Search/Destroy: A Strontium Dog Fan Film

We’re here to reach out a hand to the less-mutated community.
- Harvey, GCC Recruitment Drive, 11^th February 2017

 

The hall’s rammed.  Standing room only.  Harvey (as worn by Guy Hepworth) takes the lectern.  Galactic Crime Commission recruitment posters raised behind him block out freedom’s flag and justice’s eagle.  Anticipation thickens the air.  Harvey starts talking, introducing the recruitment film that’s about to fill the screen floating above him.  We’re told about ‘diversity targets’ and warned off interacting with stray Gronks. 

Then the lights go out. 

The film’s cast and crew wait in the dark with the rest of us.  This is an exclusive occasion: first time out in public and a guest of honour at an old friend’s birthday party.  It’s a lot to take in.  Big day all round, to be fair.

Search/Destroy is Steves Green and Sterlacchini’s second cinematic tribute to 2000 AD.  Their first, Judge Minty, went down well with fans, critics and creators alike.  John Wagner described it as his favourite Dredd film at the time and, despite petitions and marches and Facebook campaigns, there hasn’t been one since, so the accolade must still stand.  There’re similarities between the Steves' two films, obviously, but not as many as you’d expect.  Whereas Judge Minty felt like a standalone, Search/Destroy has the air of a pilot to it.  Or a prologue.  Dredd and his world have soaked further into modern culture than Johnny and Wulf, maybe that’s why.  I don’t think so.

Just the facts then.  Search/Destroy is good.  It’s gritty, solid, professional and filled with as much love as Judge Minty was.  The CGI is also better than it has any right to be, it's certainly superior to some recent examples in The Walking Dead and Doctor Who.  Of course, it’s easier to spend longer getting things right when you’re making them for love rather than as components of an industrial machine.  It showed previously, it does so again.  The constraints of being not-for-profit offer greater creative freedom.  The work’s finished when it’s finished, not when the beans run out.

Strontium Dog’s always been a Western, and Search/Destroy honours this.  It’s the universal tale of society’s outcasts hunting society’s outcasts set against a backdrop of galaxies, rather than mesas.  Sand, stand-offs, shoot-outs, stubble, staring: all present and moodily correct.  In contrast to Judge Minty, Search/Destroy isn’t a direct adaptation/extension of an existing story.  There are things you’ve seen before but, unlike a shallow Snyderesque reproduction of cool comic panels without understanding the underlying meaning, the Steves mostly use these moments to help delineate character.  It’s refreshing, to say the least.

Of course, we’re talking a different language here.  Franchises shouldn’t aim at fans because they’ll buy it anyway, to misquote Dez Skinn.  Fan films don’t need to pander to the norms at all, and this, when done well, is their real strength.  Thrilling, undiluted direct hits, pummeling a shared consciousness are always going to be more satisfying, more nourishing, than something that fawns.  Franchises stroke fancheeks with obsequious namedrops, then turn on those same fans, spitting insults if the unnecessary fondling doesn't produce the required amount of jerking-kneed gratitude.1

The casting here’s spot-on.  Matthew Simpson’s Alpha and Kevin Horsham’s Wulf stride solidly out of the strips, bringing a vibe that’s part Reznor-cool and part scary-Scandinavian.  Or something.  It’s certainly dwarf-star heavy.  The wonderful Mr Dehn, Judge Minty himself, is back, batting for evil this innings.  The supporting cast do a grand job and the music kicks arse. 

Niggles?  Well, if I had to say something..  A couple of the edits seemed perhaps a nanosecond too late and I was reminded more of Starlord than Tharg.  Both are probably my own fault.

Search/Destroy sets the Strontium Dog universe up excellently and is a worthy additional chapter to the ongoing story of 2000 AD.  The deafening applause that greeted the credits would seem to back this up.  Search/Destroy shares your nostalgia and affection for these characters, rather than simply using them as a distraction while forcing your wallet open and roughly milking you into a filthy, plastic cash bucket.  And, for that reason alone, you owe it your time.

…spread the word (sorry, different strip).
- Steve Green

NEXT PROG:

 

1.  Or, as a great man once said, “Stop getting Bond wrong!”

Doc in Heaven (Choose Your Own Adventure variant)

   Borag Thungg!
   Thrashoruns!
   Quaequam Blag!
   Squaxx Dek Thargo!
   Florix Grabundae!
   Cake!
   Frognum Gruelis!

   Art Droid: Rev

Andrew Cartmel (Choose Your Own Adventure variant)

You’re in a library and it’s huge.  Thousands of books and comics cling to the walls, held up on dust-free clear plastic shelves.  The air shimmers and tastes faintly of ozone and iodine.  The shelves stretch to a distant vanishing point.  You start moving forward.  Tiny sparks dance around your feet with every step.  You guess the floor can’t be marble after all.

Slowly the end of the room comes into focus.  A smiling man is holding up two bundles of paper, one obviously much older than the other.  You can’t make out the writing on either.  Behind the man – a librarian, maybe? – there's a smiling woman sitting on a sofa that looks reasonably comfortable.  A chamois leather decorated mannequin stands to the left, behind it the wall has been tastefully decorated with a collection of exquisite prints.  There’s no cake anywhere.

Do you:

   Talk to the 'librarian'?

   Examine the prints?

   Examine the bundles of paper?  

   Sit on the sofa?

   Attack the mannequin?

#SocksInSpace (And Other Mammals on the Fringes)

 

When a thing is funny, search it for a hidden truth.

- George Bernard Shaw

or

It isn’t so much what’s on the table that matters, as what’s on the chairs.

- W. S. Gilbert

or

Critics can’t even make music by rubbing their back legs together.

- Mel “Braveheart” Brooks

Previously on No Complications:

If you want to know how everything works -  Turn to 1

Now, read on...

Me:  So.  The Socks.

Him:  In Space.

Me:  “In Space” indeed.  How do you want to go about doing this?

Him:  “They were just moving, indistinct shapes.  Their hideous forms could not be described by words…”

Me:  That’s a lovely start but it doesn’t really take into account the fact that we were in the front row and had a cracking view.

Him:  I wasn’t talking about the Socks.

Me:  Fair enough.  I’ve read a lot of reviews like that.  In honesty, I’ve written a lot of reviews like that.  I doubt this one’ll break the tradition.  Or old charter.  Or something.

Him:  “SCUM OF THE EARTH!”

Me:  “COME ON!”  Anyway...

Him:  You need to stop writing down the stuff I’m saying.  It’s not all for this and it’s out of context.

Me:  It’s our USP. 

Him:  Is that not a type of snake?

Me:  Carry on, Cleo.

Long, long pause.  The Him’s baffled.

Me:  Are you sitting comfortably?

Him:  I’m sitting at an angle.

Me:  Then we’ll begin.  I’ve managed to see the Socks three times this year now – and you hadn’t seen them since…?

Him:  What is an ‘usp’?

Me:  It’s a rapidly-rising ‘us’.  When did you last see the Socks?

Him:  What are A, B and C?

Me:  If I remember correctly, a third of them had a thing for Penelope Keith.  In black and white.  Just after Doctor Who Plays Cricket.

Him:  Last year.

Me:  That’s right.  And in the same venue, same row, almost the same seats.

The Him nods.

Me:  And of course that was the matinee children’s show.

Him:  Did we not see the one about the bakery? 

Me:  No, that was the second show - the full-on horror review in the night.  They were doing two shows a day.

Him:  Right.

Me:  So, I’d been lucky enough to see them twice this year already, which gave me a bit of a perspective on how the material had changed and the show’d come together.  Although that does mean that I was one of the few people who noticed that the Sock in the kilt actually travelled in time last night, which is damn impressive when it’s part of a show about science-fiction.

Pause.

Him:  What do you mean ‘actually travelled in time’?  I know the Sock was wearing a different costume and everything-

Me:  I’ll tell you at the end and make it look like it was an intentional piece of post-modernistic meta-fiction playing against the expectations of a predicted contextual assessment.

Him:  Okay.

Me:  Is that alright?

Him:  Yeah.

Me:  Marvelous.  I’ll try and work out what that means before we get there.

Him:  Okay.

Me:  Talking of Doctor Who, which we weren’t2, would you like to tie this review in with our last post?

Him:  No, not really.

Me:  Do you want me to?

Him:  Not really. Neither does the Law.

Me:  I don’t think we need to involve Judge Dredd.

Him:  We do.

Me:  Grudd!  Drokk!  Stomm! 

Long, long pause.  Dust drifts.  Squirrels weep.  The usual.

Him:  Oooookay.

Me:  Shall I go first then?

Him:  If you want to.

Me:  What did you think of Edinburgh at night?

Him:  “Natsy Hobbitses.”

Silence.

Me:  Ah.  Umm.  Now, I see what you’ve done there with the halfling anagram but I don’t think you should Godwin the post at this stage.

Him:  What?

Ent bling courtesy of QVC.

Me:  Nothing.  Let’s move on.

Him:  I thought we were going to link this in with Peter Capaldi?  Why are you asking me about Edinburgh?

Me:  Nicely done.  It was a shame that the Socks weren’t allowed to do their new routine based on the Twelfth Doctor3.  I was wondering if any Whonatics would walk out if they didn’t do it, but luckily that didn’t happen.

Him:  I think that was more of a joke that you made than something you were actually worried about.

Me:   Quite possibly.

Him:  I thought as much.

Me:  I’m glad they drew attention to it though.  And explained what they weren’t allowed to say.  Kind of gets us talking about Doctor Who again.

Him:  ZOMBIE SOCKS!

Me:  And we’re off-road again.  Would you like to explain what a Zombie Sock is?

Him:  It’s a sock with holes in it.

'eck of a climb.

Me:  Fans have started turning up with their own Socks tribute socks.  We were going to make some, but the spares all had holes in and would’ve looked-

Him:  Like zombie socks. 

Me:  “And that’s all the weather.”

Long pause.

Me:  By which I mean…   Um…  There was an excellent atmosphere in the theatre.  The audience were up for it and the show’d sold out -

Him:  Ninety seats seemed a bit random.

Me:   Yeah, but it’s not a bad amount of people to have on your side.

Him:  That wouldn’t even unlock the unlimited rice pudding level.

Me:  I think you’re right.  Something else that I thought helped was that the speakers were set to a decent volume and that gave the songs an extra push.   

Him:  It was loud last time.  Well, last time for me.  

Me:  Yeah – and that was a great show.

Him:  Did you not like this one as much?

Me:  I thought that this one, Socks in Space, was the best performance that I’ve seen by them to date.  They were obviously enjoying it -

Him:  You could see it on their faces.

Me:  Definitely.  And I didn’t mean that the previous shows weren’t great – they’ve been consistently excellent – but last night’s performance had a bit of an edge to it.  It was buzzing and – well, this is going to sound strange – but I thought it was a bit punky.  And that’s a massive compliment.

Him:  I couldn’t smell anything.

Photo of poster: contractual obligation.

Me:  Ha!  No, what I mean is that they really went for it – and the audience were so into it and enthusiastic I think it gave them a bit of a lift.  The Socks knocked it out of the park and onto a different level.  To mix an analogy.  And there was a lot of new stuff, which surprised me because it must’ve been pretty fresh.

Him:  The sell-by date was not 2012.

Me:  Oh, very much so.  There’s a new song about the history of comics which I thoroughly loved.  It was so fast and tight – ahh.  Smashing. 

Him:  I know a song that sounds very similar.  It’s very fast and educational.

Mystery Voice:  Does it help you learn the different elements of the periodic table?

Me:  That’s the one!  I remember when you sat me down and sang the whole Element Song at me –

Him:  You used to play it at me.

Me:  If I told you who introduced me to Tom Lehrer, you’d think I was bluffing.

Him:  Was it Tom Lehrer?

Me:  Ha!  No.  It was the lovely Chris Bell.

Him:  Who’s he?

Me:  He’s a she.  Makes a cameo appearance in The Adventures of Luther Arkwright.

Him:  Never heard of it.

Me:  Wait until you’re a bit older.  She’s behind Rose at the Battle of London in what was then the second volume - the one with the Alan Moore introduction.  Chris is someone I feel genuinely privileged to have met - in many ways this blog wouldn't exist if it weren't for her.  Oddly enough, Valkyrie Press published Redfox too.  But you’ll still have to wait for the payphone story…  Oh!  I keep forgetting to mention Kick-Ass 2.4  Did you like the improv?

Him:  Yeah.

Me:  I felt bad about suggesting Space Precinct.

Him:  I’d never heard of it.

Me:  It was a single-season Gerry Anderson series that was probably only watched by me and the makers of Farscape.  The Socks recovered well.

Him:  Blake’s 7?

Me:  I didn’t suggest that one.  Is that with or without an apostrophe?

Him:  Without.

Me:  Ah, I’ve probably typed it wrong then.

Him:  Well you can go back and fix it.

Me:  I bet I forget.  I think it’s supposed to be pronounced “Blakenoapostrophesssssseven”.

The Him stares at me, making a face like a camel watching Question Time.

Me:   And the David Bowie song – it’s spot-on -

The Mystery Voice starts singing the song in question.  You’ll have to imagine.5

Me:  -and layered like you wouldn’t believe.  I think you start off laughing ‘til you cry and end up crying ‘til you laugh.

Him:  Yeah.

Me:  How many stars are we giving this then?

 

Him:  Ten.  What ranking system are we using?

Me:  Out of five.  No halves.

Him:  So my ten doesn’t work then?

Me:  Ten out of five?

Him:  I don’t think that’s allowed.

Me:  The universe’ll probably do something to rectify it.

Him:  It might.

Me:  Five stars?

Him:  Fine.

Me:  And we got to meet the Socks’ manager, Mr Sutherland, afterwards. 

Him:  Yeah, and we got shirts.

Me:  You high-fived the Socks.

Him:  I shook them by the head three times.

Me:   Your hands didn’t smell of socks this time.

Him:  No.  But I did wash them.

Me:  Oh – almost forgot – remember when the doorbell rang at the start of the Socks’ set?

Him:  Have you thought of something to say here?

Me:  I hope so.  Do you know who was at the door?

Him:  Was it us with the Borders doorbell?

Me:  Oo – that’s an obscure reference.

Him:  I don’t think it is.

Me:  That’s because you’re pretty good on our continuity.  No, the Sock in the kilt at the door was actually a time-traveller.

Him:  So, you haven’t thought of anything to say here then?

Me:  Wait for it.  The Sock in the kilt at the door was actually a time traveller from the show I saw in Cardiff...

Long pause.  Like a polar bear.

Him:  Really?

Me:  Yeah.  Because that’s where he headed back to after he appeared.

Him:  But he headed forward.  So it hasn’t happened yet.

Me:  Time-travel’s touchy.  It’s worse than tracking.

Him:  Is it worse than cobbles?

Me:  Easily. 

Him:  At least you can fly with Cobbles.

Pause.

Me:  So, in conclusion then?

Him:  It was the bestest–

Me:  “Bestest”?

Mystery Voice:  Don’t write ‘bestest’.  He’s not three.

Me:  Ha!  I’d like to quote the brief review I tweeted after the Cardiff show because I think it’s still pertinent.  Would that be alright?

Him:  If you’d like to.

Me:  I would.

Him:  I don’t know what to say, other than that I want to sleep.

Me:  So, ten out of five?

Him:  I don’t think the Law will allow that.

Me:  We’re looping now, back to Cal-Hab. Why not draw a rating?

Him:  I have.

Drum roll.

Me:  Further frenetic fiesta from the frantic footwear - phenomenal!

Him:

  

   

1

August 3 2011.
The Mystery Voice and myself get to see Richard Herring and Stewart Lee performing at The Stand in Edinburgh.  If it wasn’t for the gap between the two performances, it’d be a Fist of Fun reunion show.

July 12 2013. 

Half of us are onstage in Cardiff as part of my old band’s final farewell gig.  It’s subtitled The Beast Must Die – named after the Amicus werewolf classic.  I’m sure you’re both familiar with it, so we won’t dwell.  It’s the hottest day of the year so far.  The venue’s packed – the lights are burning – and by the time the Beast’s actually dispatched even the walls are sweating. 

July 13 2013.

Chapter Arts Centre tonight. It’s the Cardiff Comedy Festival and the Socks are performing.  It’s the hottest day of the year so far, again, but the room’s air-conditioned.  The Socks try some new material.  I get to shout “Doctor Who” when the Sock not in the kilt asks for science-fiction titles.  It’s not a bad attendance but there’s something missing from the room – it’s hard to say what. 

August 4 2013.

The Doctor reveals he’s going to be played by Peter Capaldi now.  The sell-out audience are divided but it’s hardly Dylan going Industrial.  That night, in Edinburgh, the Socks perform the first Malcolm Tucker/Who mashup.  The performance is recorded, goes viral and ends up in the Guardian, next to the paper’s new fan-fiction section. 

August 5 and 6 2013.

I rewatch The Thick of It.  The fifth episode of the third series features Malcolm Tucker being rude to a Radio 5 producer played by Sara Pascoe. 

August 8 2013. 

Baconface, the mythical Canadian comedian, causes a flurry in porcelain by walking offstage at the Stand in Edinburgh.  At first the audience think it’s part of the act, but when they’re asked to leave, a penny the size of the Batcave drops.  Baconface is revealed to be Stewart Lee and angry articles begin to pop up.  Personally, I still think it’s part of the act. 

August 15 2013.

 The Mystery Voice and myself are back in Edinburgh for our bi-annual This Morning With Richard Not Judy ‘reunion’.  We start at The Stand with a recording of Richard Herring’s daily podcast.  The great man himself seems a little out of sorts – he puts this down to staying up later than usual the night before.  His first guest is Paul Foot (played by Tom Chadbon) who hasn’t aged a day since his aggro-art days.  Being accused of being both a cannibal and a werewolf is always going to run deep so it’s nice to see he’s almost recovered.  Next up is a local comedian from Australia - he’s not on long and his jokes are fine but we let him down as an audience.  Sean Hughes comes on and we improve in our audience duties a bit.  By the time the show’s over I’m baffled.  Something was missing, but I can’t put a digit on anything solid. 

The third Stand is an oven disguised as a comedy venue.  Stewart Lee runs through two shows from the third series of his Comedy Vehicle and points out that audiences often need to put a lot more effort in than they expect to.  Afterwards he signs the Dodgem Logic I’ve brought along.  He looks genuinely surprised and shakes my hand.  I leave, feeling I’ve at least made an effort to do my part.

The final show of the day is performed by Sara Pascoe and it’s excellent.  She works her way through a variety of thought experiments and philosophical questions in an elegant and – ultimately – stunning way.  Stewart Lee does a similar deconstruction of How Comedy Works, but turns the façade around to show the process as an exploded diagram, pointing out how easy it is to kibosh if the grease the audience provide is missing.  Sara Pascoe shows us what looks like the façade and highlights aspects we always suspected were there, interspersed with delicate moments of gentle venom.  She guides us into a cave and we laugh at the dancing shadows flickering on the wall.  It’s a bravura performance – and it’s damn clever.  Sara Pascoe makes us laugh at these shadow puppets whilst pointing out that they merely prove reality is consensual.

The performer dictates how reality will be working for the next hour or so and, to paraphrase Bill Hicks, the audience then take the ride.  After all, that’s what the ticket allows you to do.

And that’s the Truth. 

There are no facts, only interpretations. 

- Nie(t)zsche (after Pascoe) 

Welcome to our blog. 

2.  An ongoing state of affairs that’s a bit weird seeing as this is a blog that pretends to be about Doctor Who. 

3.  Nope, we’re still a 12 rating.  The Capaldi Routine is amazing, but after the controversy it’d be like throwing cheese on a fire.  Even with our honour system. 

4. 

Kick Ass 2 review (radio edit) 

A superhero film rather than a film that happens to be about superheroes,

 
Kick Ass 2 review (Old Fart mix)

The original Kick Ass came out of the darkness with little warning. It was a tabloid-baiting sugar-rush of a movie, cascading with unexpected colour and profane enthusiasm.  The writing sang, the emotional beats were nearly perfect and the casting was spot-on – Nicolas Cage’s possession by Adam West certainly helped.  It’s just a shame that – actors aside – no-one involved with this foetid disaster managed to find the time to rewatch the original, just went along with their vague memories, somehow dragging Heathers into the mudpit along the way.  Apparently filmed on a backlot and totally wasting excellent actors, this is really, really bad.  And I don’t mean that in a good way.

The dialogue is largely leaden and predictable.  Hit Girl’s character arc is largely the same as Carrie White’s - which is interesting.  There’s also a distracting number of Meaningful Stares.

The tone of the film is misjudged totally – but this time round the source material (Kick Ass 2 and Hit-Girl) has similar issues – and we’re faced with a tedious retread of Your Favourite Moments from the first film with Added Offence, because that’s what Da Kids want.  The cynical hints at the gut-wrenching musical moments of John Murphy that threaded through the original are particularly annoying.  The music in general is all over the place – the eclectic compilation album feel of the first film’s soundtrack is noticeable by its absence this time around.   

Ultimately, this is a cover version of a (flawed) floor-filler, with all the subtlety and nuances missed in favour of turning everything up in the hope that a new West-Side Story will somehow appear and spray cash like racing driving champagne.  What actually emerges is more like a hasty golem constructed of grey riverbed clay.  It leans forward, stretching its maw wide open to entertain us and a monotonous vowel sound retches out, rising in volume as it bangs its filthy fists against the floor (mostly in time to be fair).  It’s desperate to be liked, but it shouldn’t exist.

And it can’t dance for toffee.  

Kick Ass 2 review (Twitter mix) 
Sound/fury/idiot/nothing.  I’m with Jim on this.  Shark Sandwich.

5.