Thirty Life Lessons

Recently I turned thirty (“Whaaat? But you look so young!” Shush, that’s enough). I have heard two things about this next decade:

a) having experimented in your twenties and tried on many hats (figuratively, but, in my case, literally), you have a better understanding of who you are.

b) if you sleep in an awkward position once, you will be in pain for the rest of your life.

Now, I’m barely one month removed from reaching my fourth decade, so I cannot objectively assess either of these things. However, it would have been impossible to have passed three hundred and sixty months without gaining some opinions on how to do life.

Here then, entirely unsolicited and by zero existent demand, are thirty pieces of advice I try to live by.

Time you enjoy wasting is not wasted.

Our lives are made up of racing and rests. It’s okay to take a break and scroll your phone. Doing nothing is as important as doing something “useful”. If we’re always productive, we will burn out.

Prioritise you and your health over everything and everyone (source: my current supervisor)

It is okay to cancel a DnD session if you have a headache. Your friends would rather postpone an event than you attend disengaged, exhausted, and aching.

If a crucial part of your company’s service would collapse in your absence as you’re a loadbearing employee, that is not on you. They need contingency plans and a more flexible structure in place.

You cannot look after others if you do not look after yourself. To this end…

Use your holiday leave and take time off work (especially if you live in Europe where you are entitled to almost a full month of annual leave a year!)

If you must have career regrets on your deathbed, make sure it’s not that you should have worked more days. Sporadic Bank Holidays and the Christmas break are not enough rest stops in the year to refuel you. Take time off for weddings, vacations, gigs (watching or performing), seeing family, or just pick a random day for a nice day out. Most of your memories should be made outside of work.

That said…
 
Work socials are crucial

If your workplace is anything like mine, your group chat is dominated by talk of scheduling, meetings, logistics – you know, the fun stuff. The times our teams feel closest to falling apart is when we discuss only that. We forget we are friends as well as partners and colleagues in an enterprise.

This is why we need the Friday night hang. The Christmas do. The pet pics on WhatsApp. It reminds us we are more than cogs in our shared machine. We are humans with lives and we like each other.
 
Not all friendships last forever

Sitcoms would have you believe teams stay intact for eight years. These shows usually end when found families part ways.

Some of your friends will leave the city - or the country. After uni, you may find some bonds were based purely on geography or a shared space or purpose. Not everyone in your life will stick around but the ones you endeavour to keep around and, equally, those that actively work to see you, they will be with you forever (or as long as you enjoy each other’s company) because…
 
It’s not what you do that matters, it’s who you do it with

A spa weekend could be stressful if your mate is ticked off. Two weeks in a sunny clime can be nice but your standout memory may be the messing around at the airport.

Some of my best birthdays were not built around events where we get to places at specific times. They were relaxed low pressure hangouts where we looked for something else when we were ready.

And I’m not anti-plans. I’m a rules-loving man who loves A Routine. If we’re meeting up though? Let’s just chat and goof around! Also…
 
Don’t obsess about the pictures

I reached a point where I would be at an event and be thinking of how great the photos shared on socials afterwards would be. This is no way to live.

What cured me of this mindset was pictures never arriving (turns out life can go on just fine without snapshots of me on a stage or at a do). Or worse – images came but there was no single perfect shot. I looked odd or a friend was squinting or it was otherwise unflattering for one of us so it was kinder to not share it.

Not everything has to be marked with a picture. By all means, let’s get a group selfie when we meet, but I accept now that not all meetups will result in a new album on Facebook. After all…
 
Not everything has to be #content

Being online all the time has encouraged us to share everything. In the absence of jokes or insight to offer, the easiest thing to post is things from your life. Whether there is any value to doing this (for you or anyone else) is rarely considered. You need to feed the content machine. You don’t exist if you do not constantly dispatch missives from your world.

I think it is fine to put everything on the web if you want. But what little I have to report, I’ll just share with friends.

Similarly…
 
No one needs to know you didn’t enjoy something

There is more than enough snark on the internet. In lieu of sharing something from your day, one sure-fire way to generate #content is to dismiss something. Denigrate someone’s looks or talent. Write off a movie that SUCKED.

It’s easy. Does it make you feel better? The dopamine hits of reactions may but they are fleeting.

The cliché is true – if you cannot say something nice, do not say anything at all. If I hated a show, you will never hear a word about it from me. However, if I adored something or appreciated an element of what they did, I’ll pass it on. I only put out recommendations.

Wouldn’t you exude that energy? Be an advocate and…
 
Enjoy things unashamedly and wholeheartedly

I find it endearing when a friend is a fan of something to the extent it forms part of their identity. I can only dream of being so into something that the sight and thought of it brings you intense joy.

Granted, if your passion of choice is harmful, immoral, or illegal, I’m less inclined to encourage it, but otherwise, GO FOR IT. Buy the t-shirt, attend the convention. Decorate your life with what you like as…

It’s not a useless or frivolous purchase if it sparks joy (again, granted, unless it’s harmful, immoral, or illegal…)

Look, you don’t need a soap dish that looks like a lily pad (that said, now I’m picturing one, that does seem delightful). If it will make you smile every time you see it though, it is totally worth it.

It’s your money, your choice. So start that collection!

My vice? Blind bag of Lego minifigures. I don’t buy them constantly – I’m keen to ensure they remain a treat rather than routine – but if there’s a series or design that I like, I’ll buy one. I, quite literally…
 
Delight in the small things

When I am on holiday, I take shots of my friends, but most of my pictures are of punning shop names, interesting museum plaques, or baffling graffiti.

It is the little things that stand out. The most inspiring speech may stir a crowd, but if the speaker’s voice accidentally cracked on the word ‘action’, you can bet that’s all I will recall.

Paying attention to details is a crucial quality for most jobs, but such awareness is important generally to ensure you always see interesting stuff. Focus and it will pay off. That applies to speaking too…
 
Have one conversation at a time

One valuable lesson I learnt from practicing improv is that talking is not a competition. It is far more fulfilling to discuss one topic than taking it in turns to introduce your tangentially related anecdote.

I would rather we chat about one thing instead of several even if I have little to offer on a subject. If I ask questions that I am interested in getting answers to, I will never get bored, plus I might learn something. Not sure about this approach?
 
Try it, you might like it

Ah, another irritating bit of homespun wisdom – and all the more annoying because it is true.

In my life, this initial reluctance has applied to pizza (hot bread topped with vegetables mixed with cheese? Sounds weird); table service (don’t make me talk to strangers!); customer support (don’t make me talk to angry strangers!).

As it turns out, pizza is great, stepping out from behind the bar to write down some food orders really helps my colleagues, and customer queries can be like mini mysteries to be solved! Albeit cases where the answer is often ‘it’s THERE. You already have it. You’re just looking in the wrong place!’.

You may actually enjoy bungee jumping, but you will not find out until you leap off the platform.
 
It’s healthy to break routines

Being comfortable is not always good. You cannot stay in a hot bath forever because you will wrinkle and the water will go cold. Some conditions must change.

After the world reopened, I continued largely working from home. I was able to convince myself that staying in permanently was great and sporadic video calls were an adequate substitute for offline human interaction. Being inside was safe and who doesn’t like being safe?!

I have since been convinced to leave my room and commute in a few times a week. I now enjoy the benefits of something crucial for any job: someone to rant with.
 
You need someone to affirm your shared experience

Whether it’s a sibling agreeing that aspects of your upbringing were stressful or a colleague co-signing your frustration that lunch break is mandated for 4PM, you need a second party to go ‘you’re right, that is weird’.

To vent instead of keeping in something toxic? It’s not just for noxious gases – it works for humans too.

If feeling heard is not sufficient, one possible solution to destress...

You need nights off (even from something fun)

Most of our day is spent at work, so naturally we’re desperate to make our nights worthwhile. That’s OUR time. We EARNT this.

Of course, your social life can be as draining as your job if you overschedule yourself. Just because you once agreed to commit Tuesdays to archery practice does not mean you are obliged to attend every week until you die. Grab an early night instead of your kit. Your body will thank you.

Speaking of slowing down…
 
It’s better to be late than The Late (source: my granddad)

People would rather be put out by a delay than mourn you because your haste meant you didn't check for oncoming cars before stepping out into the road.

Semi-related…
 
Work to your own timeline

I am thirty and have only recently found a stable job with office hours. Some of my Sixth Form peers are thirty and have houses / married / kids. Not only do we do things at our own pace, we may not have the same priorities.

Comparison is the thief of joy (source: Teddy Roosevelt). Work on yourself and you will be ready to, should you want it, get into a relationship or accept that promotion. To that end…
 
Continuity can be an achievement.

Continuing to stay in one role or keeping up a hobby takes work. If you find where you are at satisfying, you do not need to level up. Some of us are content maintaining our little corner of the world. I am happy helping run an improv jam. I am not looking to become an improv teacher.
 
It is okay to keep something as a hobby.

Self-explanatory.
 
Accept your limits.

My grandma reiterates in most phone calls that she thinks I should be an actor.

Here is the thing – I know I have a limited range. I can do happy-go-lucky naïve waif or dry reserved dogsbody. I could work on expanding beyond them, but those are my sweet spots.

Would I turn down a run at the Edinburgh Fringe? Well, no, but…
 
Question the Why of your desires

Playing at the Edinburgh Fringe seems to be quite a common career milestone among my performer peers. It is one I too occasionally covet, but when I consider the core appeal of that dream, it’s not the opportunity to be talent spotted nor the chance to bump into Them Off the Telly. No, it is the prospect of doing a show a lot of times. Which I can achieve for way cheaper at the Camden Fringe.

Not that I would ever discourage pals to head to Scottish stages. Not at all! If they want to…
 
Good for them. That’s not for me

Work a job with a purpose

Before I got my office job, I did a five-year stint as a restaurant bartender. I tolerated it in part because it was straightforward.

What do I do? Make drinks. How do I know I have done it well? The drink was correct and made quickly.

It was not anyone’s dream to be there, but you knew at the end of the shift that you had Achieved a Thing. It was also reassuring to remember that…
 
Nothing must be for forever.

I accept that some people's options for change are limited by their finances, location, or family circumstances, but those that you can control, you can change.

You can drop out of the Tuesday night archery because the long drive sucks. You can leave a troupe if there’s toxic people. You can quit your unfulfilling job if the buddies that made it alright have all moved on.

Sometimes stability is not a good enough reason to maintain the status quo. Things change...

People move on (so you have to be self-sufficient)

Relationships end. Friends move away. Your supervisor can change department.

Sometimes you will have to amuse yourself or be in charge of deciding what to work on. Make as many friends as you can handle but accept that sometimes you will have to make your own fun.

Here’s the good and bad news: no one is thinking of you (source: various, but most recently, this Pearls Before Swine comic)

You are a unique complex individual with lots of thoughts and commitments and chores. And so is EVERYONE ELSE.

So yes, you won’t necessarily be on people’s minds all the time because they’re BUSY. However, this also means they’re probably not dwelling on that embarrassing thing you did that makes you cringe at night.

If you want to keep them in your sphere, great! Get in touch, acknowledge the occasional social media post, wish them a happy birthday (only on the day, obviously). If you do meet...
 
Tell people how you are really feeling.

If asked ‘how are you’, instead of completing the ritual with the expected ‘not bad. How are you?’, I take a second, then answer honestly.

It’s important to know what energy or baggage someone is bringing to a room. I won’t know to be patient to someone if they did not tell me they had a bad night’s sleep.

You know why you might not sleep well? Pain, so...

Sit up straight.

You’re thirty, after all. You don’t want to fuck up your back.

My Apology

On Monday night, I participated in an improv jam in which I expressed a clear preference for Digimon over Pokémon. In addition to this, I also shouted uttered an expletive in relation to Pikachu and declared them inferior to Digimon’s Agumon.

I would like to distance myself from these remarks. They were said in character and, as such, they do not reflect my true opinions. While I enjoyed the serialized nature of the Digimon series, I have always been drawn more to the offbeat humour of Pokémon and their quirky character designs.

Far from wishing any ill will to any Pikachu, I have previously stated on the record that I would consider getting a tattoo of their likeness. Seeing a picture of them always makes me smile.

I would like to apologise to everyone I have let down. I also offer a personal apology to Pikachu. I deeply regret the hurt I have caused and am truly sorry.

Keep Your Hobbies Fun: Why I choose to enjoy the level where I am.

'I can't wait to see to see what you do next.'

They were words of encouragement, but they sent me for a spin. Next? I haven't finished having fun with this project, let alone thought of what to follow it up with. I was proud to be making One Good Thing. Now I must devise a second?

When it comes to your career, I appreciate that it is important to always think of where you are going next. A gap in the CV will be questioned. It will look like you do not have ambition or are lazy.

What are the rules when it comes to something you pursue for fun?

I consider myself successful in many areas of my life, not because I have moved up, but because I have stayed still. I have managed to keep some of my creative ventures going for over five years. Keeping any role for half a decade, regardless of whether it is the job that pays your bills or serving as treasurer of the Taunton Crochet Club, is an achievement. If you enjoy what you are doing, why change?

Again, I must stress, in a hobby. If you are a decent employee who adds value to a company, you should ideally get more responsibilities and/or money. Unless you are the treasurer of the Taunton Crochet Club – in which case. that money stays in the communal purse, damnit!

I have previously turned down the opportunity to start teaching improv. This was for a multitude of reasons, the simplest of which is that I did not want to. I like running a show and still find that a thrill, so, although I could do that alongside running classes, I said no. I was less concerned about my continual professional development and more interested in following the fun.

This brings me to the question of what I will do next.

As of 2019, I have written four series of my comedy zombie noir podcast, Dead Drunk Detective. In addition to scripting all twenty-seven episodes, I also cast and direct the show alongside my producer, Katharine*. This figurative wearing of multiple hats means I have a big influence on the project. It also means I am frequently fretting about it.

When I eventually wrap up Dead Drunk Detective, would I want to take on the challenge of creating another show? Currently, I do not know. Then again, people say that about having more children, then some tricksy hormones make them forget all about the pain sufficiently long enough that they in fact do go through it all again.
At least, I think that is what I was taught in biology. I don’t remember – I was too busy shushing my rowdier classmates.

Maybe, after all these many months apart from friends, it would be refreshing to get people together not for the sake of a project, but to just hang out. One of my first podcasts at uni was basically an excuse to invite pals and funny acquaintances to tell me their stories. Now why have that contrivance?

Speaking of The Booth, that panel show was one of my first Good Ideas and a format I really have been trying to top ever since. Eventually, like a lot of creatives who find something that hits early in their career, I took the easy route: I revived it. Twice.

My thinking was that I like doing it, I know how it works, and it is a chance to play with my friends. Most crucially - and now I hit upon a key reason Dead Drunk Detective may be a little more work than it has to be – its release does not have to tie-in with an annual holiday.

Herein lies the solution. Just as with my decision not to start teaching, I should continue to create, but on my terms. In devising a show that must appear on or by Halloween, I managed to make the fraught role of showrunner even more stressful. It was like deciding that juggling swords wasn’t hard enough, so I opted to do it while walking across a tightrope.

If – and it would still be a big ‘if’ even without a pandemic draining my will to write – I do run another series, I will give myself the space to enjoy it. Having no deadlines at all guarantees something never gets down, but casually committing to something might be the way to go. After all, I’m not being paid for any of it.

* Katharine has written a guide to creating podcasts for your business! It will no doubt be excellent. Download the book.

My Five Favourite Pieces from 2020

Ah, 2020. A year in which very little occurred - but only because ONE VERY SPECIFIC THING happened.

I went into the new decade quietly determined to write more. I had neglected this page as of late - most years the number of posts I wrote were in single digits - so vowed to not only up the quantity, but also increase the range of formats I tackled.

The result? I ended up producing thirty-nine reviews, episode guides, and dumb jokes. It was my most productive period for the blog since its inception. Although, admittedly, that is largely because I spent October looking back at every single episode of my spooky podcast, Dead Drunk Detective.

That said, I'm proud of the work I did in the last twelve months. I think a few of the things I wrote are some of the best pieces on the blog. Here is a ranked list of my top five posts from the year (which, weirdly, all were written at the end of their respective months).

5. 'How Tabletop Role-Playing Games got me Through 2020' (December 28th)

My attempt to explain to the unconverted why games like DnD are fun. It also gives me an excuse to promote 'Monster of the Week', an RPG that I love.

4. 'Good for Them. That's not for Me' (March 24th)

Some sincere advice on dealing with jealousy. In terms of career envy, that is. I have nothing to offer in terms of dealing with relationship drama.

3. 'My Secret to Staying Young' (January 24th)

A quick 'one joke and I'm out' piece. My apologies to anyone who clicked the link in hopes of finding out how I keep it tight.

2. 'Five Thing to Know about Improv' (February 28th)

As of 2020, I have been performing improv comedy for five years. That makes me more than qualified to offer some unsolicited advice.

1. 'Passed A Way' (July 29th)

An extremely dumb piece full of nonsensical instructions for my funeral. I started the first draft of this on a laptop which later crashed. Choosing to ignore this omen, I finished writing it up once I was back online. It is a deliciously silly list and I love it very much.

Goodbye, Wisconsin! (a That '70s Show review)

‘Hanging out/down the street/the same old thing/we did last week’

When I was at uni, a friend turned me on to something great. No, not drugs. That '70s Show. I'd never heard of it, let alone seen it, which is quite surprising considering I'm quite the comedy aficionado.

Every time I went round to his flat, we’d (aptly enough, given the show’s main location) go to his basement and watch a disc. After uni, these visits became less frequent. Once I moved to London, they stopped altogether.

I hadn’t finished the series. I remembered it being good though, so I asked for the box set for my birthday. Bizarrely the version my mum found was the German release. It had subtitles and the original dub though, so I started binging.

Not a death threat to Swilden Siebziger.

I soon was doing three discs a night, three nights in a row.

This show is unlike any sitcom I’ve seen before. The people feel so real. When characters argue, their spat isn’t some Fight Of The Week that is resolved before the final credits. They hold grudges. They mope. They break up and get back together and break up again. At times, it was like a very funny soap.

This is a show that’s not afraid to take its time, sit in a silence, or slowly bring characters together. The scripts smartly write in and around people’s absences. The creative team have a long memory, so each of the gang are rightly called out as hypocrites when mocking others for something they previously did.

The writing is incredibly consistent. Sure, there were arcs I didn’t like, couplings I didn’t buy. The finale is part clip show which I feel wastes time which could otherwise be spent giving us one more moment with our onscreen friends. But really, there weren’t any episodes that were ‘meh’. They’re all decent right into, and including, the eighth series which infamously struggled due to the loss of two key cast members.

Speaking of which, I don’t hate the character of Randy as much as The Internet seems to, but I do wish he’d been given more flaws. To that end, I very much share Kitty’s opinion of him ‘he's so charming and friendly and always willing to lend a helping hand. What a jackass’.

Stupid sexy Randy.

This show did so much right and very little wrong. Plus, they really struck lucky with the cast. Everyone in that ensemble proves they are worth a place in the team. They commit and sell every line. I could single out Ashton Kutcher as one of the best – this series really showcases his gift for physical comedy – but truly each of the team are great. They make their characters so endearing you mostly overlook their seedier sides (I still find Fez a little unsettling).

While this may not be my favourite show - that honour goes to 30 Rock - it has certainly jumped straight into my top five. Kelso playing with six dogs at once ranks as one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen, as does his repeated failed attempts to understand what his dad’s job is. I found myself heavily emotionally invested in Eric and Donna’s relationship and hoped so much they’d work things out. I appreciate that the adults weren’t portrayed as sexless dullards, but instead were as sympathetic and screwed up as the kids.

This show was smart and treated its viewers as such. I’m sad it’s over. I'm really going to miss hanging out in the basement.

Sketches VS Improv

Whilst discussing improv with my Granddad, he asked me a question I’d never considered before  - what is there to stop people writing up your scenes and passing them off as their own material?

Well, obviously there’s nothing (short of hiring a bouncer to frisk people for pens), but in response to this surprising query, I surprised myself with my answer.

‘Nobody would want to do that because sketches and improv scenes are very slightly different.’

Up until then, I had not considered nor articulated that point. I agree with it though.

Sure, on a surface level, the two seem to have a similar shape and use the same devices - recurring characters, catchphrases and callbacks. Only playing one idea at a time – but they’re different beasts.

The most glaring contrast clearly is how they’re formed. In improv, you organically discover something fun together. With sketches, it’s just you versus a blank page. Is it any wonder then that I’ve barely scribed any skits since committing my nights to improv? And I’m on the committee of the London Comedy Writers. I should be inspired to churn out pieces weekly!

But no. I can’t go back to scripts now. The creative process of improv is far more joyful. It produces exciting one-off ‘you had to be there’ moments every single time you go onstage. The audience gives you more leeway than they would with prewritten material because they know that you don’t know what you’re doing.

Which brings me onto a further distinction: audience expectations. Recently an improv coach called me out for being witty at the top of a scene. That’s my old sketch instincts kicking in – I’m used to aiming for that first laugh as soon as possible. You walk on with a joke at the top of a sketch and the audience love it because they’re expecting three minutes of wall to wall gags. You’ve given them what they want.

This doesn’t necessarily work with improv. As said coach pointed out, if you start with a witty line, someone has to follow it up with a wittier one in order to build momentum. A joke contest then ensues and any chance of a story or character developing dies. The audience is amused but you’ve robbed yourself and them of a more interesting scene that actually had no obligation to be funny. Improv can be straight scenes or impressions or games. There is no one tone or style.

And so to my third distinction: pacing. Sketches often race to get their premise out hence why they frequently start with exposition-heavy dialogue that nails their situation like ‘the delegates are late, ambassador’, ‘we need a new name for Cheetos’, and, famously, ‘ello, I’d like to register a complaint’.

Improv players, however, have the luxury of time. They can start scenes by making eye contact, silently sizing each other up, and assessing whether anything about their partner’s body language or position on stage suggests what type of dynamic or situation to play. They cannot rush to their premise until they have found and agreed upon it. Their first line doesn’t have to be funny or informative (although obviously if it’s the latter, that’s brilliant– specificity and context is reassuring. Once an audience gets the setup, they will follow you anywhere). It just has to be the first ball over the net in a tennis rally that gets the game going. Improv can be a far more relaxed affair.

And it’s this aspect that would get lost in the write up of a spontaneous skit. Yes, tightening scenes would make them more concise, get to key details earlier, but cutting to the chase would be far less fun for both performer and observer. For everyone involved, the Eureka Moment is exhilarating, the relief intense. The unintentional delayed gratification is what makes improv special. Sketches can withhold key details – on the radio you can reveal within the punchline that both characters were squirrels – but they do so on purpose because they knows when to play a trump card. Improvisers aren’t even sure they’ll have a card. That mystery is what keeps their form fresh and interesting and makes it ultimately more thrilling than sketch.

My Granddad’s other question was whether I get paid for gigs. Uh, pass.

Time to Party

Back to the Future Day is finally here. Do you know what that means? People will finally stop posting memes with the wrong date. Also I’ve a decent excuse to write about what I consider to be the best film trilogy of all time.

Yeah, that’s right, forget Star Wars. It doesn’t have a dog called Einstein. Although Back to the Future does have Darth Vader…

Image copyright: Universal.

Yes, we are now in 2015, the year Marty travelled to from 1985, and whilst we have video phone calls, are working on hover boards, and did get a 3D version of Jaws, we still don’t have flying cars. We also, thanks to Robert Zemeckis and Bob Gale retaining the rights, have yet to get a new reboot or sequel to the BTTF series, thus allowing the franchise’s legacy to remain untarnished.

Thank goodness they’ve kept their integrity because, despite being thirty years old, these great movies are still inspiring people today. The band McFly and rapper Doc Brown took their name from the protagonists, a Bizarro World version of the central duo is presented in Rick and Morty, and there 'it's your cousin, Marvin' has become a popular setup for jokes on Twitter. There is clearly a lot of lingering love for this franchise.

And yet the original was never guaranteed to be a success. I mean, consider the pitch – there’s a stereotypical bug-eyed wild haired mad scientist, horny teen hitting on her own son, and that most cheesy of tropes, saying the title within the film. If the makers had misjudged the tone, this could have been the best Worst B-Movie Ever. Instead the humour’s just right, the caricature’s restrained, and it’s a brilliant piece. Indeed, that first film is as close to perfect as possible.

"Seriously, this guy's one of our heroes? Uh, we'll pass." - What some exec thankfully didn't say.

Picture copyright: Universal

As a writer, I massively appreciate callbacks and satisfying payoffs. It’s why I like improv, detective stories, and stand up. It’s also why I’m such a huge fan of Back to the Future. As with the other screenplay I consider exceptional, A Bug’s Life, every line in the first in the trilogy serves a purpose. Each bit of dialogue is a joke, foreshadowing, or back reference.  There is not an inch of fat on that script. It really should be studied in schools.

If ever you wanted further proof of the series’ power, I need only offer its continued ability to thrill. As I enjoy the movies so much, I have seen them all multiple times (in fact, they were the first films I saw in 2012) and yet I still get excited at the tinkly twinkly score that hints that something magical is about to occur.

I experienced the epitome of this euphoria these cult classics inspire on Saturday 30^th September 2014. Secret Cinema, an events company that shows famous movies within extensive recreations of the sets, had set up 1950s Hill Valley in a shopping centre car park complete with an in-character cast lip-synching and mirroring their counterparts in the first film. We were encouraged to dress in accordance with the era; I essentially went as The Fonz.

Just about hidden from view: the not-so-195s camera.

As we sat in the town square during the screening, the car chases happened around us , Doc zip-wired down from the clock tower, and we whooped at the debut of the DeLorean. That was all well and nice, but the moment at which I was convinced of the movie’s power, the instance I truly celebrated, was an old-fashioned demonstration of good triumphing over evil, brains defeating brawn, George smacking Biff.

The tension before he felled him was palpable. For one of the few times that evening, my eyes were firmly on the stage and not the frames I’d seen so many times before. To see the rivals stand-off in 3D reinforced the significance of what was at stake. It is perhaps this scene, more than any across the series, hammers home how a single split-second decision can change the outcome of your life.

When the punch came, we cheered. My friend besides me actually stood up and applauded. We got such a rush. It didn’t matter that this showdown wasn’t new to us – we were pumped.

And that’s the sign of an incredible movie – you can revisit it endlessly and still be moved.

Happy BTTF Day everyone.  Remember, your future hasn’t been written yet, so make it a good one!

A review of 'TOY STORY' (but not the one you're thinking of)

The year was 1997. I was but a boy who loved a certain hit animation film. It inspired me to make my acting début. That performance wasn't reviewed but if it had been, it would have definitely sounded a bit like this...

When reflecting on this production and the début of its young star, Brendan Way, the first word that springs to mind is ‘Nepotism’. The show is rife with it. For instance, said performer, apparently unsatisfied with simply playing the lead role (that of all-American hero, Sheriff Woody) also took it upon himself to direct and write the piece as well. Not only that, he cast his relatives and toys in the rest of the other roles. His parents have parts. His stuffed animals have parts. Even his brothers – including one who is barely a year old, have parts. This version of hit animation Toy Story then, if it wasn’t already obvious, is very much a family affair. This indulgent creative decision would not matter however if the play, an adaption of the picture book of the film, was any good. Alas the script (which is, a reliable source informs me, for no clear reason, written in large red font) reads like it has been, and indeed probably was, copied out verbatim. As for the acting, well, whoever said one should never work with animals or children was today never proven so right. The baby, for one, rarely looked focused and at some points might even have gone to sleep.

This of course brings us to our star. Having neglected to allow his ensemble the luxury of a rehearsal, he splits his stage time between reading his lines (it seems none of the company bothered to memorise a single syllable of their speech) and running the show. His first foray into the limelight as a result is hard to judge as he never is fully “on”. Saying that, and not taking into consideration his relative youth (he is only five after all), based on this display of so-called “talent” alone, I would advise he give up and go home. Luckily, given that this one-off took place in his lounge, he doesn’t have far to go. 2/5 stars. Would not recommend.

Jock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels

I received a text recently that said the following: Never trust a Scot.

Intriguing.

I should immediately hasten to explain that this missive didn't come completely out of the blue and in fact was a reply to a previous message. I don't tend to make a habit of receiving random vaguely-threatening bits of advice.

Anyway, this seemingly simple sentence has caused me no end of grief. Let me explain my problem with it. If a Scot tells you never to trust a Scot, then we potentially have a paradox.

If you follow his advice and do not trust it, then you have, inexplicably, trusted it.

If you do not follow his advice, it suggests you do not trust it, which means you have, once again, taken it to heart.

The only solution to this riddle then is to listen to no one ever again.

Then again, that advice once more brings us to a paradox...

If I say 'do not listen to anyone' then how can you follow this instruction without first hearing it from me?

If you decide I am the final person you will listen to before ignoring future speakers, then why take my word as superior to others?

If you take my statement to be inherently cynical, why not dismiss me too?

If - ah, all this thinking is giving me a headache. These paradoxes are more confusing than a mime in a house of mirrors. I'm afraid the juries still out on Scots, folks. If one approaches you - I don't know - just give them the advice and run away whilst they ponder it. That's what did I did. I haven't seen my phone since...

Radio (not so) Gaga.

This week, a journalist listened to a single programme of a Radio 4 sitcom she ended up disliking and wrote off, on the basis of this one half hour, not just the episode or the show, but the whole of audio comedy. Based on that logic, I should, because I hated her article, give up words.

I've not though. Obviously.

What I will give up on however is reading pieces with outrageous intentionally attention-seeking headlines that are clearly designed to provoke people into reading their contentious views, retweet them endlessly, and blog about why they're wrong whilst again linking people to the original arti-

Oh.

Well, I've failed there. Perhaps I should give up words...