Pete's pad: April

Alright, this month I’m going to try structuring the screed by splitting it into stuff I’ve finished - both new and previously mentioned - alongside things I’m still making my way through - either because I’m slow or they’re still ongoing.

So I suppose it makes sense to start with the show that everyone’s still talking about; Adolescence.

Despite coming to it late and laden with the weight of expectation, this was in many ways better than I was expecting. Firstly, the technical aspects: doing a roughly hour-long single take is an impressive feat, and it was done pretty seamlessly, but also not in a flashy way that took you out of the story; maybe apart from wondering how they did that drone finish in the second episode. I’ve watched a few behind-the-scenes things and am now even more impressed by the filmmakers and actors.

Crucially, the effect really ratchets up the intensity of what is already a pretty stressful show, and the forced immersion makes the pressure points all the more impactful. The downside is that each of the four episodes are somewhat tied to locations and groups of characters, which while they each make sense to progress the plot, do mean that many promising storylines and interesting people are forced into being forgotten. I’d usually side with the British production instinct to go out on a high, but in this case I think I’m siding with Brad Pitt’s production company to push Netflix and the team for a second season.

As for the issues tackled by the programme, I’m not going to weigh in too deep, as I don’t have a teenage son (yet) or any expertise in handling juvenile delinquency - not that it’s stopped some of my fellow journalists from firing off hot takes. Talking to my eldest sister and brother-in-law (who do have a teenage son and are both high school teachers), they did confirm that Jamie’s type of behaviour is not uncommon and has gotten more prevalent since the kids returned from the lockdown disruptions. The topic could have been handled any number of different ways, but I think they got a lot of things right. The second episode in the school reminded me of just how tough an environment it can be and how it doesn’t take much for some hormone-driven impulsiveness to spiral out of control. To follow its revelations with the teté-a-teté between him and the therapist was brilliant, as it laid bare his insecurities and apparent need to take control of situations. Then the final hour, focusing on the parents struggle to come to terms with what they could have done differently, sparked a long conversation about tactics to be employed in our own household over the next few years.

From all that seriousness to something a bit lighter, in the form of the increasingly ubiquitous Hannah Fry. The Cambridge mathematician was thrust into the limelight a few years ago via a well-watched TED talk and snapped up by the BBC soon after to present various types of documentaries and podcasts on all things scientific. The second series of her Secret Genius of Modern Life vehicle has continued in much the same vein as the first: take an everyday bit of technology and break it down to see how it works, while digging through the archives to explain who invented and commercialised it. To get the access to current experts (and machinery to disassemble), it does feel a tad promotional when she - for instance - tours the Philips factory to get preached to about how great they are at innovating air fryers, but the whole package does make for a genuinely insightful hour of telly; and she’s a very likeable host.

Talking of likeable hosts, it’s been lovely to have Bruce Parry back on the Beeb, for another run of his excellent Tribe outlet. The former Royal Marines commando, turned indigenous rights activist and explorer, certainly isn’t reinventing the formula here: his team has managed to get access to three more remote tribes, to which he gradually endears himself to by helping out, learning the ways of life and getting involved in rituals. I think the first episode was my favourite, as it ticked all the boxes: smiling through the consumption of questionable local delicacies, earnestly listening to their beliefs and plight, theorising about how one with nature they are (and we aren’t), then taking some natural hallucinogens, chucking a massive whitey and eventually getting off his tits in a longhouse. Truly a man I’d love to chat shit to for hours on an afterparty couch.

Another chap who’s been off our screens for quite some time is David Blaine, who has returned via National Geographic with a new programme called Do Not Attempt. As the title suggests, he’s delving into more risky business, on a sort of loose international travelogue to find other humans with unique skills and a penchant for pain. As with almost all self-professed magicians, I’ve never really trusted him and he remains a very odd chap, both in the deadpan delivery and earnest belief in the power of his craft. Much like Nat Geo’s other recent flagship documentary, following Chris Hemsworth around as he tried to increase his longevity, this is expensively shot and time has gone into Dave working with the right people to help him finish each episode by doing some stunt based on their feat of endurance/trickery/bravery. How far you get into the series very much depends on how you can cope with his lack of any discernible personality, but he does meet some genuinely inspiring people along the way and the whole thing looks gorgeous.

Sticking with documentaries, but moving from the slightly silly to the properly profound, I implore you to bear witness to What They Found; Sam Mendes’ rightfully sombre piecing together of footage filmed by two British soldiers that were among the first to liberate Belsen concentration camp. As you’d expect, a lot of what they found is really hard to look at, but as I’ve said before with such subject matter, I think its truly important to disseminate these factual accounts as widely as possible, to hopefully combat misinformation about the horrors of when ordinary people succumb to fascist regimes.

[slightly ruining this segue, but at least crowbarred into the right section, I watched the new Louis Theroux doc last night, revisiting the occupied West Bank and a show he did there previously on the Israeli settlers. After his recent run of ‘slebrity interviews, it was good to see one of our finest documentarians tackle something a bit more weighty. He generally maintains that trademark impassivity in the face of consistent intimidation and maddening religious fundamentalism, but in a latter conversation with the so-called godmother of the movement, Louis finally broke and called her what she clearly is; a sociopath. Brave and important stuff; well worth an hour of your time]

Keeping up my seamless transitions, we move to another increasingly Nazi-filled hole, in the documentary charting the rise and fall of Twitter: Breaking the Bird. With access to most of the founders - albeit with Jack Dorsey a notable absence - this film does a good job in moving through the inevitable stages of a rapidly scaling tech start-up: grappling with the need to monetise and stop the site from crashing, while also apparently completely marginalising the even greater need to tackle online abuse, all in the insistence of free speech idealism. It’s a fascinating and frustrating look at how Twitter was at the heart of some of the last few decades’ biggest culture wars - Islamic fundamentalism, gamergate, the rise of Trump and Covid conspiracy theorising - with Elon’s eventual expensive takeover seeming like the obvious endpoint; given the circumstances.

And it really does feel like the Musk era for the ‘digital town square’ is the end. I had a lorra lorra lols on Twitter, while also always going there first for breaking news, and even getting some professional growth via an admittedly modest following. But it’s barely useable at this point and most of my favourite accounts have moved on, so I’ve recently deleted the app and moved across to Bluesky, which isn’t quite as amusing or lively, but considerably less spam and racist filled.

I’ve got rid of Facebook from my phone’s homescreen too, in an attempt to make room for some mental-health-ier pursuits. Like reading actual books again. I’d like to include more of those reviews and recommendations (do make me some suggestions in the comments, although I do have a frankly silly backlog of physical pages to read), so in that spirit, I’ll heartily endorse Bob Mortimer’s Hotel Avocado. I’ve been thoroughly enjoying his later-life renaissance - fishing with Paul Whitehouse, podcasting with Andy Dawson and making his peers laugh on various panel shows (I’ve only seen clips of that Last One Laughing thing, but he does appear to be stealing the show) - and this book is another dose of a wonderfully surreal mind. I’d actually rather him read it to me as an audiobook, but I’ll have had to do with the hardback, procured recently from our lovely local mini library box:

Moving formats again, a quick foray into podcasts, if I may.

I’ve been recently enjoying something called Broken Veil - a creepy little series made by comedy writers Joel Morris and Will Maclean. It’s quite a slow burn, maintaining the feasible facade of two blokes lazily investigating some odd goings on in the Essex countryside, before really leaning in to the paranormal happenings in the final few instalments. Given I’ve been fascinated by such things since perusing the Osbourne World of the Unknown books in the local library as a young’un, I’m quite partial to other-worldly goings on; although the more closer to reality the better. In a similar vein, I quite enjoyed the ‘analogue horror’ series of purportedly found footage/audio uploads by Video Visions, which turned into an atmospheric patchwork of Thatcher-era state subversion and conspiratorial cleansing of the underclasses. Continuing the theme, was my favourite of this trio I’ve bodged together, from web-based comedian Adrian Gray. It takes the form of a series of Instagram uploads which appeared to be a dubbed Russian gameshow, but gradually evolved into something much funnier and stranger, in the end becoming genuinely compelling, with plenty of fledgling fan speculation about hidden meanings and Easter eggs. At the tail end of last year I was actively searching for new broadcasts each day and got really stuck into the lore - and silly songs - that he had conjured up. Anyway, my explanation isn’t really doing any of this justice, so please give it a watch:

A quick podcast follow-up: the BBC Sounds series Czar of Hearts finished with a bang, as after telling the tale of Vladimir Romanov’s time in charge of my favourite football team, the producer and presenter actually got to speak to him. It’s not quite as incendiary as they make out, given his characteristic bluff, bullshittery and just not giving straight answers to any legitimate question, but after hearing so many involved with the club giving their recollections, it does give a bit more heft to the debate every fan has - was he a hero, or a villain and would you do it all again given the choice?

OI’ll round out the ‘watched’ section with a few more series I’ve put to bed this month, starting with the inexplicably ubiquitous White Lotus. As I mentioned previously, the prevailing feeling seemed to be that the third outing wasn’t quite as good as the first two, and the last episode didn’t feel entirely satisfactory. There were plot holes aplenty (why did Rick stick around at the hotel/wouldn’t you wash out the blender?) and it was annoying you didn’t get resolution to the Ratliff family storyline once they got their phones back, but look, I did stick it out to the bitter end; and chances are I’ll hate watch the inevitable fourth season too.

I’ve complained before about the UK vs US differences in TV series length, with creators on this side of the pond often able to finish things on a high, while commercial pressures over there seem to drag shows on perhaps longer than is artistically necessary. With that in mind I have, for the most part, liked Yellow Jackets enough to stick with it through three seasons, but the fact that it’s going to take a fourth to actually find out how they got rescued, does stretch one’s sanity somewhat.

And finally, the Daredevil series, which - unlike some apparently ‘limited’ runs of other superheroes - is most definitely expecting another go, with an annoying lack of closure in the ultimate episode. The violence was easily the most brutal I’ve seen from anything under the Marvel banner and I do like an unhappy ending, but at the same time I’m not so sold on the characters that I’m really anticipating its return.

I have, however, very much been anticipating the return of The Last of Us, which started fairly slowly, given the hectic end to the brilliant first season. That all changed with the second episode, which provided a pretty brutal and dramatic death that, as Graeme Virtue in the Guardian pointed out, wasn’t that much of a surprise to those who played the game; but timing-wise does make things interesting in terms of who fills the gap left by such a pivotal role.

No such Red Wedding-style shock slayings as Andor fires up the rocket engines for its second series, but more rebel versus empire scheming and multiple new planets to forget during the first few episodes. Also, the costumes, so much space Nazi style from the baddies’ top brass, along with some period drama future ball gown fun at the wedding party. I quite like the humour and character building in the initial trio of episodes, but at the same time, nothing much has really happened, so hopefully the pace and consequence can pick up soon?

I’ve also been dipping into the latest batch of Black Mirrors, which - as ever - are something of a mixed bag in terms of content and commend-ability. Much like political satire being rendered moot by the ludicrousness of current affairs during the last decade, it’s starting to feel like seven seasons in to Charlie Brooker’s dystopian visions, so much of what seemed shocking a few years ago has now come to pass; with many previously unpleasant uses for cutting-edge technology becoming positively passé. That being said, I did enjoy the sequel to the Star Trek fantasy episode, and the Paul Giamatti memory walk one was close to San Junipero in poignancy. Peter Capaldi was also very good in the episode that followed on from Bandersnatch, but the distressing plausibility of Common People’s life-saving-brain-implant-as-a-service became quite hard to watch.

After Severance, I must admit I haven’t made much use of the Apple TV subscription, although I did take a recommendation to give The Studio a try. Seth Rogen’s ode to the Hollywood studio system is a comedy packed full of seriously a-list cameos and rattles along nicely, although apparently not hilariously enough to see me going back for much more.

Finally, some sound to pair with all that vision.

An email recently reminded me that my past self had (quite possibly in a fit of drunken FOMO) purchased two tickets to see Orbital perform their first two albums at the Academy in Glasgow. Cue me trying to work out who I’d assumed would come with me to this gig, before eventually managing to corral together a wee squad for the journey there and back. I think this is the third time I’ve seen the brothers Hartnoll. The first saw a bunch of mates fresh out of high school going down to London to see what was apparently their final ever performance, at the Brixton Academy. Of course, it turned out that was one of about five ‘final’ tours and comeback albums. The only reason I went for this particular show was the fact all the newer stuff wouldn’t be a part of it, but again, they’re not to be believed, as the encore featured that cursed Spice Girls sampling new one.

10 years ago I blogged about the diminishing returns of my favourite UK electronic acts and broadly not much has changed my opinion, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t still love hearing their classics live in a room of ageing ravers - especially since the demographic at this (and the Underworld gig I attended last year) made me feel distinctly youthful.

While I’m on the subject of dad dance duos, I should say that the article I’ve been teasing about Slam’s return to The Arches, and their new album, is now up for your reading pleasure.

Before I leave you for another month, I’ll just squeeze in a couple more recommendations:

One of the most consistent producers of the last couple of decades, Simon Green AKA Bonobo, has a new album out. Technically it’s the soundtrack for a new Adult Swim manga series called Lazarus, but I haven’t gotten round to looking that up, so what I can say is that it’s every bit as good as any of his recent LPs. Perhaps lacking a standout single - understandably - it still works as a coherent whole and has pleasingly sound-tracked a few noticeably more pleasant working hours.

A final shout for the new Sault album, which sneaked out earlier this month to little acclaim (maybe I’m losing touch), and comprises a cogent collection of neo-soul and R&B that can also be used as nice round-the-house-background music; albeit with vocals.