Guys, guys, guys --

I am trying so hard to make it through the first episode of the remake of Life on Mars and I just -- I can't, man. I'm trying to write an in-depth response as to why I don't like it (because honestly at this point? I am programmed to dislike it) and to do that requires actually, you know, watching the episode attentively and I just can't. I watch for seven minutes or so before I squirm away from the screen, literally shuddering and running for my DVDs.

It steals directly from the original insofar as lines, camera shots, even original music, and then drastically changes the characters personalities. It's all so uneven! It doesn't fit! Watching this just furthers my hatred for ABC that they even attempted to touch something so brilliant.

This paragraph from The Guardian nicely sums up my feelings on the future of this project:

Saleable stories are a dime a dozen in Hollywood and if this one doesn't work out every producer has a sackful more waiting to try out. But whether they recognize it or not, Life on Mars was a special show whose viewers connected with it more than they would with your run-of-the-mill formulaic time-travel drama. To buy into this franchise without understanding that seems a big waste of everyone's time.

You know what this is like? This is like reading a bad AU fic with widely OOC characterisation and some unexplained canon inconsistencies. That feeling is the feeling I have right now and if I could flame ABC, I would, I swear.

Pet me and tell me I don't need to torture myself like this?

Ashes to Ashes on DVD arrived in the post today. I've been twiddling my thumbs anxiously for it to arrive so that I can clear off my over-taxed harddrive. I plan a marathon tomorrow and maybe then I might finally finish the Meta Reaction Post of Doom I've meant to post for the past six weeks.

Even better than the DVDS is the book that also came. The Rules of Modern Policing (1973 Edition) by, yes, DCI Gene Hunt. I get such a kick out of pieces of fanon like this, between Gene's narrative and Chris' inserted footnotes (apparently this is his book) and the battered cover and fake coffee stains.It's ridiculous and I love it and it details the Cortina's engine. That is unbareably exciting. I love that car. It also has funny and skeevy doodles in the margines drawn by Chris, which makes me larf. Yes, I am a big dork for buying it but honestly. Hilarity ensues.

It comes with such gems and potential plot bunnies as:

1.1 Tools of the Trade
"[T]here are something you will need every day and should never leave home without:

e. Cuffs. Sounds obvious but you'd be surprised how many times I've seen an officer caught short of the bracelets. Not only are they a vital piece of equipment for keeping Johnny Slag trussed up and out of trouble, some of you might find a use for them at home as well. Know what I mean?"

I'm going to consider it canon now that Gene really wants to cuff Sam and have his way with him. Oh yes.


Also: yay Moffat! Like almost everyone else, I find this to be fantastic and reassuring news.

I was going to say something interesting, perhaps about the Mighty Boosh, or a play I saw yesterday, or possibly, even, the weather, which no, isn't usually interesting, but I was going to introduce it with a funny re-telling. I was going to do that until I saw ( this ).

And then my brain promptly stopped fuctioning. PRETTY. Pretty. That's as far as my brain gets before looping back on itself. Pretty. Foxy mofo, indeed.

ETA: Brain slightly more fuctional. Now what I want to know is WHERE IS THE PORN? My partner in crime when it comes to these things is curiously MIA and I. Just whatever, man. Porn. There should be porn for this. Where is it?

I love Life on Mars. I just -- really, really love it. I love the characters. I love the stories. I love the continual power plays and the rare, little moments where Sam and Gene reach an understanding about each other and how Chris can be an idiot but also always eager to learn and how Ray can say the worst things but they always make me smile. I love the music. I love when John Simm cracks that big, crazy grin of his. I love everything about this show.

It makes me happy, at random times, like at six in the morning when I should be sleeping but am watching episodes instead.

I sat up all night waiting for Radiohead pre-sale tickets, which of course didn't go up until 8am -- a time I would have been awake anyway.

In the intermin between the fifteen hourly vigils over at W.A.S.T.E., I watched every episode of Life on Mars apart from the finale and attempted to write a reaction post to Ashes to Ashes, which I caught up on this weekend. The reaction post turned into something of an essay, which terrified me and made me wonder if I should construct a thesis statement, which terrifed me even more. (Everyone knows thesis statements don't belong in fandom.) So I gave up on that to watch more Life on Mars and cry for a moment over a picture of Thom Yorke (it was this one if you're curious) and research punctuation on Wikipedia. (Did you know curly brackets are called flower brackets in India?)

There almost doesn't seem to be a point to watching the episodes anymore. I've seen them so many times I can't even think up a way to describe what it feels like to watch them now. It's like breathing, except perhaps underwater, where the bubbles still catch my attention but I forget now that I'm breathing oxygen. Or something.

The finale would solve this dilema, as it would make me go back to watch everything again searching for little clues of foreshowing, but my mind seems to have formed a Second Coming complex about it: I think I will watch it in the near future but in reality, it could be 2000 years from now that I actually see it, give or take a few decades.

It makes me miss Ashes to Ashes, which made a good substitute for Life on Mars cravings. Ashes to Ashes is the methadone to Life on Mars' heroin-like addictive properties. And yes, I did just compare a television programme to both Jesus and a highly illegal drug.

The state of this entry reflects well what Radiohead does to my brain.

I bought Life on Mars on DVD! I made my (region 1) DVD player play it! (Through illegal means that do not bear repeating.)  I can watch the finale now! Finally! After five months' resistence! (It has seriously been five months!) No more pixilated computer-resolution for me!

Obviously my repetative exclaimations are a sign of great and shiny joy! 



It has taken me five hours to complete this entry, from opening the window to typing all 53 words.  And yes, I counted them just to share that factoid with you.

After about twelve hours of downloading, I finally watched Ashes to Ashes. 

Confession: I still haven't seen the finale to Life on Mars. I don't know when I will. I don't know if I will -- at least for some time. So I actually have no idea what happened to Sam. I don't know how thoroughly things were resolved. I am walking blind, hoping I don't run into things. :)

It isn't Life on Mars; that's a given. Of course, I didn't expect it to be Life on Mars either. I went in expecting it to be something (a good something, a bad something, a generally different something -- something) and it was something, and I don't feel disappointed. 

I don't exactly feel elated either. As I purposefully kept myself from setting expectations, I can't very well say the episode didn't meet them. But it's not Life on Mars and I like Life on Mars and I am exceedingly wary of anything that may jepordise my love. Especially when it's still new and shiny and fresh from the box like my Life on Mars love is. 

( Spoilers for Ashes to Ashes 1x01 )

Um. That might be it? I think this is long enough already. I await patiently for the next episode, but again, no expectations. Now I want to read copious amounts of Sam and Gene playing around together and Sam being, you know, around. (JOHN SIMM!)
 

Related to my dream from last night -- apparently a description was just not enough to suffice.

earlwyn: akldjaklsd
earlwyn: okay
earlwyn: lom fandom
earlwyn: ilu but you have some SRS bad writers
earlwyn: STOP RECCING THEM ALL OVER THE PLACE
earlwyn: french maid ray may have to come get you with his feather duster otherwise
hry2007: lolol
hry2007: i want pix of that
earlwyn: lol
earlwyn: *whips out photoshop*
hry2007: NOOOOOO
hry2007: NOT FOR REALZZZ
earlwyn: TOO LATE

I keep puking, and I have the chills and the shakes. No one should let me around graphics software in my condition.

I just woke up from a dream where Sam Tyler walked into Gene Hunt's office to find Gene on all fours on the floor, being spanked and tickled with a featherduster held by Ray, who was wearing a French maid's uniform. Sam was standing there, weirded out and uncomfortable, until Gene told him to stop his fidgeting. Didn't he know that Jackie Queen did a piece about this six months ago? This is how they solve cases in 1973.

I think it's final now: I watch too much Life on Mars. Far more than is healthy at least, for dreams like that.

Seriously, though. French maid uniform? Ray? *scrubs eyes*  ETA: Now with pictorial evidence!