First of all, wouldn't this pairing be like the ultimate experience for any theatre-stroke-X-men-fan? Swoon.

Fallout 3 arrived by post yesterday, one day ahead of its UK release, and so I installed it while hurrying through the vast mountain of dishes which had mysteriously gathered during the past two days only (note to self: buy dishwasher ASAP). The game itself was like the Fallout series being mixed with the wonderful Oblivion - not surprisingly, as Fallout 3 and Oblivion are both made by Bethesda Softworks. I've been in love with the Fallout universe since the first game, especially since it has been turn-based up till now, so I was both eager to play the new game and apprehensive because of the new combat system. Turns out I had nothing to worry about. It's both real-time and turn-based, whatever you prefer, really, and to be honest, I am pretty sure I will use both modes, all depending on the situation. I am also happy that LittleBigPlanet was postponed another two weeks after all, since it would have clashed miserably with the release of Fallout 3. This way I have a week to explore the Wasteland before going on my first adventure with Sackboy.

Fanboys and fangirls will know what I'm yapping about.

While waiting to get back home from work, though, I'm spending my time reading Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire again, which I believe I haven't done for about seven years or so. J.K. Rowling's imagination is quite extraordinary.

Labels: film, gaming, literature, theatre

One of my Swedish colleagues just shared this link with me, showing a typical "you know you're Swedish when..." list. I discovered that with the exception of points 16, 20 and 26 (and in point 9, switch "Norway" for "Sweden"), everything is typical Norwegian, too. Even the fact that we actually feel a little bit at home when we're in IKEA abroad.

Speaking of IKEA, the long-awaited Easy to Assemble episode starring Greg Proops is up at TV.com.

And related to that, is the fact that in my last post I mentioned my Comedy Store Players dream team--in an ideal world this would of course also include The Proopster, but that would mean very infrequent visits to the Store for me.

Labels: comedy, greg proops, lists, time wasting

I had been checking the list on the Comedy Store Players website for a while to see if my personal "dream team"* would be appearing anytime soon, so when they popped up I immediately...after a few weeks had passed...bought a ticket to see the show. It was definitely worth it. You see, we learned how to make vodka. It is quite brilliant. Like Andy Smart said in the middle of the explanation: "I really wish this was how they make vodka" (he was bursting with laughter at the time).

Apparently, Josie Lawrence knows how to make vodka. The first thing you need, is a vodka machine. The second is the firm knowledge that you must never, under any circumstance, distil vodka. This was news to me and really makes the Smirnoff ad look bad, as they claim Smirnoff is triple distilled. So, to make the vodka, you need a little cup in which you place two drops of fragmented water. No explanation as to how to fragment the water, but I suppose that's a secret. Then introduce the sugarcube machine. Its sole purpose is to put two sugarcubes into the fragmented water for about a second or so, and then take them out again. This, apparently, is where the vodka taste comes from. Then the fragmented, slightly sugared water is put into a subterfuge (which all of a sudden became a mechanical object) and soon the vodka comes out at the other end. You may add flavours as you like. Suggested flavours were caribou, crap and cheese & lime. They eventually discovered, however, that if you pee on a cat and it washes itself in a vat of vodka, this results in the best flavour ever. I feel enlightened.

By the way, it took about 90 seconds before someone suggested "BBC radio host" as an occupation--probably due to yesterday's news about silly Russell Brand and Jonathan Ross messing things up a little bit for themselves. And Josie was the first to say something rude. Woo-hoo, girl power!

I finished reading the Black Magician trilogy yesterday, as I waited for the show to start. It did not end the way I wanted, but then again I didn't really have much choice. If I want the perfect story for my liking, I'd better write it myself. :-) All in all a good fantasy series, though.

Now I am looking forward to reading books 4-7 of the Harry Potter series again. See you in May!

*) My Comedy Store Players dream team would be Josie Lawrence, Andy Smart, Richard Vranch and Steve Steen. I am beginning to enjoy watching both Lee Simpson and Neil Mullarkey, as well, but they're not dream team candidates yet.

Labels: comedy, literature

Yeah, rock on, etc. I went to the Wembley Arena yesterday after work in order to join in on the fun and watch Fall Out Boy (emo superstars...apparently) jump around and sing. I arrived at about 18.45, and the first act, You Me At Six, went on after about half an hour. They seemed like a jolly bunch of Brits. After seven powerful songs, they left the stage and sent the roadies on. It took them more than half an hour to rig everything for the next band, Boys Like Girls, who were only on for four songs, so all that fuss for barely anything. Although...they were quite amusing to watch.

Two and a half hours after I arrived, the main act finally came on, and gave it all for about 75 minutes, leaving me with a headache and a temporary case of tinnitus, but also with a couple of cool videos shot with my mobile, and a nice memory. The venue was very large and those who were standing by the stage seemed to be having a great time. Where I was we were more moderate (some had even brought their parents), with the exception of a few screaming fangirls, barely in their mid-teens. As I haven't really bothered to become a proper fan of Fall Out Boy, meaning I don't know their names, looks or lyrics (note to self: Learn lyrics to join in at gigs), I was very surprised to see so many teenage girls there, but apparently one of the members is a real heart throb, so there was a lot of screaming and fainting going on. People kept being pulled out from the mosh pit (which, technically, wasn't even close to being a mosh pit), never to return (well, that's my theory).

It then took me less time to travel back home from the venue than from work, even though Wembley is supposed to be farther away. Hmm...

With my throbbing headache, I had no choice but to sit down with a cup of tea and a chocolate bar and watch the recording of Medium with my flatmate, so I got to bed at one and is now seriously tired. Unfortunately, I got a pre-ordered game two days early yesterday, and so I am sitting at work only itching to get home and try it out, but by the time I get there tonight, I may be too tired to do much at all. Oh, well.

Btw, I got Windows 98 to work. I honestly don't know how it happened. It was stuck on the same installation screen all night, so I turned it off before going to work, and when I tried again in the evening, it worked! So now I can play my beloved Magic: The Gathering games again. Le sigh. Now, if I could only get Sid Meier's Alpha Centauri to work properly... Little pleasures.

Labels: concert, gaming, music, TV

Can I just start by saying I love and adore the two travel programmes Stephen Fry in America and Paul Merton in India at the moment? Yes! I said it! I actually enjoy watching Paul Merton! Oh my.

Anyway. On Friday we went on a lazy, unintentional pub crawl. I had the Saturday off and so did my flatmate, so we'd decided to have a bit of a night out, without going overboard. So we went to the pub. The local. Unfortunately the local turned out to be rather noisy and then they started rigging the karaoke machine, which was when we hurriedly finished our drinks and left. We then did something horrible, out of sheer desperation. The only other pub we'd been to around here turned out to have been closed down, but we didn't want to go home at 8.30, so we strode down to The Pub With All The Obnoxious Clientele Who All Seem To Magically Gather Outside For A Fight At Midnight Every Night, and it wasn't as bad as we had pictured it. They even showed some old music videos (well, courtesy of VH1 Classics). Unfortunately it didn't last long until they switched to the rugby, and once again we finished our drinks and left. The last pub on the list was the local branch of Wetherspoons. Now, apparently, for reasons I still haven't quite been able to figure out, Wetherspoons is a daft place to go. It's the butt of all the pub jokes. So we went there with very few hopes of having any fun, and possibly also be hit on by some drunk, old geezer. Yes, we were that desperate. However, it turned out to be a nice place! It was crowded, but had all sorts of people in there, of both classes (upper class twits people don't go to pubs), all cultural backgrounds, all sorts of jobs (well, perhaps not all sorts, but many different ones) etc. And the prices were nice. My flatmate was taken aback by the fact they had wine on tap (so I guess I get the idea where the Wetherspoons harrassment comes from), but apparently it wasn't too bad and we might actually go back in the near future. After all, it felt much more like going out on the town than when we go to the local, which is usually a much more quiet affair (apart from when resident drunk Kate starts messing around with the jukebox). Nice to get to know the neighbourhood. We've only lived here for three and a half years; don't expect too much!

I would also like to send a lot of curses to Cliff Harris, the maker of Kudos 2, for managing to waste two out of my three very precious days off. Pooh on you.

Ooh, and the Blu-Ray version of The Incredible Hulk came with some big and wonderful news; the U-Control, which really should be the way forward for Blu-Ray. We're getting close to the ultimate way of viewing the bonus material, for sure! Does anyone remember these programs on early DVDs, PCFriendly (my arse) and later Interactual, where you had to install some annoying application on your computer in order to view "the extras", which was more often than not just a couple of pictures, a link to the official website and maybe, if you were lucky, the trailer? Total crap from start to finish.

Yesterday I tried installing Windows 98 on my computer, via Microsoft's probably excellent (and free) software Virtual PC 2007, but as I have an upgrade version of Win98 for my original Win95 one, I had to install Win95 first, which caused problems. For some bizarre reason the last bit of the installation doesn't work, and since it contains rather essential files, I can't upgrade it to the Win98 version, which I need for many of my old games. Grrr. Still, it was lovely, in a geeky kind of way, to hear the intro music to Windows 95 again. Aaaah.

Labels: film, gaming, personal, technology, TV

I was very surprised yesterday as I happened upon an article in this week's RadioTimes stating that Geoffrey Perkins had died in a car accident in late August. I hadn't heard about this at all. For some peculiar reason I have always shouted "Geoffrey!" every time I see his name in the credits; this has lasted for about...ooh...15 years now? He was one exceptional producer, although I of course knew him first and foremost from the brilliant KYTV (coming to think of it, I also shout "Angus!" when I see the name of Angus Deayton, and "Philip Pope!" when I see his name at the end of some show (yes, he has to be Philip Pope for obvious reasons), and naturally "Michael!" when I see the name of Michael Fenton-Stevens somewhere - it must be a Radio Active/KYTV thing). Have a look at this obituary and wonder where British comedy would be without him.

In other news, apparently previously mentioned Malcolm Sinclair is the vice-president of Equity. Good for him.

Labels: comedy, theatre, TV

Since we went to the theatre way too early on Tuesday (after a short meal at Burger King and then getting the hell out of there due to Leicester Square being filled with silly teens screaming at their High School Musical 3 (yes! THREE! I don't see why they bothered making the first one!) idols (the premiere was on)), we hung about the Wyndham's for a while. At one point I said "could we just nip around the corner, to see The Blue Door (as in "the infamous blue door from Alan Rickman's run in Private Lives at the Albery (now Noël Coward) in 2001")?", and so we did. Within just a few minutes we spotted two theatre celebs; Daniel Boys (I had completely forgot Avenue Q is showing at the Noël Coward) and Douglas Hodge. I was very, very close to running up to the latter to say how much I loved him in La Cage at the Menier, but then I remembered I didn't, really, and commented to C instead that "that guy's been making out with Philip every night for months", as he turned the corner. It would have been funner if I had said it really loudly, of course.

Labels: Alan Rickman, philip quast, theatre

We have been infested with flies. It's like Hitchcock's The Birds, only with huge insects instead. We've so far managed to keep them in the sitting-room, but who knows how long that will last. I wonder where they're coming from...but then I haven't heard that mouse rummaging around in our ceiling this past week or so...

Despite the flies, it's been a very nice week indeed. On Tuesday we went to see Ivanov, starring Kenneth Branagh (yay!) and also personal favourites Kevin McNally and Malcolm Sinclair. It hit me during the interval that it was lovely to see a traditional ensemble play for once. They even had elaborate sets in parts! I guess I've seen too much modern, arty theatre lately. Seeing 18 people on stage isn't very usual anymore. Too expensive, you see. Oh, well. After the play, we stayed for the Q&A with the cast, including a surprise participant in (artistic) director Michael Grandage, who "could only stay a few minutes", but stayed for the full 25. Very interesting input from the cast about the play and Chekov in general (and no, Ken and Kev weren't there). It was especially interesting to hear that a couple of the actors (Ken and Kev, in fact) were a bit apprehensive when it comes to the audience having a tendency to laugh in some places were the general mood is supposed to be sombre. For the record, I noticed this myself and certainly did not feel like laughing.

On Wednesday I went to see Oedipus at the Olivier, starring Ralph Fiennes and almost-personal-favourite Jasper Britton. Also an ensemble play, with its 28-strong cast, but much more modern in its set design (basically just a huge door and a bench) than Ivanov. Apparently it was the first preview. Well, it was nice. Of course, knowing the story (roughly), it was really just a matter of "when will this guy know the whole truth", but it was captivating in a way. I have to admit I'm glad they didn't stretch it to last longer than it did, though. With an interval it would have been too long in my opinion. The story isn't that profound, even though I'm sure Fiennes had several bucketloads of tears to spare and could have gone on all night. The upside of the Olivier is the layout; no matter where you sit, the guy in front of you would have to be seven feet tall for you not to see anything. The downside is the acoustics and lack of microphones; a couple of the actors were very difficult to hear, especially Alan Howard, who played Teiresias and who has a rather important role in the play as he is one of the main catalysts to the story. He was almost mumbling in many places, and I could see others leaning forward trying to understand what the hell he was talking about. Oh, and next to me was what seemed to be a whole class of teenagers. The girl next to me took one look at the programme and said rather loudly "He looks like Voldemort." I hid my face. It didn't stop there, though. She kept looking at the pictures inside the programme and exclaimed repeatedly "It has to be Voldemort. But I don't get it." The girl next to her said "It's make-up." Just before the play started, the one next to me said "I just can't get my head around it." I guess she meant the CGI in the Harry Potter films where Fiennes basically has no nose. At this point I almost started laughing, all the while being worried poor Ralph could hear her as he was standing just behind the door in the middle of the stage, because if he did, he would probably be thinking "I studied at RADA. I have been with the RSC for years. I gave it my everything in Schindler's List, Spider and The Constant Gardener, and all she knows about me is that my nose didn't look like this in some fantasy movie..."

Anyway, having been a big fan of Branagh's and Fiennes's for about 15 years, it was great to finally see them on stage, if only to see with my own eyes that the critics haven't been wrong when they've lauded them. Not that I thought they were.

And then, to top it all, Philip Quast sneaked into Silent Witness for a couple of episodes this week! Yumsy.

Labels: kenneth branagh, personal, philip quast, ralph fiennes, theatre, TV

Americans, please aid us here. Where the hell did McCain find his VP candidate? In Dumbville? He should probably have got someone who can make a proper speech without stumbling. OK, I'm probably being unfair.

No, wait, I'm not. This isn't a tiny position we're talking about. It's someone who will be second in charge of "The Greatest Nation in the World".

So, on that note, if you're in LA (and you're not, because why would you be reading my blog, which is usually non-related to LA, unless I mention Greg Proops?), please go to this fundraising comedy event for Senator Obama, to help us all out. I agree with Biden; I haven't actually heard how McCain will do things differently from Bush.

On a completely unrelated note: Why, oh why was Simon Shepherd just sporting a bushy 'tache on The Wright Stuff? I seriously hope it's for a part somewhere (the sound was turned down). Ooh, and good news: William Hurt joins the cast of Damages for the new series. Wahey the lads! I re-watched I Love You to Death the other day, and he is so funny in that film. But hey, even Keanu Reeves is funny in that film. Intentionally, for once.

And Heroes series three started over here a couple of days ago, on the same day as Medium, which is just not fair. Two great shows on the same day? Speaking of which, BBC Two's comedy lineup on Thursday is really shaping up; Never Mind the Buzzcocks (Simon Amstell is really funny), then Beautiful People (which wasn't laugh-out funny, but had interesting characters and a great cast) and of course Graham Norton, which yesterday had (all hail now) Eddie Izzard and Harry Shearer (which reminded me I really have to start watching The Simpsons; I think I've seen a couple of episodes in all).

Labels: comedy, current affairs, eddie izzard, greg proops, simon shepherd, TV, william hurt