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I note for the record that my cousin A was in some way involved with tonight's episode of Zen, which was, I'm sure, quite superb, even if I didn't, y'know, actually watch it...
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I've developed a rather uncharateristic enthusiasm for Criminal Minds. I think it might be bleed through from my passion for Shadow Unit...
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Finally caught up with the first episode of the BBC's Sherlock Holmes update, which I decided to watch after one of my friends told me that Benedict Cumberbatch's Sherlock reminded him of me. A lot. I'm not sure whether to be insulted or not: Holmes is smart and insightful, but he's also an annoying, freakish sociopath...

On the whole, I rather enjoyed the whole thing, especially the sly take on A Study in Scarlet which served as a source of red herrings — the rache vs rachel thing being particularly nice touch. I also liked the assumption that Holmes and Watson were dating, given the slashishness of some of the original stories which seem to be packed full of Holmes' hopeless misogyny.

I wasn't entirely convinced by the ending and the explanation of the killer's motives, which seemed somewhat arbitrary when compared to Ferrier's reasons in A Study. But I thought the whole Mycroft misdirect was nice, although not quite in the Alan Moore league.
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Tonight's edition of Sacred Music focused on two great French composers: Gabriel Fauré and Francis Poulenc. The Fauré section, which concentrated on the Requiem, focused more on the historical; while the Poulenc section concerned itself more with the construction of the music.

This week's highlights were, as always, Simon Russell Beale's moments of Great Musical Enthusiasm: being allowed to join the Sixteen's basses in the Libera Me of the Fauré and playing a Bach fugue — BWV846, I think — from memory on the grand orgue of Saint Sulpice.

As with previous episodes it's enjoyable and enlightening stuff.
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After enjoying Friday's episode of Sacred Music with its focus on the choral music Brahms and Bruckner, I found myself binging on the first series on the iPlayer. And the more I watched, the more I found to like.

The format of each programme was pretty simple: a series of historical segments, inter-cut with musical performances. The two strands are held together by Simon Russell Beale, who fronts the historical exposition sections — visiting important locations in each composer's life, taking to experts and, most excitingly of all, studying holograph scores in libraries — before returning to an English Church, where he discusses the music with Harry Christophers and the Sixteen.

While all the programmes are quite excellent, I particularly enjoyed the very first episode, which focused on the gothic music of the Notre Dame school. I really enjoyed the intimate four voice performances of Léonin and Pérotin and found the demonstrations of the structure of the polyphony really fascinating. But there were little moments like that throught-out the series, such as the performance of Byrd's four voice mass at Ingatestone Hall or the explanation of the arching phrases in Palestrina's Exsultate Deo, which neatly combined both beauty and enlightenment.

It reminds me of all the reasons why I love the BBC quite as much as I do.
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I'm not running at full efficiency, thanks to a throat bug, so I've taken the opportunity to watch the BBC's adaptation of Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy from the late 70s. And impressed. Seriously impressed. The acting is great — Alec Guinness is quite superb as George Smiley — and I really like the way the narrative is given time to unfold, not something that happens often these days.

I also love Geoffrey Burgon's really classy soundtrack, and especially his setting of the Nunc Dimittis that ends each episode:

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In what was probably the best science programme of recent years, The Secret Life of Chaos found Jim Al-Khalili exploring the impact of chaos theory on modern science and mathematics.

Starting with Turing's computational morphology studies, which showed how complexity could emerge from simple systems described by a handful of equations, it moved on to Boris Belousov's fascinating discovery of a chemical oscillator which, when run in a petri dish, showed the sorts of patterns predicted by Turing's theoretical work. This, along with work by Edward Lorenz and Benoît Mandelbrot, was seen as ushering a shift from the classical, clockwork universe of Newton to a chaotic system where patterns an complexity emerge from small perturbations in simple mathematical sets of equations that involve iterative feedback.

In a final tour de force, the programme then fed back into itself, returning to the question of biological complexity with a discussion of evolution as a chaotic system. By expressing evolution as a concentrator for minor differences with natural selection acting as the feedback mechanism, it became possible to understand how the vast complexities of life could emerge from a relatively simple system. This point was backed up with NaturalMotion's work using genetic algorithms to teach bio-mechanical computer simulations to walk and interact with the features of a virtual environment.

This view of nature chimes rather nicely a piece of recent reading: Ernst Mayr's rejection of Platonism, described in The Growth of Biological Thought (anthologised in The Oxford Book of Modern Scientific Writing). Mayr rather neatly describes how Plato's ideas of the world naturally grows out of his background as a geometrist, predisposing him to see the world as a series of distorted versions of perfect geometric shapes (essences), whereas the world is actually more complex, more fractal, with apparently similar patterns repeated with minor changes between individual instances. Thus, I suspect, the rejection of the clockwork view of the universe isn't so much a rejection of Newton as the rejection of the pervasive influence Platonism in post-enlightenment scientific thought.

The programme was pure class from start to finish and I thought the way it pulled together a number of apparently separate elements into a coherent whole was a particular strength. It was a brilliant reminder of the sort of the BBC can do if it really tries...
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I'm impressed. This week's Torchwood series was really rather good. Far better than the previous series; it really seemed to benefit from being scheduled on consecutive evenings.

The 456 were a particularly inspired choice of villainous alien. All that creepy Wyndhamesque stuff with the world's children all speaking in unison was particularly effective; especially the way that, once the children had finished making their sinister group announcements, they instantly and immediately snapped back to their normal activities as if nothing had happened.

I also thought that the physical portrayal of the aliens was particularly good. The decision to keep them largely unseen really added to their creepiness and gave the impression that they might be capable of anything. The long pauses in their dialogue and their uncertain responses also worked particularly well and really cranked up the tension — you could never be entirely confident that they weren't about to flip out until their reply came through the translator.

The guest cast, too, particularly good. Peter Capaldi was great as John Frobisher, the reluctant and, when the occasion demanded it, ruthless civil servant given the task of managing first contact with aliens — I loved the way the character transformed, from being self-doubting and slightly vulnerable with his human colleagues, into a strong, certain negotiator when dealing with the alien emissary. Susan Brown, who played Frobisher's deputy, Bridget Spiers, was wonderful, especially in her scenes with Frobisher's new PA.

I also thought that the politicians were rather good. Brian Green, the PM, with his Pilate-like refusal to dirty his hands in the sordid business of the aliens and his determination to focus on the political bottom line was very nicely played by Nicholas Farrell. There were a couple of excellent moments towards the end where he sits, apparently ignored by all around him, only to pick himself up a few minutes later and come out with some breathtaking piece of political cynicism that really seemed to hit the mark. And the way that his authority was undercut by his Home Secretary, played by Deborah Findlay, who chose to step into the space left by her vacillating Prime Minister, was very nicely handled — the moment when Findlay's character finally says the unsayable, that the UK could well do without 300,000 underachieving children, was brilliantly callous.
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I've always been rather sceptical about Torchwood. Too much running around and shouting, and not enough tension for me. But Children of Earth has converted me. It's really rather good. Peter Capaldi, in particular, was on excellent form — his scenes with the 456 ambassador were genuinely creepy.
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I've really enjoyed BBC4's series Crude Britannia: The Story of North Sea Oil. It had it all: the dodgy political calculations behind the business, the staggering hubris of the gineering involved, excellent interviews with people who'd worked in the industry, and, not least, one of the best soundtracks around — I think it must have included clips from every single record released in the last thirty years...
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Following the first tranche of digital switchover — our analogue BBC2 was switched off on the 6th and replaced with some of the Beeb's digital channels — I decided to see if I couldn't complete the process of making my old TV and VCR obsolete by connecting my PS2 to my mac via my Elgato box.

Initially, I wasn't sure whether it was going to work — there was enough lag between the console and the display to make even RPGs unplayable — but once I realised that EyeTV had a game mode that bypassed the on-disc buffering, everything worked like a charm. And the quality of image? Far better than on my 25 year-old television.

So maybe I will get rid of my TV. And my VCR. And the little table they sit on. And replace them with some desperately needed bookshelves.
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Spent part of this evening watching my sister's walk-on part in a medical documentary. Not that she did much, apart from stand around and watch while the rest of the medics tried to revive a poor unfortunate who, having collapsed in the street, was run over by a taxi and then overdosed with painkillers by the people trying to put her back together.

I'm so glad I wasn't tempted to go into medicine...
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I've been watching a lot of Alias recently. Last week I watched the entirety of Season Three. Now I'm making serious in-roads into Season Four. And I've found yet another reason for watching: glasses porn.

Seriously.

I've caught myself making cutesy little noises every time Sydney Bristow turns up in a new pair of glasses — does the woman never wear a pair of specs more than once? — and I'm starting to wonder just what the health benefits of working for a covert branch of the CIA might be and whether it might not be worth considering a change of career...
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I really rather enjoyed The Passion of Vaughan Williams on BBC4 yesterday. It featured various anecdotes from friends about RVW's various muses, his somewhat eccentric first marriage — during the Blitz Ralph and his first wife spent the night in their respective beds, with Ursula Wood, Ralph's mistress and eventual second wife, in the middle holding both their hands — and how his music fitted in with it all.

Well worth watching, if only for the evidence of what a charismatic guy Vaughan Williams obviously was. Even fifty years after his death, his friends were still clearly charmed by him, although there was an interesting male/female split, with all the women describing him as tall and gorgeous while the men compared him to a sack of potatoes! Robert Tear's description was particularly delightful: he looked like a sofa that was leaking its stuffing and when, after a performance, Tear had had to go up and introduce himself to the great man, he'd felt like he was meeting Beethoven...
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Being a day out of sync, I've only just got round to watching The Unicorn and the Wasp, which I reckon to be the best episode of the current series of Dr Who. But that might just be because it appealed to the Agatha Christie junkie in me — the nerdish part of my mind that rather enjoyed ticking off all the slightly lame references to her book titles. But it may simply be because the episode was funny, well written, well acted — some of Catherine Tate's moments were particularly wonderful — and suitably English.

Ultraviolet

May. 6th, 2008 09:16 pm
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Rewatching Ultraviolet for the first time since it was shown on C4 back in the late 90s, I've been pleasantly surprised by how well it has stood the test of time. I think there are a few reasons for this.

I think the sparse dialogue and heavy use of close-up reaction shots of the actors really pays off, allowing them to dodge the worst cliches of the vampire genre. The fact that it treats the viewer as an adult, allowing them to work out the plot as it unspools rather than going for lots of shouty exposition, a la Torchwood, is also a definite plus. Add in the cool camera work and combine a mood synth score with a minimal episode count and it's a sure-fire winner.
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Assuming that the ball of plutonium that appears in ep two of season one of Alias has a diameter of ten centimeters, then if it is non-hollow, it has a volume of 523 cc. Given a density of 19.8 g/cc, that means that the sphere should weigh in at around 10kg which, fortunately, is roughly inline with the amount of Pu required for criticality, which suggests that the ball is indeed solid.

So, my question is, how exactly is it that Sydney manages to hold something quite so heavy between finger and thumb? This, it seems to me, is most implausible. The fact that she's holding a piece of radioactive material protected by nothing more than a pair of gloves and a veil, however, I find perfectly reasonable...
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I've got a new favourite TV program. Or rather, my nephew thinks I've got a new favourite TV program and I've yet to disabuse him of the notion. Thus, I now find myself compelled to watch Space Pirates whenever it's on.
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Seeking an alternative viewpoint on Heroes, the Guardian has sat at the feet of Mike Carey and recorded his mighty thoughts. Here are the Master's two closing paragraphs, in which he neatly identifies the strengths and weaknesses of the show:

A project like this could have blown up in its creators' faces - take the sheer scale of the cast, for one. I was amazed at how neatly they merged the plotlines in the final episodes, while keeping every major character in the spotlight.

The downside is that the characters fall quickly into archetypes. With the exception of the Japanese time-traveller, Hiro Nakamura, none are particularly interesting in themselves, and the dialogue doesn't sparkle. What keeps you watching is the excitement - every episode is packed with incident, and hits you with unexpected spectacles and revelations. It takes forever before you really understand what's going on, but there is always something to look at. And every time a question is answered, a new one is asked.

I liked Heroes. But I'd have liked it a whole lot more if I hadn't read Graham Lineham's throw-away that he'd "... been trudging through series one of Heroes, while feeling nostalgic for the similar but far superior Buffy the Vampire Slayer", for this caused me to return to my spiritual home where things were, indeed, better and funny and snappier. Sorry. But it's true.

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Driven by cheap CGI and a general desire to escape the horrors of the modern world, SF TV shows are in the ascendant — Gareth McLean notes that something like a quarter of next season's pilots contain elements of SF. As Mal Reynolds would no doubt say, had Firefly not been cruelly canned before its time: shiny.

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