prolific.org

In 1981 I was 18 years old and a big fan of Paul Newman. Fandom in those days wasn’t as concentrated as it is now. Apart from my best friend, with whom I went to see his movies, I didn’t know anyone else who was a fan and all I knew about the man was what I read in the printed press. I kept a scrap book with cuttings from newspapers and magazines and saved up to buy posters and picture books from a movie memorabilia shops in The Hague and London.

When I spotted a birthday card with the text ‘You have something in common with Paul Newman, Robert Redford and Marlon Brando’ on the front and ‘You’re all over 40 years old’ on the inside, I bought it and sent it to Newman. I had learned the name of his house, in Westport, Connecticut, and that’s where I sent my card. I didn’t expect anything of it.

A few weeks later I received a large envelope. In it was a signed still from his latest movie – Absence of Malice – and a letter, written by Newman’s secretary on ‘Paul Newman’ embossed stationery. I didn’t know at the time a lot of actors would send out autographed pictures to fans when written to. So for me, a – somewhat immature – girl living in a small village in the Dutch countryside, it was a wonderful surprise.

Learning of Paul Newman’s death today through Twitter made me dig out my old scrapbook to find the picture and letter. I’m not sure the autograph is Newman’s own, his secretary may have signed the photo. It doesn’t matter, really, and I’m way past the autograph-phase, but I’m glad I still have it, a reminder of the person I was back then.

Easter. Wanted to travel, but everywhere was too wet, too cold, too dear. And so I am rewatching Battlestar Galactica, Season 1, for the fourth or fifth time.

Starbuck: Now, if you were human, you’d be just about ready to start offering up some false information about the location of the nuke. Some tiny thing that might get you a reward and maybe spare you a few minutes of this. But then I keep forgetting, you’re not human. You’re a machine.
Leoben: I am more than you could ever imagine. I am god.

Battlestar Galactica is a weird show for me. I stopped watching it back in 2003 when the first season was in progress, finding it too dark for my mood back then. I like darkness a lot, but at the time I wasn’t up for it. When my head was in a better place, I started re-watching everything and now think it’s fantastic. I can’t wait for more and I am sad it’s ending, but happy it will end before it starts to suck. I’m also pleased a spin off, Caprica, will be made.

Starbuck: Permission to speak off the record, sir?
Tigh: Granted.
Starbuck: You’re a bastard.

The strange thing is I don’t like anybody in the show. ‘Like’ on lots of levels. I am not a fan of any of the actors, I don’t find anyone particularly attractive, I don’t care much for them as individual characters… they’re all bastards. But I love the show, love the ensemble, love how they interact, love the way everything looks and I love how smart the show is and how it touches on various political and religious topics.

Romo Lampkin: There is no greater ally, no force more powerful,
no enemy more resolved, than a son who chooses to step from his
father’s shadow.

If I had to pick a favourite on the show, it would probably be Romo
Lampkin, who only appears in a handful of episodes in Season 3. Played
by the always charming British actor Mark Shepard
(Firefly, Medium)  Romo’s presence managed to make me forget the utter
drudgery of the Starbuck/Anders relationship, if only because I kept
wondering why Shepard was putting on an Irish accent for the part.

Shepard himself is a fan of he series, he called it
‘the most political show on television’ in a Q&A session last year and practically begging Ron Moore, the show’s creator, for a part.
His love for the material shines through in his performance.

Baltar: Congratulations… You’re not Cylon. 100% human, and
very, very bright green as well… You couldn’t be more human if you
tried.

BSG in ways is like the West Wing, another show so dense I can watch it again and again and again and never get bored. What’s so good about Battlestar Galactica is that it’s not about the scifi, just like the West Wing wasn’t about the President. It’s about us. Which everybody who is watching the show already knows, but now you know too.

I’m bloody tired of those Taiko drums though.

To show their support for WGA writers currently on strike, members of Whedonesque.com, the Joss Whedon community weblog, delivered pizza to the picket lines at Universal, L.A. with flyers stating “You fed our minds, we’d like to return the favor.”

• how it started
• mission accomplished

The gesture was much appreciated by Whedon-related writers and others on scene:

“Seeing you guys with your pizzas and your poster… It was very touching…”,

“It was such a touching gesture and they were hungrily gobbled up.”,

“…your pizza was well-appreciated during our picket at gate 1.”

Plans for more pizza runs and other efforts to support the writers are currently underway. Some writers expressed surprise. In general, TV shows writing staff do not have close relationships with their fandoms, but the Buffy, Angel and Firelfy communities have always been as passionate about the actors as they are about the stories and their writers.

Editable banner images are available to post on your blog. Other fandoms are encouraged to join in.

Why strike? Brian K. Vaughan, executive story editor on ‘Lost’ explains.

Watching this week’s House I was surprised by the likeness between these two actors, though D.B. Sweeney looks very different from Stephen Rea in his (younger) IMDB profile picture.

TV- and filmmaker and creator of the Buffy, Angel and Firefly series Joss Whedon posts to our site, Whedonesque.com:

But also:

Whedonesque.com is a relatively new site to the Buffyverse, unlike places like The Bronze where Joss and the other Mutant Enemy writers generally post. Which is why we’re quite chuffed.

A while back I went to see James Marsters’ band Ghost of the Robot. I said at the time I was going to write about it, but after I posted the pictures, I struggled with a ‘review’. To be honest, I was too riled up, too angry to put it into words.

Today I finally got the chance to write down my feelings on the show and possibly on ‘actors who want to be rock musicians’.

I think I really do feel music is sacred, a concert is high mass and the stage is a holy place. And anyone who gets up on it and doesn’t give 100% commits sacrilege.

Why I should watch two films starring Nicole Kidman on the weekend when I have never felt any emotion watching her perform other than ‘meh’, I don’t know, but I did.

Cold Mountain. Nothing more than airport novel drivel — like Bridges of Madison bloody County. But beautifully filmed. Interesting cast of supporting actors (and thankfully no Meryl Streep) but I never felt more than a faint echo of passion between the two leads and certainly no reason why they should pine for each other as much as they do. As for Jude Law, eyes like a British Udo Kier, head shaped like a Roman bust. Brooding, distant, untouchable. Certainly a better face to see on the big screen than the wet blanket blandness of the Cruises and the Pitts.

I didn’t watch Lars von Trier’s Dogville, I had it on in the background. One step up from the so very annoying The Idiots. (I never saw Dancer in the Dark) Fascinating, a candidate for a longer, more concentrated viewing. I liked the one scene between kid and Kidman — the innocence of children’s always been overrated, how refreshing to see one evil adult in the making.

My throat feels like I’ve eaten the Sahara, I’ve had a headache since Christmas, my body’s been run over by a truck and I can just about make it from the bed to the couch and back again. From underneath my fleece blanket – shivering fiercely – I’ve been watching Traffik (Good, depressing. Who wants this R1 DVD? Let me know.), The Office Christmas special (Happy end, whodathunk? Brilliant.), Joan of Arcadia (surprisingly good, pity they went for ‘known’ actors in the adult leads), Cast Away (I don’t like Tom Hanks a whole lot. Round of applause for me for sitting through two hours of him!), The Fast Show (ah, good times), Goldfinger, Thunderball… Now can I get better please?

As I was raiding Waterstones for DVDs, I spotted a feature in this week’s Radio Times about Dirk Bogarde. One of my favourite actors of all time, once a matinee idol and later an art house favourite in stunning movies such as ‘Death in Venice’, ‘Gotterdammerung’, ‘The Servant’ and ‘The Nightporter’. Lived a closeted life all his life, a large part of which in France with his ‘partner’ (apparently a ‘marriage blanc’, Tony Forwood. There will be a two part documentary on his life which is said to be a little more revealing than his 8 part autobiography which – although beautifully written, never really gave me much insight into the man other than him being an intensely private man. Looking forward to that documentary (Christmas week). Here’s an excellent article on him written after his death in 1999.