Twitter ain’t what it used to be. Once a fun space with punning
hashtag games, TV live commentary, and beautifully dumb gags, in 2025 all of
the jokes are stolen and all of the photos are A.I. Thank goodness then for the
pure wholesome art of mr. joshua AKA @pants.
Their endearing art, usually a black and white singe panel illustration with an
occasional splash of colour – is a welcome balm in what can frequently be a
disorientating platform.
All too often, Twitter’s algorithm serves me incomprehensible
posts about topics I cannot decipher due to a lack of context clues. @pants’
near daily posts provide a respite, injecting a bit of warm-hearted whimsy into
the feed. Their distinctive world is one populated predominantly by men with tiny glasses, high
foreheads, and tidy moustaches. These earnest fellas commit to their work, whether
it’s decorating a gingerbread house or sewing costumes for mice.
But these humble Dairy Free Boys also know how to relax, taking time out to paint and dance.
I love the artist’s work so much that I bought a couple of prints in their
recent sale. The world needs more handmade distinctive art and mr. joshua has
personality by the bucketful.
Twitter this year also introduced me to Dropout. This
American streamer primarily promotes itself by posting scenes from their shows on
socials and by gum, it’s effective. After watching approximately two billion clips, I was sufficiently intrigued enough to subscribe and find out more about these very funny shows.
It turns out that Dropout is an absolute treasure trove of gameshows, comedy formats,
and tabletop / board game playthroughs starring some of the funniest improvisers working today. Emerging from the
ashes of CollegeHumor, this ever-growing underdog dropped scripted content in
favour of looser formats they could film in bulk with a revolving cast of top
improv talent. Whereas major networks have struggled to translate this not at
all new artform into something fit for broadcast, Dropout settled the question ‘how
do you put improv on TV’ with a simple ‘you just film improv’.
Goofy show Make Some Noise is a prompt machine, giving players specific scenarios to act out solo, in
pairs, or as a three. Off-kilter Very Important People gives guests a full makeover, transforming them into a variety of creatures
or objects, before sitting them down for an impromptu in-character interview.
Flagship panel show Game Changer sees participants faced with a new format each episode, requiring them to
adjust quickly to convoluted rules and new twists. This latter programme is the
closest America has got to creating their own Taskmaster.
All three of these shows are brilliant and I have binge-watched
them all, but, of Dropout’s catalogue, their actual verifiable phenomenon that
has broken containment is Dimension 20. This Dungeons and Dragon actual
play show sold out a night at Madison Square Garden.
To reiterate the significance of this: a stadium full of
people went to New York to watch seven actors sit on stage and roll dice. That
is how engaging and funny the series’ core septet is.
I have watched one and a half campaigns featuring the Intrepid
Heroes, the inaugural lineup from the show’s first series, and I love them.
This gang has been playing together since 2018 (and many different combinations
of them were in home games together before that) so their chemistry together,
the joy they find in each other, and the big leaps they trust they can make are
wonderful. Their latest series together, a twenty-episode steampunk / sky pirate
mashup of Jules Verne and eldritch horror entitled Cloudward, Ho!,
showcases all of this and proves they are each working at the top of their
game.
Episode one of this campaign is an exceptionally executed “get
the gang back together” plot which sees the former adventurers recruited one by
one for a mission to find their missing captain / mentor. The roleplaying gives
room for heavy emotional moments (their former leader inspires a lot of
conflicting difficult feelings) but also has time for dumb bits and messing
around. The projected illustrations are beautiful. The practical models on the
table are amazing. Cloudward, Ho! is a really good caper with
complicated interpersonal relationships, timey wimey shenanigans, and an adorable
invasive species named nut pugs.
Fittingly for a franchise which frequently puts capitalism
in the spotlight, Dimension 20 proved to me that trickle-down economics
does work, albeit in that I loved their core cast so much that I sought out
their other actual play projects.
Rotating Heroes,
a DnD podcast originally helmed by Dimension 20 stable and Make Some
Noise Noise Boy Zac Oyama and now captained by Jasper William Cartwright,
has a killer format. Three comedians play a short arc. The story ends. One
character from that game stays on and has a new adventure within the world with
two new guests. The cycle continues after every arc, therefore keeping
the lineups fresh without fully dropping an entire cast. This neat premise solves
the logistical problem of how to book your funny friends without tying them to
a long-term commitment and results in a wonderfully interconnected world where
fan favourites can return.
The first campaign’s best combination of guests comes in arc
three: improv teammates Devin Field, Victoria Longwell, and Jacob Wysocki. As
with Dimension 20, their long history of collaborating is the key to their
success here – their chemistry is off the charts. The trio spar and joke with
ease, establishing multiple running comedic bits including Wysocki repeatedly teeing
up major character reveals which will be dropped in the next session and the
party’s tenuous grasp of object permeance resulting in them instantly mourning an
ally as soon they move from view. The three are such a standout cast that it
is no surprise that their entire gang is brought back for a further outing
later in the show.
Also in regular rotation on my playlists is Not Another
D&D Podcast.
Very much a D&D podcast, this lovely silly show boasts not one but two Dimension
20 regulars. Cocreated by Brian “Murph” Murphy and Emily Axford with Jake
Hurwitz and Caldwell Tanner, this series’ hook is that each campaign takes
place after legendary heroes have already saved the world.
I am currently nearing the end of the first campaign (Bahumia)
and it is a giddy delight. Murph is a master at creating dweeby irritating heels
that the party can mercilessly make fun of. Emily and Jake early on start a seemingly
game-blocking joke that Tanner’s cheery boy scout is the only one of the team
who can read but across the course of the game their characters overcome this now-canon trait
through a series of sweet faltering steps towards literacy. Also, Emily’s
character has a possum companion named Paw Paw. Protected by Plot
Armour so he be injured but not killed, he is “voiced” by Murph making various
frantic squeals and animal sounds. He may be my favourite character in the
game.
Sticking with my go-to soundtracks while I work, this year I
finally watched comedy troupe SpitLip’s award-winning musical Operation Mincemeat.
This show also came on my radar via Twitter, this time because I started seeing
posts from their devoted fans, the Mincefluencers. As with the Dropout clips, curiosity
led to me investigating and the cast album soon went into regular rotation on my playlists. I Liked the cast videos posted by the show’s socials, rooted for them
whenever they were up for major awards, and was pleased when the original cast / creators were able to transfer the hit to Broadway. Throughout all of this,
I had not actually seen the show.
This changed when a family friend came to London and wanted
to treat us to some theatre. I pitched Operation Mincemeat and, as they
had missed seeing it on a recent trip to New York, we duly booked a matinee. I am relieved to report it
is a really great show with tightly choreographed farcical sequences, fast
costume quick-changes, and a wonderful performance from Peter McGovern as shy scientist
Charles Cholmondeley. As someone with a background in improv, sketch, and fringe
theatre, I’m a sucker for anything where a small cast plays all the parts so
this – where the quintet plays a range of characters across nationalities and genders
– is right up my street. Both the show, and the bizarre true war story it is
based on, are unlikely British triumphs.
Speaking of homegrown franchises, Taskmaster has now been on TV for a decade. Originally a comedy format
Alex Horne could run remotely ahead of a single
live show at the Edinburgh Fringe, this entertainment behemoth has now spawned books, a VR game, and countless international versions (the
Australia and New Zealand iterations are each great).
Both UK series this year (series nineteen and twenty) had
terrific lineups. Series nineteen’s contestants particularly were absolutely electric
together. This bunch of silly sausages frequently proved to be embarrassing,
oblivious, or outright weird – and it was a delight. Special mention must go to
visiting American fireball Jason Mantzoukas who adored watching the show so
much that he asked to be on it, flew himself over to the UK repeatedly in order
to do so, and shot the final two studio recording sessions while suffering from
food poisoning. Loving something so much that you want to crawl inside your television
and join in is a relatable feeling and parlaying your celebrity status into achieving it
is absolutely one of the few acceptable uses of fame.
In stark contrast, chasing your dreams and failing is the
subject of Glen Berger’s book Song of Spider-Man. This is a firsthand
account of the disastrous and expensive Spider-Man musical which resulted in
multiple cast injuries. This slow burn retelling reveals a surprising (to me at
least) fact: everyone involved was trying to make this show good.
Nobody was looking to rush out something sloppy to make a quick
buck. The core creative team (Berger, director Julie Taymor, U2’s Bono and the
Edge) sincerely wanted to produce a show with rocking songs, highbrow
references, and, well, edge. Instead, it spent so long in development that it
set a record for the most Broadway previews and became a laughing stock at the
Tonys. Despite this, the story is not disaster porn. Berger throughout believes
in the work and tries to fix the show. While he is ultimately unsuccessful, he
is happily able to walk away with minimal regrets and enemies.
Struggles of a different kind are the central topic in Gabrielle
Drolet’s Look Ma, No Hands.
This breezy book of essays centre on the writer-artist adjusting to a life of
chronic pain affecting her neck, arms, and hands. Typing, dating, and
assembling IKEA furniture – all are now impacted by her restricted mobility.
This is however by no means a misery memoir. It is a charming funny read which
also covers the bizarre assignments she tackles as a freelance writer (one
essay - about a project best summarised as Horse News - ran in The Guardian).
Once again, my exposure to this artist comes courtesy of
Twitter. Her animal-centric art provides another bright light in the darkness,
with her Rat A Day offering every October being a firm favourite of mine. I was
lucky enough that my suggestion kickstarted the month this year (in line with my love of DnD, I suggested a rat wizard).
Incredibly, when you order the book directly from her, you can request a custom pic.
I like squirrels and Halloween so naturally my suggestion was the fluffy
critters in costume. When my copy of the book arrived, I was delighted to see
this:
Personal stories also fuel Antosh Wojcik’s debut poetry collection Suburban Locust. Reading this gently surreal book, which features family traumas and feelings of displacement, feels magical. I’m fortunate enough to know the author I.R.L. – we met at university, collaborating on multiple plays and podcasts. I am delighted he found poetry and proud that he kept pursuing it.
As is evident from some of my earlier picks in this post, I like art and I like Dungeons and Dragons. Dungeons & Dragons: Art & Arcana: A Visual History therefore hits a bullseye in my Venn diagram of interests. Written by Michael Witwer, Sam Witwer, Kyle Newman, and Jon Peterson, this chronological look at artwork and designs for the world’s most famous tabletop game is a treat for the eyes full of pullout maps, concept art, and monsters. It’s a hefty tome, but absolutely worth it for almost half a century’s worth of cool illustrations and paintings featuring dragons.
If there is one thing to gleam from these reviews, it's that social media is still able to connect creatives and small businesses with people who love their work. Twitter definitely feels different from its innocent early days, but art still reaches fans and future fans, so please keep on posting.
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