Golden Sunsets Redux - 60 Years of Memories - Part 16 - 1982

"Know you now of days long past. The time when the world was young. When sorcery thrived and wild adventure was forever in the offering..."

1982:

The Trivia:

• Jackie Chan has always been famous for pushing himself to the limit, but for his 1982 film "Dragon Lord" he went just that little bit further. For a single sequence - a shuttlecock match based on the traditional Chinese game jianzi - Chan reportedly demanded perfection. The scene was a full seven‑minute set piece involving multiple actors volleying the feathered shuttlecock back and forth with their feet, knees, and heads, all choreographed to flow like a martial arts fight. Shuttlecocks are notoriously hard to control, and with so many performers on screen, even the smallest mistake meant starting over. Chan kept the cameras rolling and pushed his cast through take after take after take, until every kick, pass, and reaction landed exactly as he envisioned. By the time he was satisfied, the production had burned through over 1,000 takes.

• When the Disney film "Tron" hit cinemas, it was unlike anything audiences had ever seen before. The studio had poured money into a bold experiment: a film that blended live action with computer‑ generated imagery, at a time when the technology was still in its infancy. The glowing suits, the light cycles, the surreal landscapes inside the computer world - all of it was ground-breaking. It started to look like the future of cinema. But when it came time for the Oscars, "Tron" wasn’t even nominated for Best Visual Effects. The reason? The Academy ruled that 'visual effects' meant models, matte paintings, and optical tricks - the traditional crafts of Hollywood. So using computers was “cheating". How little they knew...

• "Casablanca" is arguably one of  the most famous movies in the history of film. In 1982 freelance writer Chuck Ross devised an experiment. He retyped the script of "Casablanca", changing its title to "Everybody Comes to Rick's" (the title of the original play). He also amended  the name of Rick's sidekick from Sam to Dooley (after Dooley Wilson, the actor who played that character), and submitted it to 217 agencies as a script supposedly by an unknown writer, "Erik Demos". Ninety returned it unread. Seven never responded. Eighteen scripts apparently got lost in the mail. Thirty-three agencies actually recognised it. However, thirty-eight agencies claimed to have read it, but rejected it because they thought the script was not good enough.

The Memory:

The Sword and the Sorcerer

All kids of a certain age will remember their local "video shop". Much like comic book stores full of back issues, video rental shops had their own particular smell, their own ambience. Cheap carpet tiles, an ancient looking television set, the 'adult' section shoved ungainly in a rack in the corner. If films were your drug of choice, the guy behind the counter was your dealer.  I'm not talking the glossy, brightly lit branches of a "Blockbusters" - these were the places that some village entrepreneur decided to open up to provide surrounding residents with VHS copies of the latest Hollywood movies (along with a tiny sample of Betamax format films before that format died an unloved death).

You have to understand that in the 1980s (in the UK at least) it could take up to five years for a film to make it's way from the cinema to the three terrestrial channels (Channel 4 didn't start until November of 1982). If you didn't get to the two screen Odeon or single screen ABC cinemas in the nearest town, that was it in terms of seeing the film until BBC 1 showed it at Christmas or Easter. Sure home taping had begun to take off as the price of video cassettes tumbled - by this point I was regularly recording "Doctor Who" and a whole host of other things off of the television - but *new* films? -  the video shop was really your only option (unless you had access to "pirate" recordings, often from a man driving around honking his car horn and then opening his boot to show the few meagre cassettes he had available. (I vaguely recall getting to see an appalling copy of "E.T." this way).

The thing is, local shops didn't have the cash to buy many copies of the same film. If you were very lucky they would have two or three of a brand new title, but more often than not there would just be a single solitary plastic box on the shelf in the "new releases" section - and that would obviously be missing too if someone had already rented the cassette. You could hang around in the vain hope that someone might return the film while you were there, or be told by the proprietor to pop back in a couple of hours on the off chance that the current renter returned it on time. Either that or choose a different film to watch.

(My local video shop after it had closed. That parish office used to be a betting shop!)

My local video emporium was where I first got to see teen sex comedies such as "Porky's" and "Screwballs", classics like "The Blues Brothers", action films like "First Blood" and horror fare such as"Alien" (naturally I had to get my dad to rent those ones!). This was before the infamous Video Recordings Act of 1984 which saw a whole host of titles classed as "video nasties" and banned. Softcore porn sat side by side with titles like "Driller Killer" and "I Spit On Your Grave". There would always be a copy of "The Warriors" or something starring Chuck Norris - plus a plethora of weird and wonderful titles that you had never heard of but whose cover illustrations and blurb on the back enticed you in. "Rent me" they pleaded. "I'm not crap, honest".

The early 80s was when "sword and sorcery" movies hit it big. We'd had the wonderfully cheesy "Hawk The Slayer" at the start of the decade, followed by "Dragonslayer" and "Excalibur". 1982 was dominated by the Arnold Schwarzenegger starring "Conan The Barbarian", but that wasn't my favourite. Not even Marc Singers "The Beastmaster" came close. No - the 80s best S&S movie by a country mile was aptly named "The Sword and the Sorcerer".

Okay, so anyone seeing the film for the first time will clearly realise that it's a *bit* of a rip off of Conan. The young child protagonist who sees his family killed by an tyrannical invader and vows revenge - growing up in exile to be a muscly rogue mercenary. The evil wizard with his own agenda. The scantily clad beautiful women. The rampant violence. Even that poster above could have been ripped from a Frank Frazetta book cover. So far, so cliché.

But the thing that sets "The Sword and the Sorcerer" above many of it's contemporaries is that - much like the Dino De Laurentis "Flash Gordon" -  it never takes itself too seriously. The hero Talon is witty and intelligent (if rather boorish) and more in the mold of the swashbucklers of the early days of cinema, rather than the hulking brute who just uses his strength. He's also refreshingly honest - agreeing to help the rebellion against nasty Titus Cromwell not for gold or power, but because it will gain him a night of passion with the lovely Alana. The company of "heroes" bicker amongst each other, and it's this kind of knowing, wink-at-the-audience, "yeah we know it's a bit cheap but it's a hell of a lot of fun" attitude that makes the film so entertaining. It also had a lot of influence on later entries in the genre. You can probably trace a (wobbly, meandering) line from here to the "The Princess Bride" five years later.

I can't talk about Talon without mentioning his sword - after all it get's top billing in the film's title. This is not just any normal broadsword. It has three blades, two of which can be fired at the opponent via some sort of compressed air technical doohickery. Plus it has another knife hidden in the hilt. Back in the day I thought this was one of the cleverest things ever. Utterly impractical and you never see Talon having to go and retrieve his blades by yanking them out of someone's skull, but hey, it's still mightily impressive. It's also enchanted apparently, though how and by whom is never explained as far as I can recall.

So what about the Sorcerer then? Well his name is Xusia of Delos and he's a particularly ugly looking specimen - but then so would you be if you had been entombed after using banned dark magic and then resurrected centuries later by Titus Cromwell's pet witch! Xusia aids the evil ruler in finally conquering the kingdom of Ehdan  - but his reward is a literal knife in the back and he flings himself off a cliff, while Cromwell goes on to consolidate his stranglehold over Ehdan across many years. It's a swift end for one of the supposed main characters you might think.

But after Talon and his friends have fought Cromwell to a standstill, there is a massive twist towards the end of the film, as the kings sour faced adviser Count Machelli - standing in plain sight all the time - reveals himself to have been Xusia in disguise all along, and with plans to take control of the kingdom himself.

"He's a sorcerer" you might say. "Of course he can use illusion to conceal himself". Ah, but it's not the fact that Xusia was camouflaged that is the memorable moment from this movie - it's how he reveals himself. Machelli *literally* tears his own head in half, slime oozes everywhere and the hideous visage of the sorcerer struggles free of his meat-suit. It's one of those images which you never forget. Visually impressive in a film which had such a small budget, but also genuinely disgusting. This is the part that all my school friends talked about when news of what a great film it was started to spread around the classrooms.

After this stunning revelation. the final battle features lots of clashing swords and gritted teeth plus further triple blade action and more hidden weapons than you can shake a Cimmerian at. Cromwell get his just deserts, Xusia is finally killed (twice) and Alana is saved from a huge snake between her legs. Yes this film is also full of incredibly thinly veiled innuendo. Following a night of celebration, feasting and not forgetting sex with the princess, Talon rides off into the sunset with his band of mercenaries.

"Watch out for Talon's next adventure - Tales of the Ancient Empire - coming soon" we were promised. But despite keeping an eye on the video shop shelves for the next few years, it never materialised (apparently it was eventually released a staggering 28 years later in 2010, with a totally different cast and only a cameo from Talon. I've never seen it. One reviewer's comment was that it's only redeeming quality was that it was laughably short. Ouch.)

Overall then "the Sword and the Sorcerer" is camp, low budget, has some terrible dialogue and some even hammier acting. But it's full of fun ideas, great action, visceral special effects, blood and gore (Talon is even crucified at one point) and some mild nudity. What more could a teenage boy have wanted? Its "don't care" attitude and word of mouth about how enjoyable it was meant it became a cult classic, not just amongst my friends at school, but also in the wider world. It made near ten times it's original budget and was the most successful independent film of the year.

Having looked at the home media version for the film that is available now, I see that it is rated 18 in the UK - which makes me wonder how on earth we were allowed to rent it back in 1982. I know that the clampdown was not in place for another couple of years but even so, this was not a film that my parents rented for me - I just went and picked it up of the shelf. Perhaps I just looked older than I really was. It's decades since I have seen it, but this look-back just *might* make me search out an old DVD copy on eBay...


Honourable mentions:

• Star Fleet - Not many of us recall this science fiction puppet series, but those that do have fond memories. As far as I know, it was only shown the once on Saturday mornings at the end of 1982. But this was not a Gerry Anderson show (no strings here) and for most children was probably their first exposure to some of the prevalent themes of Japanese anime. It featured a 24 episode long story arc, huge spaceships weird aliens, an ancient looking sailing ship in space and of course the heroes craft combining together to form an awesome giant robot - the Dai-X. We had never seen anything like it before. The UK version is also justly famous for the great theme tune which was later covered by Brian May from "Queen". I have the DVD box set around here somewhere, and really should give it a watch to see if it lives up to that nostalgic glow. Now if I could only find those comic strips from "Look-In" magazine...

• The Dark Crystal - Another fantastical story featuring puppets, but a far cry from "Star Fleet". Jim Henson and Frank Oz’s "The Dark Crystal" is something entirely different: a mythic fantasy that treats puppetry not as comedy or children’s entertainment, but as a vehicle for epic storytelling. What strikes me, is how surprisingly adult the themes are. This isn’t a cosy fairy tale. It’s a story about corruption, balance, and the fragility of existence. The Skeksis, with their grotesque decadence, remain unnerving even decades later, while the gentle Mystics embody a kind of melancholy wisdom. The film casts its spell from the very first frame, pulling you into a dreamlike universe that feels both ancient and timeless. I must have watched it dozens of times over the years, and each viewing reminds me how singular it is - the combination of Henson’s ambition, Oz’s direction, and Froud’s designs creating something that doesn’t really have a peer. For many years my real hope was that the film remained a standalone work of art, untouched by sequels or reboots. Yet surprisingly, when Netflix released lavish prequel series "Age of Resistance" in 2019, it wasn't blasphemy. It combined modern puppetry with digital effects to  deepen the lore, introduce new Gelfling clans, and give the Skeksis even more grotesque detail. I loved it just as much.

• The Young Ones - The anarchic show about four university students which launched the careers of Rik Mayall, Adrian Edmonson, Nigel Planer and (to a lesser extent) Christopher Ryan. After "Not The Nine O'Clock News" had finished earlier in the year, this became my favourite comedy programme and it's where I first came to adore the genius of the late Mayall (although I had seen him the year before as Kevin Turvey on "A Kick Up The Eighties". It was full of cartoon violence, surreal non sequiturs, offensive talking puppets, subliminal flash frames and didn't so much break the fourth wall as smash through it with a sledgehammer (or probably Vyvyan's head). Plus a live band performance in the middle of each episode. For teenagers growing up in the 80s, this was *our* show. The critics hated it, the grown up's didn't understand it, but we could quote whole reams of dialogue. It changed the face of television comedy forever.

• Yazoo - Upstairs at Erics - The first album by synth-pop duo Alison Moyet and Vince Clarke. They were the first band I really followed - and I remember having a disagreement with my year-older cousin because he dissed them in favour of the supposedly cooler "The Jam". The combination of Clarke's synth driven melodies and Moyet's soulful voice, along with the experimental nature of some tracks was a revelation to me and the LP was never off my turntable after I saw them perform "Don't Go" on "Top of the Pops". Years later an acquaintance with his own band revealed that they had auditioned Moyet for the position as lead singer, but had turned her down for not being good enough! 

• Warrior - I only came across this most important of British comic publications by chance while browsing the shelves of a newsagent. The first issue cover with the maniacal, cleaver wielding cyborg Axel Pressbutton proclaimed "He's back!", even though I had never heard of him - and by this point I thought I was pretty knowledgeable about UK comics (but not music magazines clearly). Nowadays of course Pressbutton is more of a footnote, because the anthology is famous for launching the twin Alan Moore juggernauts of "Marvelman (Miracleman)" and "V For Vendetta". My brother and I used to fight over who got to read the issues first and I met editor Dez Skinn several times either at comic marts or by visiting him at the "Quality Comics" shop in South London. As well as the Moore strips with incredibly art from Garry Leach, Alan Davis and David Lloyd, I also enjoyed the medieval demon slaying of "Father Shandor" , although that might have been due to the voluptuous females drawn by John Bolton. I never did quite understand "The Spiral Path" though...

• The Belgariad by David Eddings - A five volume fantasy series that takes many of the standard tropes of fantasy and deals with them in new and interesting ways. Prophecy and destiny are active forces, magic follows strict rules and the pantheon of local gods are real, taking direct action on the world. Eddings was adept at writing interesting and lovable characters and in the enigmatic Belgarath and his daughter Polgara he created two of fantasy's most memorable sorcerers. Yes it's a quest story and, yes by today's standards the plot might seem predictable (it's being marketed more for young adults now I think) but you want to spend time with these people - it's not just the destination but also the journey that counts. Sequel series "The Malloreon" expands on the world and follows many of the same story beats, but that's directly acknowledged in the plot as the hand of prophecy forcing things along. Two other single novels complete the 12 book saga by telling background and historical details from alternative viewpoints. Good fun and a great start for someone into the fantasy genre.

• Eagle comic - I knew the title. I knew that the famous 50-60s version had featured the legendary adventures of the original "Dan Dare" (plus I'd loved his adventures in 2000 AD). but the revival was something different. Dare was there in the centre colour spread (well his great-great grandson) but surrounding him were photo strips across a wide range of genres. Robot action in "Manixx". Police adventures with "Sgt. Streetwise". Cowboy scrapes with "Saddle Tramp". Most popular of all though was "Doomlord" - the tale of an alien race judging humanity and sending an envoy to destroy us all. Despite only having a rubber mask and a few meagre special effects, John Wagner and Alan Grant managed to tell an exciting and scary adventure and kept introducing new fresh elements. I really liked the new Eagle but to be honest I still preferred the hand dawn comic strips such as "The Tower King" and "House of Daemon" (especially as both featured the stunning art of Jose Ortiz) and eventually the comic switched all the stories back to artwork. It never supplanted 2000 AD in my affections and I stopped buying it somewhere around issue 150 in mid -1985, but those early issues contain a lot of wonderful stuff.

ZX Spectrum - Without any doubt, one of the most important home computers in the history of gaming. The sheer innovation, enjoyment and legacy of  Clive Sinclair's little 48K home computer cannot be underestimated. Suffice it to say that for a period of time the humble "Speccy" became the dominant thing in my life (and those of my friends). I spent hundreds of hours typing in code, visiting computer fairs, reading magazine reviews, buying peripherals and playing a vast number of the thousands of games available. It was incredible what could be accomplished with a mere 48K of memory. You only have to mention "Jet Set Willy", "Daley Thompson's Decathlon" or "Knightlore"  and I go misty eyed with nostalgia. Forget Microsoft, Sony or Apple - the ZX Spectrum made home consoles and video games what they are today. I still have the same machine stored away (although it's not been turned on in years). There will further mentions of the rubber-keyed wonder in later posts - relating to a specific innovative game...

We're All Stories In The End 17 - Conundrum

I love it when we get a good mash-up...

Conundrum by Steve Lyons

Seventh Doctor Adventures number: 22

Originally published: January 1994

Companions: Ace & Benny

"Doctor, we're talking about an old man who used to dress up in a skintight white jump suit and fly around New York catching super-villains. Don't you think there's something just a bit unusual about that?"

A killer is stalking the streets of the village of Arandale. The victims are found one each day, drained of blood. And if that seems strange, it's nothing compared to the town's inhabitants.

The Seventh Doctor, Ace and Bernice think they're investigating a murder mystery. But it's all much more bizarre than that. And much more dangerous.

Someone has interfered with the Doctor's past again, and he's landed in a place he knows he once destroyed. This time there can be no escape.                                    

I'm going to keep this short, and state this from the off - I *loved* this book.

I mean sure, I figured out that this was a return trip to the Land of Fiction pretty early on. But the execution of that idea, and the fun that Lyons has along the way is what makes it such a joy to read.

And because it's the Land of Fiction he can get away with pretty much anything.

It's not tied to one genre. We get Enid Blyton parody, world-weary former superheroes, Chandler-esque detectives, satanic rituals, serial killers and witchcraft - and it all works together brilliantly. And the presence of the "Writer" as the narrator means the book is self-aware - it knows all the typical Who clichés of cliff-hangers at the end of chapters, miraculous escapes from certain death and continuity errors - and revels in them. 

But what's also key to the success of the novel is that the silliness is balanced with real moments of character development and sadness - even though you know that pretty much every supporting character isn't real. Yes I know strictly speaking, none of it is real, but you get my point.

Benny and Ace actually get stuff to do and their conversations both together and apart give real insight into their feelings. Ace admitting her anger at the Doctor's manipulations  - and how she wants to beat him at his own game - was an important moment, even more so because she shared it with her travelling companion first. And Benny's care for Norman Power really shines through, right up to his terrible, tragic end.

If I'm honest, It's the best I have seen them both written for quite a while.

If I have any criticisms, its that the story strand with the "Adventure Kids" didn’t seem to have much point, beyond a perfectly good homage. Although I did like the continual problems with Carson the dog and his ultimate fate - it made me think of the infamous "Five Go Mad In Dorset" by the Comic Strip, which is never a bad thing.

But that's a minor quibble amongst so much stuff to like - 

• The TARDIS becoming a gingerbread cottage.
• The life-sized game of Mousetrap.
• The Doctor's conversation with the Master of the Land via a Scrabble board.
• Explaining the power of "Meanwhile…."
• The brilliant line - "This time I want the real McCoy".
• John and Gillian, the Doctor's "real" "Grandchildren" from TV Comic
• Mentions of the Kleptons and the Trods, also from the comic strips.

I'm guessing that the author might also be a DC comics fan with characters named Corrigan and Shade. But the *really* deep cut comes with an appearance from the mechanical Dredlox - who appeared once in an early 80s issue of  - of all things - "Power Man and Iron Fist". 

I imagine Lyons had a *lot* of fun writing this,

I rattled through the book very quickly, which is always a good sign. I wouldn't want every Who novel to be this madcap, but it's refreshing to have it every now and again.

It'll be a good long while before we get to another Steve Lyons book - "Head Games" I think ?

If it's as good as this one, then it's really something to look forward to.

Golden Sunsets Redux - 60 Years of Memories - Part 15 - 1981

A complete series of SF novels is the focus this time - ones which captivated me as a young teenager and deserves to be up there with the best of the genre...

1981:

The trivia:

• In 1809, in the middle of the Napoleonic Wars, the local council of Huéscar in Grenada, Spain  decided to declare war on Denmark. And then… everyone forgot about it. Completely. For 172 years, Huéscar was technically at war with Denmark, though nobody in either country seemed to notice. No soldiers were mobilised, no shots were fired, no casualties recorded. Life in Huéscar carried on as normal, while Denmark remained blissfully unaware that a town in southern Spain had them on its enemies list. It wasn’t until 1981 that someone stumbled across the paperwork in the town archives and realised. By then, of course, the whole thing was ridiculous. So the mayor of Huéscar invited the Danish ambassador to a formal ceremony, and the two sides signed a peace treaty. After nearly two centuries of “conflict,” the war ended with handshakes and a round of drinks.

• Roger Fischer, a professor of law at Harvard suggested a unique idea to deter the use of nuclear weapons - put the codes in a capsule and implant it next to the heart of a willing volunteer, who would always carry a large knife. In order to use the codes, the President would have to kill the individual with his own hands -  confronting the reality of taking a single life before ordering the deaths of millions. Fischer reasoned that it was a way of forcing empathy into a system designed to be cold and mechanical. Needless to say the Pentagon didn't go for it, citing that it would "distort the President's judgement"...

• The late 1970s and early ’80s were a golden age for niche record labels, and none were more mischievous than Stiff Records in the UK. Known for their cheeky marketing and punk‑era irreverence, they specialised in turning music into satire. One of their most notorious releases was an LP called "The Wit and Wisdom of Ronald Reagan". The joke? Both sides of the record were completely silent. Buyers got a glossy LP sleeve, a disc with grooves, and absolutely no audio. And yet, the gag landed so well that the record sold more than 30,000 copies. 

The memory:

The Saga of the Exiles by Julian May

After a brief dalliance with a couple of SF stories in the early 1950s, Julian May became  a prolific non-fiction writer, penning thousands of science encyclopaedia entries and over 250 books for children. So effectively she was a brand new author when I came across "The Many-Coloured Land" - the first in the "Saga of the Exiles" - in my local bookshop. The unusual cover and the premise of a group of time travellers going back to ancient Earth only to find that it was already occupied by aliens intrigued me enough to buy the book. What I never expected was that the story would be much more complicated, thoughtful and wide ranging - would expand to cover a further four volumes beyond the original quartet - and would become one of my favourite SF series of all time.

So here's the plot. By the late 21st  / early 22nd century, three hugely important things have happened to the human race and society on the planet:

• Time travel has been discovered. However the time gate only works in one French location and back to one time -  six million years to the Pliocene era. It's also just one way - any attempt to travel back to the "present" ages the traveller (or any organic object) instantly to death.

• Various individuals have emerged  as "metapsychics" - possessed of mental powers strong enough to manipulate energy or objects, coerce others to do their bidding, communicate telepathically and heal mental illnesses. 

• After being under surveillance for centuries, Earth has had an "Intervention" which introduced it to the wider galactic community and a number of equally psychic exotic alien races, which are together striving for mental "unity". A faction of humans opposed to this idea - and with a view to making humans supreme -  fermented a "Metapsychic Rebellion". It waas a conflict which resulted in a horrendous loss of life across the galaxy, but was narrowly defeated.

Despite the advances of humanity and the expansion into the galaxy, there are still those who want to escape the modern world. A steady number of misfits and outcasts use the time gateway to try to start over in the simplistic world of the Pliocene. All technology that will not decompose after a hundred years is banned from being carried back and all females are sterilised to prevent the contamination of the past.

The saga begins as a fresh group of "exiles" prepare to travel through the gate to a new life. However the Pliocene world that awaits them is not the pastoral utopia they expected. Instead it is already inhabited by two evolutionary branches of a metapsychic alien race - the beautiful, tall Tanu and the short, ugly Firvulag - who are engaged in a centuries old war. Having fled their own galaxy, they were marooned on Earth when their living spaceship crash landed. The Tanu have enslaved most of the previous human settlers through the use of various metal torcs around their necks and use them as workers, battle troops and breeding stock (female sterilisation has been reversed) - and to assist in their constant battles with the Firvulag, which culminate each year in the "Grand Combat". The torcs also enhance any latent metapsychic powers of the wearer.

What follows is an epic science fiction, meets fantasy, meets super-powers series where the exiled humans begin to vastly influence and change the dynamic of the aliens endless conflict. Via the power of the Golden Torc, various individuals find themselves in possession of enormous mental abilities. Some like trickster Aiken Drum want to take over, while others like the unstable Felice are driven mad and seek to destroy the society the Tanu have built over the centuries since their arrival.

In the third book ("The Non Born King"), May introduces the survivors of the Metapsychic Rebellion who fled into the Pliocene, and the efforts of their leader and the Galactic Milieu's strongest mind, Marc Remillard, to escape his prehistoric prison. Marc's family don't necessarily see eye-to-eye with him on all his plans and this conflict adds another layer into an already large cast of characters.

The clash between the various factions of "exiles" mounts to a crescendo in the final volume when allies, friends and families turn against each other and the fate of both the ancient and futuristic worlds hang in the balance. I'm incredibly reluctant to reveal too much detail about the plot as experiencing it fresh for the first time is really the best way. Suffice it to say that there are plenty of twists and turns before all the players reach their final destinations. May also offers tantalising glimpses of background characters and past (or is that future) events, fleshing out the societies and races involved.

Like some modern celebrated authors (George R.R. Martin coms to mind), May is hugely adept at mixing multiple points of view, political infighting, human relationships, huge battle scenes, intricate plotting and life changing events. Although much of the world building has its roots in Celtic mythology and religious symbolism, it never feels anything less than fresh and exciting and there is a real cross-genre feel, which meant the storyline appealed to all of my interests.  I remember impatiently waiting for each book to come out, and along with "The Chronicles of Thomas Covenant", this was a series which I read and re-read in my teenage years, each time getting something new out of it. Part of me thinks that it would make a great multi-season TV series, but then again, perhaps it's best that these characters live vividly in my imagination instead of watered down on the screen.

After the end of book four ("The Adversary"), May released "A Pliocene Companion" - a reference guide to the world she created, along with maps, author interviews and discussions on the sources that provided inspiration. It's certainly not essential to read it to enjoy the books, but it does offer some interesting background details for real fans.

She than followed up her epic with a further four book story that, although more pure SF in flavour, is both prequel *and* sequel to the original saga. The massive single volume "Intervention" details the history of the Remillard family and the events that lead up to the Great Intervention where the alien races inhabiting the galaxy reveal themselves to the population of Earth. The subsequent "Galactic Milieu" trilogy - "Jack the Bodiless", "Diamond Mask" and "Magnificat"" moves forward forty years and tells the story of the Metapsychic Rebellion. It fills in much of the backstory only hinted at in the original quartet, reveals many secrets, and in the end loops everything back very neatly to the events of the Pliocene Exile (just look at the mirror image in that final cover).

I really would consider Julian May to be one of the great science fiction or fantasy authors and as a complete eight book sequence (or ten books if you count the "Companion" and split "Intervention" in two as some versions have) it's an incredible inventive and enjoyable piece of work that must have taken meticulous planning across more than a decade of writing. It's amazing how things referenced in the last novel tie back to those in the first and vice versa.

Sadly May seems to have been largely forgotten about in the modern era, but she is well overdue discovery by a new generation of readers. Although it's been quite a while since I last re-read it - and I wonder if my much older self would get quite the same thrill now as I did back then - the "Saga of the Exiles"  still remains one of those series which expanded my horizons on what could be accomplished in a genre novel.

Honourable mentions:

• The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy - When people talk about "Hitchhiker’s", they could mean the novels, the LPs, the stage show, or even the video game. For me though, it was the BBC television series that really lodged itself in my memory. I’d already devoured the original radio episodes when Radio 4 re‑broadcast all twelve in one go, but seeing Douglas Adams’ universe brought to life on screen was something else entirely. Yes, Zaphod’s second head looked clunky, and Marvin the Paranoid Android’s costume now feels like a relic of early ’80s design. But those quirks aside, the production nailed the casting and atmosphere. Simon Jones as Arthur Dent was pitch‑perfect, embodying the baffled everyman caught in cosmic absurdity. David Dixon’s Ford Prefect had just the right mix of charm and alien detachment, and Mark Wing‑Davey’s Zaphod carried the swagger even if the prosthetics didn’t. What truly captured me, though, was "The Book". The hand‑drawn animations, paired with Peter Jones’ wonderfully dry narration, were exactly how I’d imagined the Guide itself. They gave the series its unique texture - witty, informative, and slightly surreal. No amount of 21st‑century CGI can match the charm of those sequences, which felt like a perfect extension of Adams’ humour. 

• Shock Treatment - "Rocky Horror" casts a long shadow, which is probably why its semi‑sequel is so often overlooked. It never quite caught the same cult lightning in a bottle, but for me it’s just as much fun - and in some ways even sharper. Where "Rocky" was a gleeful send‑up of B‑movies and sexual liberation, "Shock Treatment" turns its satirical eye on television culture, consumerism, and the creeping influence of media on everyday life. The songs are a big part of why I love it. “Bitchin’ in the Kitchen” is a masterclass in wordplay, rattling off domestic frustrations with tongue‑twisting glee, while “Little Black Dress” bursts with sheer exuberance. They’re tracks that demand you sing along, and I often do. Richard O’Brien’s knack for mixing camp, satire, and genuine musical hooks is on full display here. The film’s reception was mixed, and it never achieved the midnight‑movie status of its predecessor, but that doesn’t mean it should be dismissed. I was lucky enough to see the first-ever stage production during it's limited run in London in 2015, and I wrote more about the film and that show here. Sneak preview: it was *really* good.

                             

• An American Werewolf in London - One of the first horror films I can remember renting on VHS from our local video shop. It wasn’t the snarling werewolf transformations or the gruesome killings that unsettled me though. What really creeped me out was David’s dead friend Jack, who kept reappearing in ever more decomposed states. Each visit was darker, funnier, and more grotesque, and it lodged in my memory far more than the monster itself. John Landis’s film is often remembered for its ground-breaking transformation effects, but for me it’s that mix of horror and black comedy that makes it endure. The way Jack keeps turning up, cracking jokes while his flesh rots away, is the perfect example of the film’s tone: unsettling and absurd at the same time. And then there’s the cameo that always makes me smile - the much-missed Rik Mayall, tucked away in the Slaughtered Lamb pub. It’s a blink‑and‑you’ll‑miss‑it appearance, another big reason why this film gets on the list *.

• The Antipope - The first novel by humourist and "father of far-fetched fiction" Robert Rankin. it also launched the increasingly mis-numbered "Brentford Trilogy" - a sprawling, eccentric series starring anti-heroes Jim Pooley and John O'Mally, here drinking and womanising their way through a surreal adventure against Pope Alexander VI, last of the Borgia's, and his attempt to take over the world (or Brentford at least). I was lent the book by a friend originally and although I found it interesting enough, it wasn't until the early 90s when Rankin's career really took off that I truly appreciated what a gloriously book it is. Much like early Terry Pratchett, the seeds of the great writer to come are all present here:  the absurd premises, the sly humour, the sense of community. The running jokes, old traditions and charters and art of "talking the toot" are still to come, but the foundations were already there.. There really is no one like Rankin out there and it's a damn shame his output has decreased in recent years.

• Ka-Zar The Savage - Another of my early Marvel comics titles and one of the first to go down the "direct market" route of distribution in speciality comics shops. This Tarzan analogue, with his trusty pet Zabu the sabre-toothed tiger and girlfriend Shanna the She-Devil, was a completely unknown character to me until the new series was released -  but the combination of writing from Bruce Jones and fantastic art from Brent Anderson soon put it to the top of my reading list. The first dozen or so issues are the best, dealing with the discovery of the hidden land of Pangea, the descent into a version of Dante's Hell and the battle against the demon lord Belasco, whose presence adds a darker, more supernatural edge to the series.  I lapped it up, and to be honest, I don’t think the character has been handled as well since. Later iterations never quite captured the same mix of pulp energy and philosophical undertones. For me it remains a perfect example of how comics can take a character you barely know and turning them into a favourite through sheer storytelling.

* Rik Mayall has a slightly more substantial appearance in another film on this list. Can you guess which one ?