to the point where I was hoping that Black would get the little buggers.

The plot's the strong thing here, though. A real page turner and, though once again a deus ex machina pops up at the end to help resolve things, it's not quite as neat or happy as the previous books. The numerous plot threads do weave together nicely, however, and reach a satisfying, if sad, conclusion. Better in plot, better in characterisation, better in twists and worldbuilding, it's certainly a step up from the previous books.

Good stuff.

Finished Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. Started on Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. Quite a high turn around at the moment - the books are and easy read and I'm romping through them in four or five sittings.

A mixed bag in Chamber of Secrets. I think it helped that I'd seen the film before, which I felt was better in some regards. Kenneth Branagh's overdone hamminess was so over-the-top in the movie it became silly enough to be entertaining - in the book the character of Gilderoy Lockhart was so obviously incompetent, it's hard to believe Dumbledore wasn't being given his marching orders for hiring him and without the visuals of Branagh's performance to add some fun, the character seemed pointless. Lockhart, in the end, contributed nothing, not even accidentally, to the climax of the story. It almost felt like the book was written with the intent of having some pay off with the character at the end - perhaps his memory spells holding the key to defeating the villain - but that never came. In the end, I was left wondering quite what the character added to the book.

It felt particularly jarring given all the work to get Lockhart on scene in the climax and then to pluck a bunch of magical fixes from nowhere to help defeating the villain. Be it phoenixes springing from nowhere, magic swords appearing literally at the drop of a hat, magically healing tears, poison teeth - it felt like Rowling couldn't settle on one way to defeat the villain and so just threw everything in. Which could have made for an impressive climax, but just means, instead, everything's tossed into the two or three pages it takes to defeat the villain. It's all deeply unsatisfying when the revealed villain is a great twist - too much focus on that, perhaps, and not enough thought given on how to defeat the monster from the Chamber of Secrets.

Then there's the issue of Harry and friends refusing to trust anyone who previously they had been given reason to trust. The logic behind lying to Dumbledore, for example, is lost on me and the sudden distrust of Harry's friends and classmates on the flimsiest of pretexts gets very old very quickly. In fact, with all the lying and stealing done throughout the book, I'm

And then there was Dobby the bloody House bloody Elf who was just as annoying in the book as onscreen. Can't stand the little bugger.

So that's the bad. The good? Harry certainly came across as more sympathetic this time around and less of a jock. That was a definite improvement and likewise the supporting cast, Lockhart aside, are nicely handled. My one issue was with the character of Ginny, who's barely sketched out and when she becomes the focus of the villain's plot, the concern's there more from her association from the central characters than any sympathy for her as a character. That aside, Dumbledore does get some good moments and some decent cod philosophy and the trio of central characters are more likable as well as Hagrid getting his back story.

The reveal of the villain is a great twist and nicely handled and ties into the history of Hogwarts, which starts to feel more unique this time around. The school and history start to get fleshed out more, less reliant on recycled ideas this time around and that creates a richer world. The decent set pieces help too - the scene with Aragog and family for example - standing out nicely against a mystery plot that bubbles along.

In all, a decent enough read. I'm still hard pressed to see why these books captured the imaginations of kids and adults quite as much as they have, but this book with its richer language, does go a step towards explaining it.

Speaking of recent television, I've got myself hooked on Gordon Ramsay's Kitchen Nightmares after discovering that Channel 4 has every episode available for viewing on their 4oD online service. Unlike the BBC iPlayer, this has a lot of old series, not just recent programming. And it's been an opportunity to get hooked on Ramsay's expose of failing restaurants.

Of course, colonials in the audience may be familiar with the US version, but I've been watching the true Brit version, where restaurant owners don't collapse into floods of emotional tears at the end of every episode and where there's even more unbleeped obscenity. Despite Ramsay's foul mouth and tendency to rile people up just to get a reaction, I like the guy and I always found the show fascinating. However, I missed a bunch first time around, so in the space of about four days I've managed to get addicted and watch a dozen episodes or more.

The formula, for those that don't know it, is pretty simple. Grumbling Ramsay is invited to a failing restaurant to offer advice to turn the business around. Now, the advice that is given on Kitchen Nightmares is usually pretty uniform. Clean kitchen. Motivate staff. Redecorate. Local produce. Reasonable prices. Work hard. Make money.

Of course, it's getting the restaurant owners and staff to realise that which is the entertaining part. Usually that involves Gordon swearing, shouting, getting exasperated and throwing out something beloved of the owners, then pushing his own menu. And it's the variations on this that make the interesting part. Take, for example, the episode featuring The Fish and Anchor in Wales, where the bright blue eaterie was inhabited by ex-Boxer Mike, who copied all his recipes from Ramsay's home cook books and writes his reviews himself, and his wife Caron, with an an explosive temper and memorably described as "like f**king Shrek in a frock". The arguments there were biblical. With each other, with Ramsay, with the customers. For once Ramsay played it softly, clearly recognising that if he spoke to Mike like he did some of the milder landlords he'd be looking in the tinned curry for his teeth.

But what's lovely is that Ramsay does manage to turn things around in many cases and when he returns, the places he's visited and the people he's touched usually are better for it. In the case of Mike and Caron, not just a saved business, but a saved marriage, seemingly, as well. But getting there is a rocky, including near fist-fights and a distressing accident that nearly ends the relaunch for good.

However, just occasionally there's one episode where Gordon just can't make it work. Take the case of Rachel, originally from Scotland, but now trying to run a vegetarian restaurant in Paris which was losing 5000 euros a month. Bailed out by daddy's money, and despite his and Gordon's help and the appearance of talented new chef India (after Ramsay had to physically carry a crazed Brazilian off the premises), Rachel managed to blow the chance within four days, deciding she just couldn't be bothered. The laziness and bad attitude was staggering ("Since I closed it's like a weight's been lifted from my shoulders!" But not daddy's, who had to pay off her massive loans and debts) and it was clear the prospect of having to actually work for a living was too much. Most people come out of the experience better. Rachel, by the end of the show, was demonstrated to be even more selfish, lazy and repulsive than previously imagined. Good news for India, however, who made such a strong impression she was given a placement at one of Ramsay's own London restaurants.

It's great TV, anyway, and the stark reminder that two thirds of restaurants close within their first year is brought home by show after show of people clearly out of their depths who had no clue what they were getting into. Running a restaurant or pub might seem an idyllic fantasy, but this show demonstrates how much bloody hard work it has to be to succeed.

Last night I ended up watching "102 Minutes That Changed America", History's documentary on 9/11 which was shown for the first time on Channel 4 here in the UK. For those who aren't aware of it, it's less a documentary and more a real time compilation of raw video footage, mostly from amateurs, taken in New York during the events along with recordings of emergency calls taken and radio communications between the emergency services.

And it was hard watching. It brought it all home to me that I was there less than a year before and recognizing specific places from my visit from footage taken during the attack... well, it provoked a pretty strong emotional response, let's say.

All of it, of course, is hard to watch: the people leaping from the upper floors; the firefighters, some presumably doomed, headed toward the buildings while everyone else is running away. But one of the things that set this apart from the other films that cover the events was the uniqueness of the footage. It’s not all familiar: just where you’re expecting one of the well-known long shots of the second plane flying into the south tower, you get a startling close-up image taken by two New York University students from their dorm window. The point where the conversation between the two off-camera students turns to screams of horror is one of the most chilling and heartwrenching things I've ever heard. Or the recurring view of the burning buildings, from an apartment a mile north of the site, that seems unremarkable until you listen to the accompanying audio: a child’s voice keeps asking what’s going on, and the parents are heard shooing the youngster away, trying to shield the child from the reality they can hardly comprehend themselves.

Elsewhere, firemen are heard reaching survivors on the 70th floor of the Tower as colleagues attempt to reach them for support; a dispatch controller is heard to tell WTC workers to stay put as rescuers attempt to reach them; crowds convene in Times Square to watch the events on big screens and vent their anger at those who could have perpetrated the atrocities. And then the moments as the towers come down, where a lot of the footage is unique and all of it personal.

I'm choking up now just thinking about it and, needless to say, I spent most of the 102 minutes of the programme sat there feeling sick and trying not to cry. But as a historical document, I don't think any better has been produced. This is powerful and harrowing stuff, made all the more so by the fact that it was all recorded as it happened, by the people who witnessed it, without editorial comments. It should not be missed by anyone who cares, or is interested, about one of the moments that shaped the world in which we live today and probably, hopefully, the most horrifying of our lifetimes.

As mentioned, I finished reading the first Harry Potter book - Harry Potter and the Philosohthatsabigwordletscallitsourcerersinstead Stone a couple of days back.

Presumably I found it enjoyable enough, as I've now started on the second. So, thoughts.

In all honesty, it probably fitted my expectations, which weren't that high for the first book - I was expecting a kid friendly, entertaining book and got it. What I don't get is why the book set the world alight. I mean, it's certainly okay, but it's not startling to the level that I could get uber excited about it.

The Roald Dahlisms started to fade after the first chapter or so, but there was still plenty that smacked of his style of prose, but Harry Potter himself certainly isn't a Roald Dahl type hero. Compare Harry to James or Charlie - surrounded by monstrous characters but they wouldn't wish harm on them. In fact, Charlie was the kind of lad who expressed concern even for the monstrous brats he was having adventures with. Not so Harry Potter, who seems to spend most of the book wishing harm on people - be it Malfoy, Snape or Dudley, he always seems to be looking for a fight. While Charlie might have seemed too saintly, Harry comes across as rather aggressive and with a mean streak - literally his first line on being told he'll be able to do magic is not to express the desire to do something wonderful, but to curse his cousin.

Harry in the movie was a much more sympathetic character than he came across in the book for me. In the movies he comes across as shy and self doubting. In this first book, more obnoxious and jock-like than anything, good at sport, quick with a smart-ass remark, ready to pick fights, nursing grudges. It's funny because his in-book personality comes across slightly at odds with how twee and sickly sweet a lot of the rest of the book is. It's all very jolly hockeysticks, Enid Blyton (and at best a wannabe Tom Brown's Schooldays) in a way that's too sympathetic to be properly spoofing the public school genre. And I'd have given my right arm for there to be a decent Flashman type character instead of just Malfoy, who's fairly obnoxious, but hardly enough to justify the worst enemy *fistshakes* attitude from the central character. He's just a git and a fairly limp one at that.

Of course, the plot's fairly slight and it's mostly just a set up novel to introduce readers to the fantasy world of the character and in that it succeeds well. There's not really a whole lot that's original in the setting though - it seems more a lumping of cliches together, be they magical or public-school based, along with a generic big bad looming over everything. It all seemed rather derivative, but at least Rowling stole remixed other works and mythology and mixed it together in a way that wasn't entirely lifted from other books. but there's just a few too many moment where it was "oh, that scene's like..." I felt the book lacked the original concept that would really make it something truly new, though.

And that's a little where the book falls down - it's brief for the benefit of children, but rather relies on the readers knowing about dragons and ghosts and what mystical castles look like without much descriptive prose. I rather like a wordy description to aid the imagination myself, but so I would have rather liked a better idea of what something like Diagon Alley looked like, but on the other hand, encouraging a healthy imagination is to be encouraged too.

It's interesting to see how the book compares to the movies, though. It's clear certain casting was inspired, other roles an improvement on how they're written in the book (despite Rowling's claim that she "always had Maggie Smith in mind" for McGonagall, that doesn't tie in with the physical description of her in the book at all, but the movie version is an improvement) and it's clearly that Michael Gambon's boisterous take on Dumbledore is a lot closer to how I read him in this book that Richard Harris' subdued version.

I'm still bemused by the decision to rename the book in the US though. The Philosopher's Stone is an actual alchemic concept, the US title's just generic.

Anyway, a harmless enough read, but I'm hoping for more from later books in the series. At the moment I'm hard pressed to see what the fuss is about.

I've now seen all the Harry Potter movies.

So, now, I suppose, I shall have to get around to reading the books.

On the movies - I found them entertaining enough, nicely performed on the whole (although Emma Watson was singled out as being strong in the first couple of movies, I found her wooden and painful, but then child actors generally are), with brilliant supporting casts.


I do have a few questions about Harry Potter as a whole as well as some observations about the movies under the cut. Bear in mind that I've only seen the movies, I haven't read the final book (books?) so I don't know what happens in the end.

( Questions and reviews of all the movies under the cut. )

Yeah, I'm aware that this journal's mostly been comic stuff recently. But people asked for comic reviews so you're getting them. Booyah.

Reviewed this time:

Incredible Hercules #131/#132
Ultimate Comics Spider-man #1
X-men Forever #5
Marvel Zombies 4 #4
Uncanny X-men: First Class #2

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I bought the boxed set of Primeval Series 1&2 a while back and it's kind of become a guilty pleasure of mine. I've caught up now, up to the end of series 3, which is where the trail ends as the series has been cancelled in the UK, annoying on a cliffhanger.

Apparently Warner Brothers have optioned the series for the US and it's looking like it may be rebooted and remade with an American cast, so presumably that kills any chance of the production company producing any one shots to wind the stories up. In addition, apparently a feature film is being planned that the series will spin out of, from Akiva Goldman, who scripted Angels & Demons, and Kerry Foster who will produce the film.



For those not in the know, Primeval was billed as ITV's answer to the rival BBC's Doctor Who, where a team of scientists investigate the appearance of temporal anomalies across Great Britain which bring prehistoric and futuristic creatures which enter the present.

Unfortunately, by attempting to hang onto Doctor Who's shirttails, the show never attained anything above that level - coming across as a cheap answer to the BBC, with less originality, a less charming cast, weaker special effects and weaker writing.

In actual fact, while all that's undoubtedly true, there's a fair bit to enjoy. Some of the characters grow on you like a rash, the fanservice is so blatant it's charming (there's a whole plotline just to ensure that cute zoologist Hannah Spearritt ends up in her panties as often as possible, when the villainess returns in the second series, you can tell she's evil because she bought herself a push up bra) and some of the performances are actually quite fun when you look a little closer (Hannah Spearritt, Ben Miller and Andrew-Lee Potts mostly and Jason Flemyng come the third series).

( Read more... )

Not much reaction to my comics reviews, I see. I suspect that producing them at least a week after the issues have come out is likely to suck the appeal out of that feature, yes? I don't usually get to the comic store until the weekend after comics have come out... another few days to read them...

I think I might stick to reviewing the collected volumes I pick up or complete story arcs, over individual issues. What do people think? Is there more appeal in that?

Time for a poll!

Poll #1440932
Open to: All, detailed results viewable to: All, participants: 5

How should I do my comic reviews?

Under the cut: Reviews for UNCANNY X-MEN: FIRST CLASS GIANT SIZED SPECIAL and #1, TRANSFORMERS SPOTLIGHTS: CLIFFJUMPER AND METROPLEX and RUNAWAYS #12.

( Read more... )

I promised a few weeks ago to start doing comic reviews again, but, of course, since then I've failed to get to my local comic store to pick up my pull list. HOWEVER, this weekend I finally did and I'm working my way through the pile. So, since things have finally quietened down, it's review time! Slight change, I got fed up with the marks out of 5 system, since I ended up giving so many half points, so this time marks out of 10 for simplicity's sake.

Comics covered this time around:

ULTIMATE INVINCIBLE HARDCOVER VOL. 4
EMPOWERED VOL. 5
CAPTAIN BRITAIN AND MI 13 #15
TRANSFORMERS: ALL HAIL MEGATRON #13
X-MEN FOREVER #3/#4
NEW MUTANTS #3

Reviews are kept (relatively) spoiler free.

( Read more... )

I've been rewatching the original Doctor Who episodes, from An Unearthly Child up to The Firemaker. I never recalled Hartnell's Doctor being such a bastard - cranky, yes, but not as menacing, threatening, petulant, border-line murderous and coldblooded as he actually is in the first story arc. He almost out-assholes Colin Baker, which takes some doing.



Also watched the entire first series of Life on Mars. I get why people raved about this series now. Clever, intiguing, funny, different, satirical and gripping, it's cracking entertainment and although the premise emerged from a group of writers who initially intended it as a remake of The Sweeney, it morphed into a far more interesting beast when they decided to add the time travel element into the mix. The double mystery of whether Sam's actually just in a fantasy world prompted by his coma or actually transported into the past, somehow, and the crime stories in the episodes themselves, as well as some memorable characterizations, ensure that it's a cut above the average TV cop show.




I'm interested to see how the US version played out now. Has anyone seen it? I've heard it's very different, more Starsky and Hutch than The Sweeney.

Sad to hear that one of comedy's most overlooked actors - Colin Bean, who played Private Sponge in all but four of the 80 episodes of Dad's Army - has died aged 83.

I need more sleep.