I should have listened to Dr Kermode

If I was ever deluded enough to think I could become a contestant on 'Mastermind', one of my most likely choices for specialist subject would be "The End Of Civilization As We Know It, as depicted in popular works of fiction".

I've been keen on this type of story ever since I first read a tattered paperback copy of "The Day of The Triffids" that I found in the loft when I was about ten years old. It made me realize that there was a lot about my cosy life that I took for granted and while it was unlikely that we were in imminent danger of being over-run by carnivorous vegetables, "things could go wrong".
Since then, my world has been destroyed many times over, by various agencies. Alien invasion, polar ice-caps melting, global virus pandemic, asteroid impact and nuclear apocalypse. Anything that could go wrong, has gone wrong. And it's all been jolly entertaining too.

...until we get to "2012", which we watched the other night.

"2012" is a film from Roland Emmerich which must have sounded like a wonderful idea when they pitched it.
"Well it's about the end of the world, y'see. The earth's core goes wrong and there's like, earthquakes all over and cities slide into the sea and skyscrapers fall down and trains explode and the US President is very brave (and the Queen of England isn't) and more stuff blows up and planes fly through collapsing office buildings and then some guy saves his family from falling down a crack in the earth and ocean going liners capsize and even more stuff explodes and there's all these tidal waves and...and.....and.... more shit blows up. Oh and did I mention the President being brave?..."

This is a film with everything falling down and blowing up and drowning and burning that somehow manages to be dull. How on earth have they done that?
It is a movie that is so packed with CGI special effects that there's no space for anything else.

Is there a plot? Well, yes there is, but it's barely more than a flimsy thread from which hang an endless sequence of CGI set-pieces.
Are the characters believable? No. The actors in this film are little more than cyphers. Let's see what we've got. Heroic, but estranged father? Check! Russian crime lord? Check! Prostitute with a heart of gold? Check! Doomed scientists who weren't listened to when they warned us about what was going on? Check! Tibetan monks? Check! Plucky pet dog? Check!

Is it possible to care about anyone in the story? No. Once your single-parent family man has saved his children from the umpteenth computer generated and utterly unconvincing earthquake/tidal wave/exploding aircraft/collapsing shopping mall, you get a bit jaded. Even though the world is supposedly falling to bits, it's difficult to work up any sympathy for characters who are so obviously not in any real peril.
I felt that there should have been a disclaimer, similar to that of The American Humane Association at the end of the film , stating "No stunt persons were endangered during the making of this motion picture."
When a CGI aircraft flies through a collapsing CGI building in "2012", absolutely nobody is going to get hurt. When stunt pilot, Frank Tallman flew a twin engined Beechcraft 18 through a roadside advertising billboard in the film "It's a mad, mad, mad, mad world", there was every chance that he was going to get injured. It's a genuinely breathtaking and audacious piece of work.

To sum up. "2012" is a disaster movie and yet the level of disappointment that such an apparently thrilling spectacle actually delivers is well summed up in the BBFC consumer advice : "Contains moderate threat and one use of strong language".
It's supposed to be the end of the world, for crying out loud. I'd expect something more than "moderate threat".

When Mark Kermode reviewed this film, he went into full rant mode about how poor this film is.
I should have listened...

Frank Tallman (1919 - 1978)

The clip, showing this astonishing bit of flying is no longer available through YouTube, as MGM have blocked it.

End to End Frank: Day 10: Wednesday 26th May

Well, He's done it!

At quarter past nine this evening, Frank reached John O'Groats after a covering a total distance of 925 miles since last Monday

His last day on the road was another outstanding effort.
As he set off, at 6:30 this morning, it was raining. His first message was pretty downbeat: "psng dn! cold wet hungry. Not happy", but half an hour later, things were starting to look up. As he cleared Slochd Summit at 1328 feet above sea-level he could see that there was a break in the clouds ahead of him.

When he reached Inverness, he stoked up with coffee and a big, fatty breakfast in the warmth of the cafe at Morrison's. He admitted that the fat probably wouldn't be helpful, but it certainly felt good.
At a little after 3 pm he passed Dornoch and turned North-East for the final push towards Wick. With the wind almost behind him he was beginning to believe that he could make it to the finish before nightfall.

As Frank forged onwards, I went out to rehearse with my band. While we were setting up the gear, a text arrived from Wick, and at 9:15 the news came through that he had finally made it to John O'Groats.

When I 'phoned him, after our rehearsal had finished, he had already cycled back to Wick!
He was staying at a small hotel and was about to find the bar, so I didn't want to detain him for too long. He sounded understandably happy and thanked everyone who has been following his exploits for their support.

Of course doing the ride was the easy bit.
Now he's got to collect the sponsorship money...



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End to End Frank: Day 9

Contrary to what the date of this post would have you believe, this concerns Frank's progress on Tuesday 25th May 2010.

I'm working a series of Night Shifts this week, so as I was arriving home from work, Frank will have been doing his stretching excercises and psyching himself up for another day in the saddle. Suffice to say, I was fast asleep when the first of his texts came through from Perth, at about 11:20 am.

His next message marked the completion of 700 miles as follows:
"£7 rs sore! Legs OK. Right ankle going down... no up... no down. Oh yeah, it's on a pedal. Got caught talking to myself in Perth...."

By the time I'd woken up, at about 2:30 this afternoon, a third text had arrived announcing that there was less than 200 miles to go before he reached John O'Groats.

Another five hours and he had reached Aviemore, with views of snow on the mountains.

The last update of the day was from somewhere about 20 miles short of Inverness. He had found a pleasant spot to camp in a forest and was settling in for the night having covered 122miles. The roads had been good, but for a lot of the distance the wind hadn't been too favourable, so it had knocked down has average speed for the day to less than 13 mph.

He sounds as if he is in pretty good shape and with just* 140 miles left, it would take a something pretty serious to prevent him achieving his goal.

To quote Reallyfatbloke, "Franktastic".

* I can't believe I used the phrase "just 140 miles left"

End to End Frank: Day 8

It was suspiciously quiet this morning.

There were no text messages from our intrepid cyclist and I was starting to wonder whether he'd had some kind of crisis. Even though he's already broken the back of the journey, there are still several hundred miles to go before he gets to John O'Groats.
Certainly it seems  increasingly likely that he will complete the challenge, but it cannot be taken for granted.

By late afternoon, there was still no news until, shortly after five o'clock, I got a text to say that he had made it to Edinburgh. It also said that it was raining.
Although it was tempting to tell him how the weather was still warm and sunny down here in England, I decided that this would probably not be terribly welcome.

The last update of the day came through at 7:20 pm, as Frank crossed the Forth Road Bridge. I assume that the rain had stopped as I'm pretty sure he'd have mentioned it, had it still been falling.

It was particularly thoughtful of him to give me the opportunity to include a picture of the two Forth Bridges.
Cheers Mate.

Special Note:

Although this post is dated Tuesday 25th May, it actually refers to Monday 24th. 
It's a shift work thing.

End to End Frank: Day 7

So after a night's rest at the campsite in Scorton, Frank set off again along the A6 near Lancaster.
At just after noon, I got a text informing me that he'd reached Shap and had therefore clocked up five hundred miles. The next message was less encouraging.

When my mobile bleated to announce another incoming text, it read; "Lying in field. Everything hurts. Birds circling overhead. I think they're crows. I've seen too many films not to know I'm doomed!"

I decided that I should adopt a positive motivational tone and responded with, "Errr... Sounds grim. Drink beer."

I think he must have taken my advice, because about three hours later he reported in from a campsite at Ecclefechan, with the news that he'd covered 102 miles today.
The climb at Shap had clearly been a major effort though, and it will have had a significant effect on the average speed for the day, which was a mere 11mph.

These aren't crows...

End to End Frank: Day 6

Once again, the first text message of the day arrived as I was having breakfast.
Frank was just setting off, but he wasn't expecting to make huge progress, as his ankles had swollen up. This was not encouraging news, because it was trouble with his achilles tendons that put paid to his previous attempt on this route. He reckoned he'd just aim for Preston and see how it went.

By the time I'd driven to Worcestershire and arrived at the rehearsal studio, there were two more messages.
The first was timed at 10:41, marking the passing of the 400 mile point, while the second had been sent from Wigan at 13:22. Not such dreadful progress  then.
The drummer I was rehearsing with was very sympathetic, as he'd done the same journey some years ago. He said that he'd never quite got over how when he'd reached Scotland, there was so much further left to go. I decided not to pass this depressing thought on to Frank.

By the time our rehearsal was over and we'd been for some refreshment at "The Plough" in Pershore, Frank had reached the campsite at Scorton where he will be spending tonight.

As I drove the hundred miles homeward, back up the M6, I struggled to get my head round the fact that for the last few days, Frank has been repeatedly covering the same distance on a bike.

Extraordinary.

Scorton

End to End Frank: Day 5

I got a text message from Frank as I was having breakfast.
The gist of it was that he'd made it to Biddulph Moor and would be having the rest of the day off.
OK, he was going to spend some of the time fettling his bike to make sure it was in tip-top shape for the second (long) half of the expedition, but at least it would be a day out of the saddle and a chance to recover in the comfort of his own home.

I decided to nip into Jodrell and pick up some mail. I had a quick chat with a couple of colleagues in the Control Room, collected my post and headed back to the car park.

Just as I was about to leave, Frank rolled up in his car.
He looked surprisingly fit for someone who's just cycled about 400 miles in 4 days. When I asked him what made him abandon trying to make it home yesterday, he confessed that he'd been getting pretty hungry at about six o'clock, so he'd stopped at a pub for a meal. It would have been rude not to have a beer while he was waiting for his fish pie to arrive, so he had a pint. It was very good. It was so good, in fact that he decided it would be much more sensible to have another beer and camp for the night, rather than over-exert himself.

So tomorrow he's off again, heading towards the wilds of Lancashire.
I, on the other hand, will be driving in the opposite direction, as I'm going to Worcestershire, to spend several hours in a studio in Pershore in "Prog Monster" mode, so the Twitter updates may be a bit few and far between.