By and copyright Owen Quinn author of the Time Warriors and Zombie Blues
More Zombies, more trouble. Welcome to book 2 of Zombie Blues who give us their view on the world and life from behind undead eyes. This time round meet Diabetic Zombie, Racist Zombie, the Ice Queen and why is there a zombie with no teeth? Now on Amazon!
Diabetic Zombie
Holy shit, I found the cure for diabetes!!
Of course, it did involve getting turned into a living dead rotting zombie. As my comic book friends you met earlier will tell you this revelation is like finding the very first issue of Amazing Fantasy #5 featuring Spiderman’s first appearance and finding two of the pages stuck together.
Not good!
What has diabetes got to do with zombies? Easy. Mother Nature had a great plan but it has several flaws. Our bodies rot slowly except our teeth and gums. Those are our greatest weapon. It’s just a pity she doesn’t have enough cosmic power to ensure our entire bodies are sustained until her genocidal plan is carried to completion. It’s like putting a spanking super powered engine in an old banger. It’ll take you a while to get there but at least you can show off the engine.
There’s an equal irony as when I first got diagnosed with diabetes I was told that if untreated it would essentially rot me from the inside out. Believe it or not I immediately pictured myself as a zombie which makes me a trendsetter. This was in the days before zombies became popular thanks to that show from my friend from the last Zombie Blues wanted to be a part of. Now there was a case of be careful what you wish for. Of course, I’m not one to talk. I did picture my self as a diabetic zombie and here we are! What a bitch!
I was diagnosed at twenty five because I had a cut on my arse that wouldn’t heal. That was partially because I love to pick a scab so that would slow down any healing anyway. Don’t be turning your noses up at scab picking. There is not one of you out there that doesn’t love it. There’s just something about it that gives me a sense of pleasure. Knee scabs are the best; that tear of rough skin that makes your spine shiver as you pull it off just can’t be beaten. Well it’s not as if I pull the wings off butterflies is it?
Anyway, it was a lady doctor that day. I told her what was wrong and she asked me to drop the kecks. The macho part of me began opening my belt and sliding my jeans down with this image in my head she would take one look at me and start drooling. I could hear the Diet Coke advert theme play in my head as I then turned and pulled my boxers down. I could see the doctor bite her lower lip as she took in my toned buttocks. Her fingers played with her stethoscope in anticipation. In seconds we would be on her examination table, a scab the last thing on our minds. Yeah, my Perceptions Zombie friend hit the nail on the head. Little did I know diabetes can target your dick making a man’s greatest treasure as useful as a chocolate saucepan.
Of course the reality was she took one look, didn’t drool and just stated ‘you have diabetes’ before sitting back down at her desk. As I pulled my jeans back up I was slightly taken aback at the lack of reaction at the sight of my lower parts. Another part of me said she’d probably seen better hanging out a bird’s nest. Another part of me decided the doctor must not like men which was her loss.
But there it was. My life changed in one simple phrase.
The word diabetes which I associated with people who couldn’t eat chocolate and drink full sugar fizzy drinks was suddenly stamped across my head or in this case my arse.
God, never again would I be able to eat a bag of Maltesers or glug down a 2 litre of Pepsi. But it was only a scab on my arse. Surely I would have lost a lot of weight or been constantly drinking or sleeping all the time. I had been a champion kickboxer and fought all over the country in my twenties. Yeah, I had been a chubby kid in my teens and gained a lot of weight in my early twenties but I had taken care of that.
By Owen Quinn author of the Time Warriors and Zombie Blues
When Marvel announced that before the release of the final Guardians of the Galaxy movie, we would be getting a rather special present before the end. A 45 minute holiday special would air on the Disney channel with a dual purpose: sowing seeds for the new movie by introducing us to new crew members Kraglin Obfonteri (Sean Gunn) and Cosmo the space dog voiced by Maria Bakalova. We also learn that Manta is actually Peter Quill’s sister. They both share the same father Ego the Living Planet, a fact Manta only reveals to Drax at first.
Set after the events of Endgame, Quill is a mess, spending most of his time drinking and feeling spry for himself. He is lost without Gamora. His version was murdered by Thanos but the version restored in the events of endgame has no memories of her and Quill. She doesn’t love him because it never happened for her. She is a member of the Ravagers now. It’s Christmas which makes things worse for Quill. Manta and Drax hatch a plan to cheer Quill up by getting him the bst present ever for Christmas.
They are going to kidnap his hero, Kevin Bacon from Footloose.
Photos copyright Marvel
The mission goes according to plan with plenty of comedy with Drax and Manta at their best experiencing Christmas. They find Bacon and take him when Manta puts him under her spell. However they don’t get the reaction from Quill they were expecting when they present Kevin Bacon to him. A shocked Quill accuses them of human trafficking and releases Bacon from Manta’s spell.
When everything is explained the episode ends with a sing song as Kevin Bacon sings with a band and brings Christmas cheer before departing. So what’s my problem? As good as the episode is, at least up until the end,it failed its udienc completely.
Kevin Bacon is Quill’s hero. Footloose is an amazing movie. It played such a part in the first Guardians installment that the emding of this holiday special should have been a no brainer. I am sure I was not the only one thinking the same thing. When Quill meets Kevin Bacon there should have only been one ending….a bloody dance off!
You meet your hero and the one thing you want is hear their catch phrase or see them do something they are associated with. With Kevin Bacon literally in Quill’s lap, this was the perfect opportunity to give fans what they wanted to see. I thought part way through the song, Bacon and Quill would do a Footloose sequence but it never happened. For me such a great, fun packed story just threw away a chance that would never come again. I don’t even watch the holiday special on repeat because of Marvel’s misstep here. But then again, given the quality of movies and television series that have been produced over the last year mayb this was a glimpse of things to come with Marvel taking their eye off the ball. I can’t believe James Gunn let it slip either but it is what it is.
The Guardians holliday special remains as an almost perfect piece of Marvel with a twist of if only.
Presented by Owen Quinn author of the Time Warriors and Zombie Blues
After the bore fest of Godzilla vs Kong, here comes the boys again in the New Empire. This time we will get to see more of the world beneath us and Kong and Godzilla seem to be forced to work together to save everything. That scene alone in the trailer gets me excited. While the story of Monarch unfolds on the small screen in Legacy of Monsters, giving us Titans in drips and drabs, this movie looks like they have learned from the previous movie’s mistakes. Check out the trailer and let us know what you think.
Also released are two new graphic novels to tie in with the new movie.
By and copyright of Owen Quinn author of the Time Warriors and Zombie Blues
More Zombies, more trouble. Welcome to book 2 of Zombie Blues who give us their view on the world and life from behind undead eyes. This time round meet Diabetic Zombie, Racist Zombie, the Ice Queen and why is there a zombie with no teeth?
Now available on Amazon
The Question Zombie
I’ll never forget that dark day in June.
We had just entered rainy season but the weather had been mild up to the 22nd of that month. Suddenly the skies darkened and the rain began to fall. I stood blankly by the graveside with no more tears to cry. Inside I was numb with pained rage. My features were locked in a steely glare. Even now as a member of the undead, my expression has not changed. I didn’t think there could any pain worse than what I felt that day in June.
I was aware that the other mourners who had come to pay their respects to my brother were casting furtive glances at me. Inwardly I was grateful that the trickling rain ran down my cheeks in place of real tears. To them I was simply a grief stricken sister lost in the thralls of grief; a statuesque pillar of respectful mourning clad in black.
My head was a muse of clouds of grey that reduced the priest’s sermon to a muffled drone that I could not contemplate.
All I could do was watch the raindrops trickle down the white rose buds of the flower sprays. It looked like the roses were weeping for the loss of the man in the mahogany coffin. All I could do was focus on that image mesmerised by the tranquil beauty of it. The spiral spray with the layered roses was eloquent in design. As the rain fell, each and every rose caught the droplets. Their gentle shaped leaves cradled the moisture as it slowly trickled off the edge of the leaves to the coffin beneath it. It was like a hundred roses crying in harmony for the loss of a soul. The polished wooden surface allowed the droplets to slide gracefully off its edge to the ground below. The white against the dark wood with its myriad moving rain drops gave it an ethereal look like other Nature herself was mourning the loss of Yugala. But as we know that bitch mourns nothing but herself.
A voice whispered in my head sarcastically that at least something was shedding tears. My reserves were simply not there.
I barely registered the coffin being lowered and the ceremony ending with the priest shaking my hand as he gave his condolences. I think I acknowledged his graciousness and I know my husband Chuan gratefully shook the priest’s hand before slipping his an envelope with a gratuity. One by one the mourners dispersed like smoke on the breeze. I must have told Chuan to take the children back to the car as I found myself all alone staring at the grave.
My black overcoat was soaking and my hair was flattened to my head. Someone had put an umbrella over my head during the ceremony but that was gone now. Or had I ushered them away thoughtlessly? Anyone observing would have detected a slight tremble in my frame and assumed it was from the chill of the rain. It wasn’t. It was tropical heat still in this part of Thailand. You could stand shirtless in it and still not be cold. No, my trembling came from a burning desire for answers. I couldn’t understand it.
I was recently made aware of just how many movies and television shows the younger generation have never heard of, never mind seen. So to that end, we look back at some characters you really need to see before you kick the bucket.
There have been many incarnations and actors who have played the role of Lex Luthor, Superman’s arch enemy over the years but there is only one version that fans remember and has never, ever been matched for intensity and sheer raw screen presence.
In 1978 you really did believe a man could fly when actor Christopher Reeve took on the role of Superman and blew audiences away. At the start of the movie, we see a tribunal where three criminals are on trial for subverting Kryptonian society. General Zod, the mute Non and Ursa are sentenced by Superman’s father Jor El to the Phantom Zone. But with the success of the movie a sequel was inevitable and there was only one way to go.
Superman 2 is the best and most epic of the movies and that includes the Henry Cavill era. When Superman detonates a nuclear bomb in space that was intended to level Paris, the shockwave shatters the barrier between the Phantom Zone Zod and co were launched in freeing them in our solar system. How ironic that the son of their jailor is their saviour albeit accidentally.
General Zod here is played by Terence Stamp. With theIR distinctive black leather overall and trimmed beard and sallow features is the perfect Zod. His unique English accent is up there with Alan Rickman’s Hans Gruber. It stands out and Stamp oozes the character.
Zod is arrogant, ambitious and has little regard for life. When he observes Ursa rip a badge from an astronaut’s spacesuit, his death is a mild curiosty at best. As they explore their new found powers and head to Earth, Zod and his cohorts arrive in a small town where they literally tear it apart turning it into a war zone. He is sadistic with death a mere means to amuse him. This is best displayed when a military helicopter fires missiles at them. Their primitive firepower has no effect on them and with a cold arrogance he asks Ursa to blow them a kiss. Her super breath blows the chopper out of the sky killing those aboard but as new found gods, everyone on Earth are mere sheep to Zod. Their attack on the town is merely a way to gauge the strength of their new found subjects and how much of a threat they are. When it is clear that none of the townspeople have super powers, Zod is angry. The warrior within him demands battle and a constant need to prove his superiority. There can be only one fish in the pond and that’s Zod. He roars into a television news camera for someone to challenge him as he always wins. However as we know Clark is busy revealing he is Superman to Lois and giving up his powers to be with her forever. By the time he finds out about Zod, Clark is completely human.
As the newly self appointed ruler of the planet Earth, Zod turns the faces of Mount Rushmore into his own likeness as does Ursa and Non. They then storm the White House where he observes from the American flag that humans are accustomed to worshipping things that fly. Zod is smart enough to know when a false President is presented to him but learns of Superman’s existence thanks to another old foe of Superman’s, the opportunistic Lex Luthor.
So begins an epic battle on and above the streets of Metropolis when Clark regains his powers and takes the fight to Zod. Luthor leads the Kryptonians to the Daily Planet where they take Lois and the staff hostage in hopes of luring Superman to them. By destroying the son of their jailor, they will have their revenge and take their place as unchallenged rulers of Earth. When Superman arrives we get classic timeless lines that have been used in other versions of the Super family.
“General, would you care to step outside?” and “Kneel before Zod!”
Zod is a warrior and unafraid to fight but he is alo a master tactician and realises that the only way they can hurt Superman is to hurt the people of Earth learning and calculating with every fight.
Destruction reigns down on Metropolis as the four battle in midair. Debris falls to the streets below and Zod and Ursa toss a bus full of people at Superman. He is not as easy to defeat as they first thought. They will burn everything to the ground in order to kill the son of Jor El regardless of the casualties. They have no mercy or compassion and betray Luthor who is delighted when Superman turns up in a classic comedic moment.
“Suoerman, thank God. I mean, get him!”
Zod may be a great warrior but Superman realises the only way to defeat them is to take the fight away from the city. The final standoff is in the Fortress of Solitude where Zod believes with Lois hostage that he has won. He finds it tasteless, a sad replica of a planet long gone.Zod wants Superman to be his slave forever or all Earthlings will die. When Luthor tells Zod that Clark has a molecule chamber which will turn them into humans. Zod puts Superman inside and the machine powers up. But there has never been a look of surprise more explicit than when Zod forces Superman to his knees and offers his hand to sweat eternal loyalty by his new slave. Zod and the others have been turned into humans while Superman was safe. Zod’s pained gasps of surprise are priceless as is the look on his face as his bones are crushed and he is thrown into a precipice of ice. But in a deleted scene Zod and his cronies are arrested and removed from the Fortress by the police. So somewhere Zod, ursa and Non are sitting in prison scheming a way to get back their powers and seek revenge on Superman.
We really are unsure at times through the movie if Superman is going to win but the onscreen chemistry between Reeve and Stamp is electric. Zod is so stoic in his superiority and new found powers under the yellow sun that it in the end clouds his warrior spirit. Stamp brings Zod to life with a regal air that comes from every pore. He bounces off the others brilliantly especially Ursa with his withering glances and his I’m better than everyone else attitude. But there is no doubt that Superman 2 and the epic battle between General Zod and Superman is a must see.
For the ultimate classic super hero villain, keep your Thanos; Terence Stamp as General Zod is the man to watch.
This week we open in 2015 where after picking up a mysterious signal at her outpost a lone female, Doctor Barnes, tries to get through to the assistant director before we jump back to the present day where the death breath ice monster is hunting May, Shaw and the Randa siblings.
We leatn that Dr Barnes works for monarch and the signal she has picked up was previously found before the last emergence. The monsters are coming.,,again. G Day is almost upon us. Tim at this point is a troll in the basement largely ignored so how he came to be of such importance is another piece of the puzzle. But when he calls out the board for short sightedness they listen.
Last week I said Cate’s attitude was becoming boring and yet here she is the nice one. This episode centres on the relationship between May and Kentaro from their first meeting on his debut as an artist on the night his exhibition launches. Their anger at each other is just boring and given they are being hunted by a monster and forced to walk for miles in freezing temperatures, pointless, They risk death rather than work together? They split up. Kentaro going his own way as he believes he saw a structure from the sky as they were landing. It doesn’t make sense that they would go their separate ways and still come out alive from this wasteland. Kentaro has an Obi Wan ghost moment with his father before salvation arrives showing him his dad is indeed still alive. it’s all a bit out there but Shaw states that the presence of the Titans affects their surroundings in to all sorts of weird effects and phenomenon. May almost dies but I found it hard to care given how spiky she is attitude wise. It’s repetitive and adds nothing really to the story. Maybe it is part of the overall arc but we will see.
Why the monster hasn’t killed them is revealed as it follows heat and eats it. Shaw sets a trap to try and kill it but is serves as a distraction to escape. All four are reunited and Kentaro reveals what he has found Shaw gets a look at the portal in the ice and we know full well he knows what it is. Shaw’s computer is wrecked but when they land Tim greets them. They have been delivered to Monarch, the very people they are running from. Cate and Kentaro stare in horror given Tim tried to kidnap them in Tokyo.
Overall, an episode that is more a run around with little impact on the overall story. It felt like a serving of a platter of breadcrumbs with no taste and could do without the metaphysical oddness.
How did you get started in acting? Where did it all begin for you?
Harry Frost, the headteacher at my primary school in Market Bosworth was a keen drama enthusiast. He encouraged all of his students to perform in the plays which he would both write and direct. The long suffering parents would then have to sit and watch proudly.
I became addicted and worked my way through several local drama groups before finally getting a backstage job at the Haymarket theatre in Leicester.
A professional theatre which produced many pre-West End shows, the Haymarket was my introduction to a whole new way of viewing drama and acting in general.
How did the role of Butterball come about?
The director Robin Midgeley encouraged me to apply for drama school and I went from Leicester to London and a three year course at Mountview; a North London drama college.
Whilst there I was cast as ‘The Fool’ in King Lear. Clive Barker was in the audience for one of the performances and asked to meet me.
After an initial meeting he invited me to join his fringe theatre company ‘The Dog Company’ on graduation. His plays were fantastical and intelligent and I was quite overawed by the cast which included a young Douglas Bradley (Pinhead) and an even younger Oliver Parker (director of ‘Dorian Grey’, ‘St Trinians’ and many other films.
After a couple of years the company disbanded as we all needed to earn some money and fringe rarely pays. I didn’t see Clive for a year or two and rang him to see how he was getting on.
The timing was perfect as he a couple of screenplays he had written had been made into movies but rather unsuccesfully and he had just persuaded the producers to let him write and direct the next project which was ‘Hellraiser’. As he asked me over the phone if i would be interested in being a monster.
Were you a fan of Clive Barker’s work?
A huge fan. Even in his early work you could tell that he was someone with a great insight into the human condition. His love of William Blake and knowledge of the classics generally, mixed with a mind that was capable of enormous leaps of imagination was addictive.
How did they initially describe the character to you?
A high priest of Hell. Butterball was the groups torturer, hence his belt of blood encrusted surgical instruments. Underneath the dark glasses he had removed his own eyeballs and gained great pleasure from fondling his innards through the gash in his stomach.
How complicated was the costume? What sort of time scale did it take to get you kitted up?
Jane Wildgoose’s costumes were a mixture of leather and fabric. skin tight around the arms mine then included a fibreglass frame which hang on my shoulders and which was home to a naked prosthetic stomach and deep gash which was filled with blood on each take to allow it to drip.
I had a skirt with material that glistened and Jesus sandals which i don’t think are ever visible.
The costume took around 45 minutes to get on.
For the actual mask, how did they go about creating that for you? Was it a head mould?
We were all invited to the home of SFX prosthtic company ‘Image Animation’ at Pinewood Studios to have a life mask cast. This meant having a couple of straws placed up the nose to allow you to breath and then the whole head covered in a substance which gradually set solid.
Once cut out they made a model of our heads on which they could sculpt their creations.
A few weeks later we went back to have the prosthetics fitted and to try out the masks and costumes in a screen test.
How much vision had you got when in complete costume?
None. Because of the sewn shut eyes in the characters past there were no eye holes and I was blind throughout the shoot which caused a few challenges especially early on. There were also no ear holes and I had a set of false dentures glued on top of my own teeth so communication was difficult.
As part of the Cenobite group, how did you try and make him stand out when on screen with the rest?
Because the makeups were so extraordinary Clive realised early on from the rushes that the less we did the more powerful the creatures became. So the direction was usually ‘less is best’. We did find a few character traits we could add such Nick”s chattering teeth and my licking my lips whilst playing with my innards. Sadly the latter was one of the few things the censor drew the line at. The 80’s were a time of increased creative freedom in the UK and we benefitted from being allowed to go much further than horror cinema had been before, but fondling ones intestines crossed the line.
There seems to be a group fluidity between the Cenobites when they move as a group. Am I wrong in that or did you guys work it out between you to accommodate the different costumes?
The costumes certainly created a style of movement. The leather was thick and ungiving but that lead to a kind of Royal glide which we all enveloped and seemed fitting to their postions.
It also resembled the type of movement Doug and I used in Clive’s play Paradise Street years before so may well have been influenced by that.
Are you surprised at his continuing appeal?
Flattered at Butterball’s longevity. We celebrated 25 years recently and if you had told me that when we filmed it I would have been incredulous. No surprise at Clive’s appeal though in fact a little disappointed that he isn’t more widely respected especially in Hollywood.
What for you defines Hellraiser?
Being blind, deaf and dumb was an experience that takes great courage and patience and an inner peace, none of which I possess. So personally I remember the filming process with a mixture of claustrophobia and terror. The end results however more than justify the pain.
How would you rate each movie?
Pass. Too close to them to be objective.
You appeared in another Clive Barker movie, Nightbreed, a great favourite of mine as Ohnaka. This time round there wasn’t as much prosthetics needed. Does being a normal looking human in a horror movie make you strive to make your character stand out among the monsters?
Normally I would say yes but as Nightbreed was packed full of creatures (the most individual monsters of any movie) it actually was in my favour that Ohnaka seemed so human.
It also helped to gain the audiences sympathies which was crucial to his storyline.
It made for a much happier experience on set being able to see and talk to the cast and crew. Also not having to get up at 3am to drive to Pinewood because of hours of makeup meant I was far happier. The tattoos took a while to apply but apart from them my only prosthetics were a pair of nipples.
Of all you appearances in these, what’s been the stand out moment for you?
Watching myself explode and meeting one of my heroes David Cronenberg.
What sums up Clive’s work for you?
Genius…yet to be fully discovered, but when he is expect some extraordinary movies.
How did you become involved in Books of Blood?
When we were in the ‘Dog Company’ Clive was just starting to write ‘The Books of Blood’.
At the launch party for their publication he admitted that the first character in the first story of the first book, Simon McNeal was based around me. The boy who has all the rest of the stories written into his flesh.
A few years ago I heard that they were about to start filming ‘Books of Blood’ in Edinburgh so contacted the production company and casting director. There was no response so I emailed Clive and the next day I was offered the role of Derek. sadly I was 30 years too old to play Simon but it was fascinating watching Jonas Armstrong play me. I decided not to tell him as he had enough on his plate. In fact I didn’t tell any of the cast of my previous film roles.
What can you tell us about the 4th Reich movie you’re involved in. How hard is it to make zombies different?
It has gone very quiet. I was asked to play Underscarfuhrer Kraus back in 2009 since then the cast list has grown and it received a green light in 2012 but then nothing.
I can tell you that my character escapes becoming a zombie which is a shame. I’d love to play a Zombie. They were filming ‘World War Z’ in Glasgow when I was working there and the temptation to gatecrash was overwhelming.
You also have a long and distinguished theatre career for which you’ve won awards. Aside from audience presence, what for you as an actor are the main differences between theatre and movies? Does theatre give you a more immediate buzz?
Absolutely. Three weeks of rehearsal in theatre. Three minutes in film. Immediate audience reaction versus none Long term legacy in films. None in theatre.
What are you working on at the moment?
Just finished voicing ‘Commander Elgin’ for an animated feature called ‘The 11th hour’. I played the lead role of a depressed bereaved man in a short film called ‘Riley’ and am currently touring the world promoting the ‘Cabal Cut’ of ‘Nightbreed’ which is due out later this year.
Where can people find out more about you and your career?
My twitter is @simonbamford or you can catch up at imdb.
5 Nov 2023, 15:33
Robert
Thanks I will get reading these while getting a coffee when I get home.
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Robert
Walked the pregnant wife up Belfast zoo think near killed her
Found a email that contained the interview we did with Simon bamford. I forwarded on to you
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Just reading it. Do u want me to put it on the site
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Robert
That would be so cool man. If I find more of the interviews I will forward them onto you.
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Any photos for it
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Robert
i will see what ican find on the email.
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Any photos send them over whatsapp. Easier 07384671987
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Robert
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Mon 21:33
You sent
I need bio about you including details of space rhino
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Robert
No worries. I will write one up for you
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Mon 21:54
Robert
Robert Nesbitt is a father of three with one more on her way to be part of my mad gang. I am the writer and creator for an upcoming graphic novel known as RhynX coming 2024. I am also currently under taking a screenplay writing course and furthering my eduction as I push myself to achieve my dream. I love retro gaming, comics and movies. Also I am a collector of toys from the 80’s and early 90’s.
By Owen Quinn author of the Time Warriors and Zombie Blues
I fell in love with the Walking Dead from the very first episode and it wasn’t long before I realised nobody is guaranteed to get to the following episode. One case in point is the death of Amy played by Emma Bell. What caught me from the start of this show was that I felt sorry for the zombies especially the one Rick met in the opening episode which has been somehow cut in half. (That zombie’s origin was shown in a mini episode to compliment the new season). This was once a woman living her life and now crawled the world as this abomination.
This was different; this was new and there was no better example of this in the death of Amy. She was the sister of Andrea (Laurie Holden) and seemed destined to be a series regular. However in episode four the camp was attacked by a zombie horde and Amy was bitten. What really made this work for me was the reactions of young actor Chandler Riggs who played Rick’s son, Carl. As a young kid, his terrified screams chilled me to the bone as the dead attacked as he clung to his mother.
Amy dies in Andrea’s arms and it is the first time we see a corpse reanimating. But it is how the director shot it that made the horror even more heartbreaking. When Amy begins to reanimate it is as if she is waking from a sleep. Andrea speaks to her and Amy looks to her sister. Slowly she lifts a hand and touches her hair. It is as if Amy recognises Andrea and is reaching out to comfort her. For a moment you swear Amy is going to speak. Her hand is almost stroking Andrea’s hair as her mouth moves. Amy struggles to sit up, her mannerism not yet that of an aggressive zombie. She seems almost confused until her grip tightens on Andrea’s hair and it is clear she is trying to bite her. Yet you cannot help but get the feeling that it is a younger sibling trying to find comfort and reassurance from her big sister in all this horror. Even up to the famous guttural snarls that end with a bullet through the head, Amy seems to be struggling to talk to her sister one last time. It makes things even more tragic when Andrea has to kill her sister.
This is where the Walking Dead differed from every other show. The tragedy of becoming one of the undead is looked at and played out to heighten the suffering of the main cast as they lose loved ones. Amy’s death remains part of the reason the show resonated with viewers and set them on the path as a phenomenon.
I was recently made aware of just how many movies and television shows the younger generation have never heard of, never mind seen. So to that end, we look back at some characters you really need to see before you kick the bucket.
1990 saw the release of the movie adaption of Stephen King’s novel Misery starring James Caan and Kathy Bates.
The plot sees famous author Paul Sheldon played by Caan crashing in deep snow having finished his new novel. He is famopus for the Misery series but tired of the character he has killed her off as he wants to expand to other stories. He is rescued by one Annie Wilkes who as it turns out is Sheldon’s biggest fan. However this is far from the lucky happenstance it appears to be as Sheldon discovers that Annie has a darker side than first appears.
On paper Annie is a dark presence and Kathy Bates took the role on for the big screen winning an Oscar for her performance. Rightly so as she is magnetic. Jason had his machete and Freddy had his five fingered glove claw but the most terrifying person that year was Annie welding a sledge hammer.
Annie lives in the countryside near the town of Silver Creek and at first, realising ahe had her favourite author in her home albeit bed ridden, is a genuine thrill for her. She gushes all over Sheldon displaying her fandom genes. She even introduces him to her pet pig which she named Misery of course. She seems harmless enough and seems to have a knowledge of medication due to his injuries. She tells him she has made calls to the hospital and agent and spoken to the top orthopedic surgeon. He allegedly told her that as long as there is no infection she could keep him there until the snows clear and the roads are accessible again. While there she bought the final book in the Misery series, Misery’s Child. It is clear that she is besotted with Sheldon and Misery. Annie tells him that there are two perfect things in the world, one of which is the Misery’s Child book and the Sistine Chapel. She says he is a great poet. As time passes she opens up to him about her failed marriage something she is not a fan of, and how reading Misery on the night shift as a nurse in the hospital got her through these times.
Even her language is bizarre. She never swears and uses phrases like cock a doodie.
But when she reaches the end of Misery’s Child, Annie freaks out. She is furious at him for killing the character off and beats his damaged legs with the book. Coldly and without emotion she informs him she never called anyone and no one is coming for him. If she dies so does he. Such is her twisted personality, she is nice as pie the following morning when she finds him lying on the floor.
But she has a plan. Forcing him to burn his new non Misery novel, she demands he bring Misery back. Supplied with a typewriter and paper, Sheldon is forced to write for his life to appease his number one fan. When he tells her the paper is the wrong type because it smudges, she unleashes another furious attack on him.
At the prospect of a new Misery book being written in her home, Annie returns to her friendly self but Sheldon is sneaking out of his room and discovers the threat is worse than he thought. Annie is baby killer who was charged over the deaths of several infants. She is a complete fantasist who keeps it all in a scrapbook to read back over at her leisure. The trial collapsed due to lack of evidence but it is clear that she was guilty. Her ego is fragile but Sheldon plies her with compliments to gain her favour and put her off guard.
Annie is clearly disturbed and suffers from depression triggered by the rain. She admits she once loved the writer but now loves him as a person. She admits she knows he doesn’t love her and that he will never know the pain of unrequited love. She is not a movie star type so he would not look at her twice. She flashes a gun admitting she thinks about using it sometimes on herself. She says she might put bullets in it leaving Sheldon with no illusion he is running out of time.
But Sheldon underestimates her attention to detail indicating she has OCD. She notices one of penguins is facing the wrong direction and that he has been out of his room. To prevent it from happening again and to ensure the book is finished, comes one of the most horrible scenes in movie history. This is the one that cemented Misery’s place in the audience’s minds and still makes us wince to this day.
Bates is so matter of fact about what she is about to do as she gives her speech. It is as if this is the most normal thing in the world and necessary to write the book. She gives him a history lesson on hobbling, something done to thieves in the Kimberley diamond mines. If you smashed their ankles they could still work but not be able to steal and run. You know what is coming and the tension makes everyone cringe even before the hammer swings. Director Rob Reiner does not hold back as Annie swings and both ankles twist inhumanly leaving the strapped down Caan screaming in agony. Once done the camera goes to close up on Annie. It is almost as if she has just had an orgasm as she breathes, “God,I love you.”
He is desperate to escape especially when Annie murders the local Sheriff who discovers her secret. She guns him down and is about to commit murder suicide on her and Sheldon. He desperately pleads with her to let him finish the book so at least the world will have Misery back after they’re gone. But he turns the tables when he burns the book in front of her robbing her of reading it. They fight and Sheldon stuffs burnt paper in her mouth before battering her to death with his typewriter. However Sheldon is forever haunted by the ghost of Annie Wilkes.
Mental illness is more prevalent these days than ever before and with Annie any sympathy you may have after the gun scene is lost when you remember she is a baby killer. Her behaviour stems back to her childhood as she felt cheated by the old classic serials where each epsiode ended with the hero dying then at the start of the following one showed them surviving. Annie hated the fakeness and screamed it out in the middle of the cinema. Does her equating Liberace to romance mean her concept of love was determined by something when she was younger? Did she enter marriage on a fairytale notion of how it would be?
She used a position of love and trust to murder and went off the grid when the trial collapsed so never received any treatment or help. We never learned why her marriage ended so it may be the charges ended it. If it wasn’t that then maybe Annie was displaying symptoms of irrational behaviour like her temper tantrums so her husband left. Having moved to the outskirts of Silver Creek, Annie’s isolation would only have amplified her thought processes making something like Misery her reason to live. You see it all the time with obsessed fans who spend every minute watching their favourite shows and spending money that they don’t have on memorabilia. They don’t have healthy relationships and the boundaries between fact and fiction erode away to nothing. I once remeber going to a Star Trek convention where a fan stood up and said he lived and breathed the show every day. I’ve seen people take on the very body language and traits of a fictional character.
Annie Wilkes is a timeless lesson that fantasy has its place but should never take the place of people or love. While real life can sometimes send us there, we must fight to keep it separate.
An original Doctor Who sstory by Owen Quinn author
Photo copyright Owen Quinn and BBC
The Doctor closed his eyes as the Tardis began its familiar materialisation procedure. He shut the wheezing, groaning crescendo from his senses, letting the temporal vibrations wash through him. He had heard her a million times before but had never taken the time to try and feel how she felt when the time machine slipped through the depth of the time vortex, choosing its destination and pushing though into a new reality like a newborn coming into the world. Ever since he’d met the Tardis’ soul in the body of Idris out there in House’s domain, the Doctor had seen her in a different light. At times, he could still see her out of the corner of his eye, flitting round the console room like a fairy at the bottom of a garden in that golden trial like a billion gold stars at the end of a rainbow.
He took his hands off the console and raised his bowed head in an instant as if he’d been electrocuted. He frowned as his eyes darted over the place as he seemed like a kid that had just been caught dipping his finger in the strawberry jam after he’d handled worms.
“We’ve never done that before. I’m so sorry, old girl,” he said out loud. “All these centuries and we’ve never been to the end of the rainbow.” His voice was tinged with disbelieving regret.
“Still, maybe that’s a good thing. Imagine what the leprechauns would say if we spilt their pot of gold. They’re such fussy people; I never had that trouble with the Oompa Loompas.” He shook away thoughts of complaining short people as he raced around the console, fingers dancing like seasoned ballerinas. No, he decided, holding his hands in the air. Let’s live a little. Bounding to the Tardis doors, the Doctor took a deep breath, wishing for a second that he had gone to pick up Amy and Rory. It seemed like an eternity since he’d seen either them or River Song but then, in the life of a Time Lord, it could well have been an eternity. A small grin played about his face. Timey, wimey, spacey, wacey… oh, I really need a new phrase.
A damp chill clamped to his skin the minute he stepped outside, the beginnings of a thin mist forming in the early autumn night air. He licked the mist and smacked his lips.
“Hmm, five fifteen in the afternoon, November 23rd 1963, not a bad year,” he muttered wishing he’d worn his Stetson and that super scarf he used to sport back in the day. Super scarves were cool, but now bowties were even cooler, he thought wryly, spinning slowly on his heel to look around. He made a mild cooing sound of delight as he saw the familiar sight of a hospital. There’s bound to be a shop he almost clapped and it would still be open. As thoughts of jelly babies and brandy balls swirled in his head, he began rifling through his pockets and found some pound coins. With an enthusiastic rub of his hands, he set off, doffing an imaginary hat to a passing ambulance. He stopped, briefly watching it disappear, wondering if they needed his help. Thoughts of Rory came to him, so he made a mental note to go collect them when he had his bag of sweets. He went to walk when a shape in the mist caught his eye. It looked like a Rutan. It seemed to twist and twirl upwards and it was then something caught his eye.
In the greying veiled world of fog he could see a solitary light above him. Despite the darkness and shrouding fog, the light seemed almost smeared like a jaundice smudge. It reminded the Doctor of a single child staring into the darkness pleading for help. The Doctor stood staring at it for a few seconds oblivious to everything else. It called to him, sending out waves that it was calling to him. He threw the silhouetted Tardis a withering look.
“You’ve done it again, sexy,” he chided sweetly. Drawn like the proverbial moth, the Doctor set off towards it.
When he discovered that not only was there no shop but his pound coins were useless, sometimes the time zones blurred into one for him, making him forget that each had their own particular means and protocols, he grumped. He worked out where the light he had seen was coming from and slipped through the warren corridors like a ghost on a mission. The Doctor waved his psychic paper to a ward sister who stood blocking his way like a Zygon in a Skaresen nursery. She gave him a Sil like glare but melted upon reading his paper.
“You seem very young for a Sir,” she purred uncertainly, grey eyes flicking from the paper to meet his. He gave her his most disarming smile.
“Appearances can be deceiving Matron but we are making huge bounds in the medical world,” he assured her. Leaning forward, he picked his paper from her hands and grinned. “And before you know it, we’ll even have a little shop at the front as you come in. Medicine is more than needles and popping pills after all. Think of all those patients lying bored senseless all day and dreaming of sucking on a strawberry bonbon.” He gave her a stern look.
“Matron Billings, it will change the face of medicine as we know it. Trust me, I’m the Doctor.” He took her hand and kissed the back of it gallantly with a playful wink. “Carry on matron.”
Blushing, she went on her way.
The Doctor made his way down the corridor, artificial lighting making his eyes hurt. He disliked artificial lights; it reminded him of the Capitol on Gallifrey. He was five floors up and he had worked out in ten seconds exactly where the light was coming from. He paused for a moment, calculating his approach through every possible obstacle or outcome. Even to the Time Lord brain, hospital corridors could seem like a maze, the monotony, the sterility, the sameness, all reasons that contributed to his leaving his homeworld. He rarely mentioned it these days. He never needed to. There were bigger issues now. He whipped out his sonic screwdriver, its familiar ping the only sound as he waved it like some great wizard weaving magic. Hospitals were places where even time was distorted. Minutes seemed like hours and days were robbed of their very names. Wards were battlegrounds that saw the strong fight to return to their own lives while others lost the struggle. The Doctor could feel death sliding along the walls like an oil slick seeking his next victim. He checked the shadows; not Vashta Nerada then. He was fresh out of chicken legs anyway. The Doctor then looked sideways to a blue door, the green from the tip of his sonic reflecting in his narrowed eyes. Flicking it off he pushed the door opened and strode in like he owned the place. An elderly woman of around seventy looked at him in puzzlement. He stood there beaming, sonic screwdriver hidden up his sleeve as eyes shot round the room. She stared at him, pulling her neck high nightie even tighter around her neck not knowing what to expect. There it was. The light source he had seen from the grounds; the reason the Tardis had brought him here.
A lit candle. But why?
“Hello, don’t mind me. Carry on what you were doing!” he said cheerfully as he moved cross the room towards the simple candle on the window sill. As deftly as the best magician on the planet, his sonic reappeared, whirring again as he waved it over the candle. It was about six inches high sitting on a small circular glass plate, caked with melted wax in little mountain ranges and emitting a waxy smell. He could see beads of condensation on the window catching the flickering yellow flame and casting its reflection across the glass like a hundred tiny candles straining at the night. He flicked his sonic again and took in the readings, frowning at the result. He turned when the old lady made an exaggerated clearing of her throat. She had white curly hair, piercing green eyes that reminded him of ones he had when he was in his sixth incarnation and a demanding look on her face that made him squirm.
“You’re not a Plasmavore then,” he muttered before slipping cross legged into the chair by her bed. He extended his hand and she took it awkwardly. “Hello, I’m the Doctor, you’re looking well, Mrs….” He dipped to the side to look at her chart. “Bush.” The name dropped from his mouth like a stone as he looked at her. She stared back expectantly. The Doctor stared at her, words locked in his throat.
“I knew it,” she croaked. “I knew you’d come in my last hours.” She reached a wrinkled hand for him and he moved forward to take it, more to reassure himself this was real and not some trick of an Eternal or the Celestial Toymaker. He continued to stare at her, unable to find the words.
“Did you regenerate without a tongue? But at least you don’t have to drink any carrot juice with that waistline,” she teased. He bowed his head, almost in shame.
“Hello Mel. I’m sorry, but how? It’s 1963.” He could still see the curly red haired computer genius that had travelled with his sixth incarnation with her hyer-personality and determination to get his rather ample waisted persona fit and healthy. Funny enough he had never drank carrot juice since. Then again, it would probably have taken a couple of weeks stranded in a jungle to shift the pounds in those days.
Mel squeezed his hand and sighed as if a lifetime of stress had just been lifted from her. “Ever hear of the Weeping Angels?” she asked. His eyes flared at her with horror and disgust.
“They got you,” he said simply.
She nodded in answer, hiding the regret and sorrow of the decades. “It was after I left you. I got back to Earth and settled back into life, but one night I found myself being chased by a stone statue. At first I thought I was imaging things. It didn’t seem normal for the things that happened to us in the Tardis would ever follow me back home, but they did. I found myself alone back in the past. I had to survive on my own, using my skills without becoming obvious.”
“I’m so sorry Mel. I didn’t know. I checked on all my companions a couple of years back when things were not good with me and you were fine. I’m so sorry.”
She tried to hold back a vengeful glare. She pulled her hand away, “I thought you would come back and rescue me. There was no UNIT for me to call, but I did work for Winston during the Second World War. I was his favourite code cracker but could I get him to stop those cigars?” She laughed at the memory.
“And before you ask, I was there when he used those Daleks as a new weapon. He kept me a secret from you because of the timelines at my request. I assumed you had a good reason for not coming for me so I thought it best not to upset history.”
The Doctor leaned forward fixing her with his eyes: “You always were the clever one, at times more clever than me. The Angels consume their victim’s future lives so they have to live their remaining lives in the past. Not even the Tardis can bring them back. I am so sorry.”
“I knew it. I knew you wouldn’t just abandon me, but then again I felt like you did.”
“I never knew Mel. But then that’s me, I suppose. I check once and think that’s it. Everyone’s sorted; life after the Tardis is great. Were you happy?”
She waved away his concern breaking into a burst of excitable energy before suddenly deflating again. She pulled at her blanket, her emotions stirring.
“I made do,” she admitted, “no point in filling you full of waffle, not at my age. I resented you for not finding me. I was so tempted to grab you in Churchill’s war room and run back into the Tardis.” She fixed him with a stare filled with regret.
“I did meet someone but he was killed in the Blitz. I never had children. I always wanted children. There was a group called Torchwood who were set against you.”
“I know. I met them, It didn’t end well… for anyone.”
“Well, I kept removing any talk or reports of you from any archives. Churchill agreed. It was better they knew as little about you as possible.”
“Thank you,” the Doctor muttered sincerely as he held her hand tightly.
“Watch the circulation Doctor; it’s not as good as it was. Not that I expect it to be at ninety six.”
“You’re ninety six!” he cried disbelievingly. “I’d swear you were late sixties at most.” Mel chuckled.
“I told you to drink carrot juice. We can’t all regenerate when the going gets tough.”
“But what did you mean ‘your last hours’?” he asked, tucking her blanket in just to do something as guilt overran him.
She patted his hand feeling how young it was beneath her wrinkled skin.
“The old ticker is on its way out. I won’t last til the morning, apparently,” she explained. “But that’s fine. You’re here to see me on my way.”
“Where there’s life…” The Doctor encouraged her.
“You were my life, Doctor. Even when you were gone and I fell foul for those bloody angels, you were still my life. I fought the good fight all the way in honour of you.”
He held her hand and brought it to his forehead. She could see him welling up, something that she never expected to see. She could hardly imagine her Doctor being so emotional.
“Tears, Doctor? The older you get, the softer you get,” she commented. “It seems that applies to Time Lords too.” She took her hand back and wiped a tear from his cheek with her thumb.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated.
“Stop apologising,” she chastised, giving him a slight slap on the arm. “The good times out-weighed the regret and resentment, believe me.”
A wave of fatigue came over her, making her lay back against her pillow. Concerned, the Doctor waved his sonic over her and checked the readings. Her breathing was becoming shallower and he fluffed her pillow, making her comfortable. Mel managed a smile at him.
“I can still see you in there no matter how many times you change your face, you know.”
“Only those I let into my hearts have ever said that. I never did thank you Mel for trying to help me. You were a calming force for me back then. Although I never really cared for all that exercise stuff; Time Lords aren’t made for it. There has never been a track suit on Gallifrey never mind a pair of shorts.” Her laughter made him smile.
“You have a beautiful eyes,” she sighed. “I never really noticed that before. They light up when you smile.”
“You were always beautiful. Even more beautiful than a Vervoid or the Rani, especially when she impersonated you.” He cocked his head as he rested his elbows on the edge of her bed. He was barely containing his emotion and hoped the guilt consuming him wasn’t evident.
“Why the candle?” he asked. “Is it religious?”
She blinked at him.
“No,” she said simply, “there’s a tradition that if you put a light in a window it will draw lost souls home once more. So I figured since I was lost, it would draw me to you one last time.”
“You lit it for me?” His voice almost cracked, but he held it together.
She asked for a sip of water which he gave her gratefully. With a smile, her old eyes glanced at the candle.
“It’s been lit for eleven days,” she admitted. “I had never given up, even when the doctors told me the bad news; although ninety six years can hardly be called a bad run. My will is set and everything has been arranged and paid for.”
“Ninety six; pretty good for a human,” the Doctor nodded. He settled in his chair. “It worked Mel. Your candle brought me to you in your hour of need. And I won’t leave your side, I promise.” She blinked back tears.
“Promise me one thing Doctor; promise me you’ll always fight things like the Angels. Fight the good fight, no matter who you lose or what comes to test you. Don’t let them take any more like me.”
“Easy words Mel, but I will try.” She gripped his hand tightly.
“No!” she snapped. “You’ll do it. You are so lucky to live life again and again but we get only one shot. You will never know how hard it was watching the Tardis disappear from Churchill’s chambers that night, but I resisted.” She bit her lower lip as she felt her life ebbing away. “You are the Doctor, you always will be. You give people like me hope. My time with you was all I had when the Angels took me so please don’t ever give up or look back. Continue the fight, not only in my name but for all the others who’ve travelled in that beautiful, big, blue magic box. I’m not the first and I won’t be the last but I’ll live on in the hearts of a Time Lord.”
He stroked her hair sadly, nodding, the words caught in his throat. She put a frail hand on his cheek where he held it to his skin as if trying to give her some of his regenerative energy.
“What more could I ask for Doctor? What more could I need?”
The Doctor nodded. “You will forever be here.” He touched the left hand side of his chest, “and here.” He touched the right.
“I will not leave until the last grains of the sands of your time run out.” He brushed a stray wisp of hair from her fringe drinking in every moment of her. “Now sleep Melanie Bush. Move on, knowing the candle worked and brought this lost soul back to you. And know I will forever be proud to have known you and to call you friend.”
He sat there not moving, struggling to fight the slow pass of time. Mel slept peacefully and he checked her over, knowing the end was near. When she took her final breath, he offered a Tibetan prayer for her soul and gently kissed her forehead. He stood, limbs stiff, and turned to the candle. He stared at the flame for a few seconds. He had never watched death like this, not up close and personal. He watched the morning dew run down the window and, like the morning, was weeping for his lost friend. He vowed to Mel that he would fight on, cutting the head of evil as it rose, no matter where it was and he would protect his friends with his life, even the ones he hadn’t met yet. The Doctor wiped tears from his eyes before using his thumb to extinguish the flame. He walked to the door before giving Mel one final look. He lifted the melted candle deciding he had a nice spot for it in the Tardis. He whispered goodbye before fetching the nurse.
He stood by the Tardis door. He ran his hand down her panel.
“Thank you old girl,” he muttered. His breath fogged on the dawn air. His looked back at her room five floors up and smiled. Time to honour her and make sure nothing like that ever happened again.
The Time Warriors and Beyond 
