Category Archives: Remember the 80s

Keeping the British End Up

I don’t want to add to the enormous pile of Maggie Thatcher related stuff clogging up the internet at, but this clip of Maggie (actually impressionist June Brown, who made a living as a Mrs T impressionist for many years) being a Bond girl in For Your Eyes Only is super-freaky:

(Ignore the comments at the bottom of the clip, by the way. Unless, of course, you wish to make yourself enraged for some some reason. They’re right about the prominent box of All Bran. Bond has classier things to plug these days, like manly watches and cars.)

James Bond is, of course, far too busy skinny dipping and having sexy times to talk to the PM. So he lets a parrot do it instead. Note that the film version of Thatcher preens her hair in that way in which ladies apparently do when receiving attention of a flirty nature. Imagine the real Margaret Thatcher doing that. Brr.

Note also that poor old Q gets the blame for Bond being too busy shagging to accept an official congratulations. And that Bond’s communication device (digital watch/phone hybrid. It probably does other stuff, like shoot lasers or balls of flame) looks pleasingly lo-tech. It looks like the kind of thing a schoolchild would wear on their wrist and would spend many happy hours getting the built in calculator to spell out things like ‘SHELLOIL’ or ‘BOOBLESS’. Ah, the 80s.

It’s just possible, in the world of the film, that James Bond paid Maggie a visit one evening, raised his eyebrow and asked if Dennis was in only. Only for Mrs T to tell him that her husband was asleep on the sofa and she would be well up for rewarding 007 for keeping the British end up/having a stiff upper lip.

Interestingly enough, the D.Craig (and P.Brosnan) Bond has a complex relationship with an older lady boss. But you wouldn’t catch Dame Judi being all taken in by Bond’s charms. And she would probably be able to tell the difference between a parrot’s voice and a man’s voice too.



They mostly come at night. Mostly.

So let’s talk about Newt.

I recently rewatched the first two Alien films after quite a few years. Living in internet nerd culture as I do, I felt deeply familiar with these movies despite my relative lack of that familiarity. Game over, man! Get away from her, you bitch! There are aspects of the films that have settled deeply into pop culture. And one of the things that everyone knows, so much so that it makes people defend Alien 3 (ugh), is that Newt is apparently really annoying.

So sitting down to watch, I was expecting the kid to be shrill, or whiny, or badly-acted. Any of the things that can happen to make children irritating in film. And I was completely surprised. She’s well-acted, she’s amusing, she’s about the only rational actor in the whole film and she’s certainly less whiny than Hudson, brilliantly played by Bill Paxton as a combat veteran so completely unmanned by the failure of firepower that all he can do is cry about how they’re all going to die this time, really guys, he means it.

If the Sulaco’s marines had taken Newt aside and asked her how she survived for weeks without getting caught, maybe they would have been luckier. All I can suppose is that the ‘nerd narrative’ on Newt was written by people who, when they saw Aliens, were little boys. And there’s not much that reads as annoying to little boys as little girls. Would the child be so disliked if it had been the brother who survived instead of the sister? I doubt it, even if the girl does have a scream that can shatter glass.

Also, considering how powerfully feminist Aliens is, I’m amazed nerds like it as much as they do. The finale is two women fighting over a little girl, the men rendered helpless. You don’t see a lot of that.

‘Once a week’s enough for any man!’* – Sex Education via the Carry On films

The Carry On films. Classic rainy Sunday viewing since forever. All PG rated family fun. I certainly saw enough of them when I was very young indeed.  I will occasionally re-watch some of the better ones (especially ‘Khyber’ and ‘Screaming*’) when they’re on ITV3. Actually, to be honest, I’ll re-watch some of the rubbish ones too, even though I’ll probably wince until my face hurts.

Growing up in the 80s, the media’s messages about sex were somewhat confused. You catch watch a Hollywood film, which implied it was a sort of secret sport with bragging rights and then cut to an ad break where a John Hurt voiceover would tell you that you could ‘die of ignorance’ or images of grey ice bergs. The Carry On films suggest that sex is can be dangerous too, but only if your wife, Joan Sims (or Hattie Jacques), finds out that you’ve been thinking about having it with a glamorous young lady who isn’t her.

There’s a lot of innuendo in the Carry Ons. Certainly far more thinking about shagging, than actual shagging. And of course, they didn’t show any actual rumpy-pumpy (I haven’t seen Carry On, Emmanuelle – yes, a parody of the kind of softcore film in which everybody is an ambassador of some kind – it was a certificate ‘15’ so there might have been some actual rudery there) – instead, sex would usually involve a man making a growling noise and advancing rapidly towards the lady. The scene would then cut to something unrelated or might stay in the same scene just to show a man hiding in a bush and saying something like, ‘Corrrrr!’

Oh and another important lesson from Carry On films and indeed lots of comedy is that bosoms are always hilarious. Like having a mini-bouncy castle with man luring abilities strapped to your chest at all times. Penises, however, are something which can only ever be alluded to, usually with a comedy sound effect to suggest their presence.

A lot of the characters in Carry-On are very interested sex (even though ones who didn’t seem to like it), but very few of them would actually get any. The act of ‘How’s Your Father’ was something that happened once in a while with a big old build-up***.  Like a bank holiday trip to the seaside, but with more gurning and less ice cream.

I’m surely someone’s probably done it, but I reckon there’s an interesting study to be made in the representation of British culture in the Carry On films. The franchise ran between the fifties and the seventies (and, yes, there was Carry on Columbus in 1992, but that was just…well, have you seen it?) a long enough period of take in a lot of social change. When it gets to the later period Carry Ons, it becomes obvious that the writers are from a previous generation. Hence the dismissal of hippies in Carry On Camping, feminists in Carry On Girls*** and unions in Carry On At Your Convenience. And the odd depiction of sex fits in with all of this. It sort of slips in. Round the back. *Cue jaunty tuba music.*

*This is Hattie Jacques’s lovely response to Kenneth Williams confessing that he was ‘once a weak man’ in Carry On Doctor.

*Carry on Screaming is ace. An affectionate Hammer Horror parody, which take place in a parallel universe in which Kenneth Williams is Peter Cushing.

** (Insert Sid James guffaw or Barbara Windsor giggle here).

***In which June Whitfield plays a formidable lady called ‘Mrs Prodworthy’.


Video Nasty: Playground nightmare fuel

When I was very young, a trip to the video shop was like a trip to Narnia. A somewhat dingy Narnia with no snow, no fauns and a strong smell of plastic, but an exciting place to visit all the same.

I’d peruse the children’s films, looking for some Disney or a compilation of Bugs Bunny cartoons. When I’d picked out something suitable and whichever parent I was with queued up to take it out (along with their own choice) I liked to sneak over into the grown-ups’ section and examine the covers of films that I’d never be allowed to watch.

The horror films had an appalling fascination. I’d look at the covers of films such as Children of the Corn (an artsy cover rather than an icky one, but I knew it involved decapitation and thanks to Alice in Wonderland and various junior history books the idea was very much in my mind. And nightmares.), Creepshow (a campy looking skeleton), Vamp (glamourous lips with vampire fangs) and Basket Case (Eww). I’d look at those, feel a bit weird and then go home and wash my brain out by going home, eating fishfingers and watching Disney’s Robin Hood for the fifth time.

Long before I ever saw any scary movies, I formed some clear ideas in my mind of what such films would be like based a mixture of the video covers, descriptions in film reviews in the newspapers and playground hearsay.

As I’ m sure was the case for a lot of children back in the 80s, my Primary School class contained several kids who liked to claim that they’d seen films on holidays to America that were a long way off being released in the UK. They’d claim to have seen ‘Jaws 6’, thus implying that we were so behind in our cinematic releases that ‘Jaws 5’ hadn’t even made it over yet. And what did the shark in ‘Jaws 6’ get up to? Horrible things, involving heads and guts and eyes. Things that made events in the original Jaws (which most of us hadn’t been allowed to watch yet) seem fluffy and innocent.

There was also one boy in my class who claimed to have seen all of the big horror films because his parents were happy to let him. I’m not sure if this was actually the case or if he’d just done the same as the rest of us and made up his own versions of these films. Certainly, his version of A Nightmare on Elm Street sounded far more frightening than the actual film possibly could be. His versions would go something along the lines of, ‘And then Freddie rips out this girl’s eyes and there’s ALL BLOOD and then he turns into a tongue and comes out of the phone and squashes someone’s guts and then he eats a dog and turns into a robot and eats another girl and there’s ALL BLOOD everywhere.’

Years later, when I saw A Nightmare on Elm Street, I wasn’t too surprised to find that nothing in it was quite as icky as it had seemed when it was described (and embellished) by an over-imaginative eight year old.  

There were some supposed grown-up films that kids were drawn to despite the ominous circled ‘18’ on the covers. In 1988, Robocop became a classic example of this. One lunchtime, one of my classmates proclaimed, ‘If I was Prime Minister, I’d have Robocop as my bodyguard.’

This prompted me to write a ‘satirical’ newspaper story describing the shock appointment of  Robocop as the PM’s personal security. Strangely, it didn’t really go on to explain why a ten year old lad from Hertfordshire came to be the Prime Minister. I think I was assuming that all of this was happening in a world in which the appointment of children to public office was fairly commonplace.

I don’t remember too much of what I wrote, aside from the quote from The Blob (a remake had recently been released) who in the world of the story was Chancellor of the Exchequer (his comment was something insightful along the lines of, ‘Blobba blobba blob blob’. The inventors of Mr Blobby must owe me a lot of money in royalties.) was the final sentence, which was as follows: ‘The Home Secretary Freddie Krueger was unavailable for comment, as he had to go and kill Kylie and Jason.’

I showed the story to our would-be PM and he told me to ‘Shut Up.’ So he must have liked it.