'The Legend of Springheel'd Jack' - Episode One: 'The Terror of London' A Review

The Springheel Saga began several years ago, with the three-part series, 'The Strange Case of Springheel'd Jack'. Written by Robert Valentine and Gareth Parker, it was an exciting romp through Victorian London, combining action, humour, and penny-dreadful horror with genuine factual elements of the Springheel'd Jack mystery. The series was a complete success, enough so that old Jack has reared his fiendish head once again with a brand new series, under the banner of 'The Legend of Springheel'd Jack'....

 

Rather wisely, 'The Legend of Springheel'd Jack's opening episode, grandly titled 'The Terror of London', picks up seven years after the original series ended. The legend of Jack has taken England by storm, and there are accounts of his sightings all over the country. He is less a figure of out-and-out terror now, and more an interesting mystery, being depicted on stage as an icon of curiosity; in penny-dreadful horror stories; and even Punch and Judy shows! By having this gap of seven years, writers Parker and Valentine have been able to, if you will, recreate the legacy of Springheel'd Jack, reaffirming who he is, and reintroducing us to Jonah Smith, and his obsessive quest to seek out Jack. This helps to draw in new listeners who may not have had the chance to hear series one, but also to present long-term fans with a different slant to the story. It works magnificently.

'The Terror of London' begins with James M. Rymer, played with chirpy enthusiasm by John-Holden White, regailing us with his encounter of Jack. In a stroke of utter genius, Rymer just happens to be the real-life author of the classic horror stories 'Varney the Vampire' and 'Sweeney Todd'. Rymer was also a journalist, and so his love of horror, and journalistic curiosity, are used to drag the listener into the murky depths of the Victorian underworld. With Rymer as our guide through this new chapter of the Jack saga, the writers have fully embraced all the elements of the classic Victorian horror story, in a shameless love-letter to the long-distant past.

Parker and Valentine truly go to town with Rymer's narration, such glorious phrases as, “That filthy Venice of drains” and “...black blood through a diseased heart” painting a truly ghastly scene for a midnight murder – the murder of Maria Davis, in fact. Said to be Springheel'd Jack's only fatality, Maria's death kicks open the story proper, and with it, a spiralling web of intrigue and mystery, that 'The Terror of London' only begins to touch upon. This is a three-part series too, and you'll be left gasping for more at the end of this episode, I can assure you!
 

By leaving a gap of seven years, when we return to Jonah Smith, the hero of the original 'Jack' saga, we see a much darker, more solitary figure. Jonah Smith is obsessed with discovering, and capturing Springheel'd Jack, not just because he's a detective, but also due to a personal vendetta with the mysterious demon of the night. Actor Christopher Finney has taken care to retain the essence of Jonah Smith, but inflected him with a darker nature, and it works as a nice contrast to White's almost bumbling Rymer when they meet early on in the play. By pairing Smith and Rymer together a while later, we get a nice little double-act that carries the episode, and highlights the different elements of their characters. Rymer, the wide-eyed, excitable journalist experiencing everything for the first time; Smith, the brooding, melancholy investigator who's seen it all before.
 

However, Jonah's fire is truly reignited by the return of Charlotte Fitzrandolph, portrayed magnificently by Jessica Dennis. Charlotte turns up out completely out of the blue, with a huge clue as to where Springheel'd Jack might be hiding, and a reason as to why he might have been seen all over the country. This pushes the story into a very specific direction, as Jonah goes hunting for Jack, and ends up bumping once again into Rymer. It's Rymer, more than anybody else, who helps Jonah Smith to look inside himself, as much as Jonah himself might not like to admit it, and it's Rymer who starts to pull the old Jonah back into being. It doesn't last...

'The Legend of Springheel'd Jack' is all about the legacy of old Jack, and hearing him represented as the villain in Punch & Judy is both amusing and slightly unnerving. As listeners, we know that he is out there still, and beneath all the humour throughout this episode, there is a deadly undercurrent of something sinister lurking behind the laughter. But where does the darkness hide? Who is Elijah P. Hopcraft, Andrew Shepard's mysterious Punch & Judy man? Is there more to the magician Cuthbert Leach, played by the underrated and utterly charming Nicholas Parsons, and his fiery assistant Lizzie (Josephine Timmins)? The beautifully constructed script unfolds at its own pace, and the unpredictability in which it does so means that that something unexpected is always around the corner.

 

This is never truer than in the final ten minutes of the piece, which ramp up the tension until the final shocking moments, which completely change the direction of the series. Whether you've already heard the first series, or are a newcomer to the 'Springheel Saga', there is no denying that 'The Terror of London' packs an almighty punch right at the very end, with the mother of all cliffhangers!

Witty, funny, and immensely enjoyable, 'The Terror of London' is a perfect opener to a brand new series of adventures for Jonah Smith. Embracing all the facets of the Victorian age, from penny-dreadful writers to Punch & Judy shows, as well as combining the fact and fiction of Springheel'd Jacks' exploits, this is a must for anyone with a thirst for 19^th century intrigue. With a perfect script, excellent performances, and glorious sound design, alongside a superb musical score, 'The Terror of London' is an all-out success. Not to be missed!

 

 

 

Follow the exploits of Springheel'd Jack:

FACEBOOK: www.facebook.com/TheSpringheelSaga

TWITTER: www.twitter.com/springheelWTC

AVAILABLE FROM: www.wirelesstheatre.co.uk

 

The Piper's Lament - A Review

For the last five decades that 'Doctor Who' has been entertaining us, it has provided us with a host of memorable companions. Arguably one of the most popular of these has to be highlander Jamie McCrimmon, portrayed brilliantly by Frazer Hines. Jamie was a very loyal companion, and the relationship his character shared with Second Doctor, Patrick Troughton, is still one of the greatest partnerships in 'Doctor Who' history.
 

Of course, Jamie's final moments with the Doctor, echoed 40 years later when a similar fate befell Donna Noble, saw the many memories of his adventures in the TARDIS get erased without remorse. Although Hines would return several times to 'Doctor Who' in future years, these appearances would always be set within the time-frame of his travels with the Second Doctor (erm, more or less...see SEASON 6B). We were never given a chance to discover what happened next to Jamie, or if he ever rediscovered his lost past. Until now....

'The Piper's Lament' is Jamie's story. Although legal issues forbid the audio to mention Jamie by name, author David J Howe cleverly works this into the actual story, adding to the mystery, and the final, emotional climax of the piece. It is, essentially, a one-man play in audiobook format, told from the viewpoint of the nameless Piper, in a cosy highland pub. Hines is no doubt an expert at the audio format through his work with the Target readings and Big Finish, and his performance here balances nicely between explanation and emotion. It's obvious to the ear that Hines is relishing the material that he has been provided with, and he rises to the occasion admirably. Due to the set-up of the drama, he is very conversational in his approach, and thanks to the careful direction of Sam Stone, you have a genuine impression of sitting with him in a corner of a pub, listening to him telling you his story.

The script itself is gorgeous, too. Essentially designed to give the character of Jamie a proper moment of rediscovery, it manages to be far, far more than just a string of fan-pleasing references. As fun as a full 60-minutes of references to Ice Warriors, Cybermen, and giant crabs would be, Howe instead focusses on Jamie's pre-and post- TARDIS life. Without giving too much away, it's these parts of the story that genuinely break your heart, without needing to rely on anything we might have seen on television. Combining a beautiful script with an understated reading from Hines, we are made to care about the characters Howe himself has created, and there are a few death scenes that are genuinely striking and shocking. They linger in the memory long after, just like the gentle, melancholy score of haunting bagpipes lamenting throughout. These moments are peppered very nicely with touches of warmth and humour, that do nothing to disturb the atmosphere created by Stone's direction.

Of course, this being a play about a nameless piper remembering his past, there are plenty of extremely fan-pleasing sequences that will have lovers of the Troughton era squealing with delight. They are used sparingly, adding to their impact, and they help reinforce the fact that the piper is our Jamie McCrimmon, still battling on after all these years...

'The Piper's Lament' reaches a touching, heartfelt conclusion, that ties up the story of Jamie, and at the same time points us to the future. It is, absolutely, a love-letter to the character of Jamie McCrimmon, and perhaps to Frazer Hines himself, but a carefully constructed letter that manages not to gush. It's a celebration of Jamie, not just of his TARDIS adventures, but of his character, and of his own personal history.

Listen to 'The Piper's Lament' by a crackling fire, with a bowl of hot soup and glass of whisky. Now that winter is here, what more could you possibly want? Put your feet up, close your eyes, and catch up with an old, old friend....

Desperately Seeking Susan Foreman - A Review

 

Desperately Seeking Susan Foreman, by Richard Kirby, is a quaint, unusual, and very personal, voyage into the world of Doctor Who, with a unique anchor that certainly hasn't been done before. This anchor comes in the form of a challenge the author set himself for Children In Need, to try and collect as many autographs of the surviving female companions of the Doctor as possible. However, the actual focus is more on Kirby's own relationship with this barmy old show that we love, and manages to be both enticing to the seasoned Whovians among us, as well as a neat introduction for the beginners.

 

 

Starting at the very beginning, Kirby straight away mixes both fact and personal opinion into a cocktail that could have been quite tiresome. How many times have we read the synopsis and the background detail of the first ever episode, for instance? But thanks to the authors breezy, informal style, it manages to be a very easy read, in the best possible way. Kirby peppers the text with amusing side-notes and quips that lighten the mood, and he can't resist observing the connections between actors and the other shows they have appeared in, particularly soap operas. Let's put it this way, any Coronation Street fans out there will be very happy with this, and every reader is guaranteed to learn something new!

 

As well as briefly running through the entire history of Doctor Who, Kirby also includes some nice reviews of certain stories (particularly ones featuring actresses he has aquired signed photographs from). He isn't afraid to be honest, poking fun at the stories he reviews in a way only a dedicated fan could. And that is one of the joys of this book. Richard Kirby, like every other Doctor Who fan out there, does have opinions, and you won't agree with all of them. Sometimes you'll be nodding along with a smile on your face, other times spluttering into your tea (“'The Faceless Ones' is his favourite story, WHAT?”). And that can only be a good thing. I particularly enjoyed Kirby's review of 'The Ambassadors of Death'. Just read the authors own take on how Reegan gets into a top-secret place in a bakery van. Priceless!

As for the autographs, Kirby provides some very nice photos of his achievements, with a little summary of each actresses career. Beyond this, there isn't that much else on this particular topic, save for the introduction and a summary at the end. I was still rather amused by his attempt to get Bonnie Langford's autograph, which didn't go entirely to plan! And the whole idea of the autographs is a marvellous framing device, that enables the author to bring all eras of Doctor Who together.

 

It's also evident that Kirby hasn't seen much of late-80's Doctor Who. His summary of this particular era of the series relies very much on the critical reception of these stories, rather than his own. To the old-school fans out there, this could be seen as a little disappointing, but it still offers a nice insight for newcomers to the show. And as I have repeatedly stated, this is Kirby's own take on Doctor Who, so he is allowed to pretty much do as he likes!

All in all, Desperately Seeking Susan Foreman is a charming piece of work, that manages to both appeal to us sad old fans, as well as introducing beginners to the mad world of Doctor Who. It's a funny book, which branches off into anecdotes, connections and jokes with pleasing regularity. And the idea of using autographs as a framing device works beautifully in its favour. As an autograph collector myself, I can only imagine that it will inspire others to do the same. And the fact that Kirby did it for charity is simply marvellous.

If you're after something that will entertain, educate, and inspire you to re-watch certain episodes of your favourite television show, look no further than this. You might not agree with all of Richard Kirby's opinions, but you will certainly be laughing along with him. A splendid read that does even more than it says on the blurb! I hope there is more to come from this man (spoiler: There is!).

*

 

Join Richard's journey HERE

 

Richard Kirby's next 'Desperately Seeking...' project - France Gall

The Doctors: The First Doctor (William Hartnell)

William Hartnell. Doctor Number One - The original, you might say! The First Doctor didn't crash, waltz, or explode onto our screens like his successors did. This Doctor wandered in mysteriously from the fog, on a dark November night. A strange old man wearing a scarf and an enigma.

 

 

 

 

Initially, and famously, rather unpleasant, Hartnell's incarnation of the Doctor (who wouldn't be revealed as a Time Lord for another seven years) was only a reluctant hero. Perhaps the Doctor and his granddaughter Susan's exile from their home planet was what made the old man so untrusting of humans, or maybe he felt that he was superior to them. Driven by his own selfish desires and whims, it took the two school teachers he kidnapped to break through the tough, cold exterior to the warmth and charm within him.  It is Ian and Barbara who are responsible for giving us the Doctor we know and love today.

 

 

 

The First Doctor is often described as a 'grumpy old man'. While this is the case to an extent, even at the very beginning of the series, there was far more to him than that. William Hartnell gave the Doctor depth, magic, and mystery. He is both irascible and hypocritical, even dangerous, and as he began to warm towards his human friends, his mischievous, whimsical side began to shine through. In fact, every single aspect of the Doctor's future lives can be traced back to the First Doctor - from his romantic nature (see his love for Cameca in 'The Aztecs'), to his desire for justice ('The Dalek Invasion of Earth'), and his delight as he explores the wonders of the Universe.

 

Clutching his lapels and harrumphing at his foes, the First Doctor, portrayed for three years by William Hartnell, was a citizen of the Universe, and a gentleman of the stars.

 

 

*

 

The Stubborn Old Man

 

The mountains towered upwards into the sky, like natural skyscrapers. The sun hung in the air above them, casting a comforting glow across the horizon.

"Tired Doctor?" laughed Barbara, as Ian helped her climb onto the next set of rocks.

 "Nonsense Barbara!" the elderly man snapped, wiping his forehead as he attempted to clamber further up the mountain, "I never get tired! No time for it!" He slapped Ian's hand away, violently refusing help.

 "Nothing to be ashamed of Doctor!" Ian's voice was slightly patronising, as he smiled sideways at Barbara, "Men of your age tire easily. It's natural!"

 "Rubbish Chatterton! Fit as a fiddle, that's me!"

 The Doctor was still trying to hoist himself up, breathing heavily and unsteadily.

 "Ok then. Me and Barbara will get walking, and you can catch us up!" Ian replied, as the lady tried her best to stifle her laughter. Then the two school-teachers set off, strolling further up the winding path of the mountain, leaving their stubborn friend to struggle.

Glaring furiously up at the sky, face drenched with perspiration, the Doctor released a deep sigh.

"Chesterfield, wait! I, I'm...stuck..."

 

Cory John Eadson, 2013

4 - A Tribute to the Fourth Doctor

 

As you may already be aware, I had the pleasure of discovering I had won a poetry competition earlier this month. The idea was basically to write a poem about Doctor Who. My initial idea was to try and summarize the essence of the Doctor as a whole, but then I started to think about making it more personal. Instead of the Doctor as a man, how about focussing on a specific incarnation? And how about making it the Fourth Doctor - he was my first, after all.

 

And so,  rather than basing the poem in the deep depths of the Universe, I set it in a quiet little café, in wet old England. An intimate encounter with the bohemian wanderer - Tom Baker. Because seeing the Doctor in space is one thing, but seeing him in your town is quite another altogether.

 

I hope you enjoy it. I've titled it, rather simply, '4'...

He's sat there in the tea shop:

An unravelled yarn

Of brooding eccentricity.

A long scarf seems to wrap,

Like a woollen, multi-coloured snake,

Around his body a dozen times;

Almost as un-tameable

As the forest of curls

Atop his time-weary head.

He contemplates a mug of tea,

Elbow on table, chin in hand,

His wide eyes two pools of deep blue.

He doesn't seem to notice me staring -

His mind no doubt on other things.

I can almost hear ancient cogs

Grinding and whirring inside that mercurial mind:

Thoughts of distant worlds and falling stars,

And the spiralling chaos

Of the infinite vortex of Time.

I take a sip of my tea -

It's cold now,

Perhaps as chilled as me,

To be in the presence of this man.

A man who acts as a mighty pillar

Holding up the foundations of the Universe,

Now sitting in a small café on a wet day,

In the corner of the Galaxy known as England.

As I contemplate my own cold tea,

I barely notice him hurrying to his feet.

It isn't until he glides past

That I catch his eye -

And a rushing thrill seizes me in an instant.

As he leaves the tea shop,

His scarf flows behind him

Like the remains of a tattered, garish cloak,

And a second later the outside world has swallowed him up,

Leaving me alone with my cold tea,

The background noise of chatter, and bland muzak.

But he has left one trace of his existence,

For next to my mug sits a yellow jelly baby,

Stealthily deposited for my delectation.

“Thank you,” I say, mostly to myself,

Snatching up and devouring the tasty sweet,

Unable to suppress a wide smile.

“Thank you, Doctor...”

 

Cory John Eadson, 2013

50 Reasons Why 'Time Crash' Is The Most Perfect 8 Minutes of 'Doctor Who' Ever

#9 "Hands Free..."

 

Among all of the kisses to the past blown throughout it's seven minutes, Time Crash pays a little attention to the Fifth Doctor's lack of Sonic Screwdriver.

 

"I'm fine," Davison mutters, without even glancing up from the console, when Tennant offers him the use of his own Sonic.  It doesn't even occur to the Fifth Doctor to use it, having been without his trusty device for a good while now, ever since that nasty business with the Terilepils.

 

But what does the moment add to the context of the story? The honest answer? Bugger all! But, as with so many elements of the episode, it shows yet another subtle contrast between the two Doctors. Here's the Tenth Doctor, using his Sonic, relying on his Sonic to get up to all sorts of mischief, never mind applying it to get out some sticky situations! The Fifth Doctor, on the other hand, just soldiers on with whatever he can find at hand. And what's more, he manages to save the day! (OK, sort of. Ish).

 

Above all though, this moment is just a nod to the past that is beautiful in it's pointlessness. It's just there: A tiny moment that brings with it a host of subtle character contrasts and summaries, with only a throwaway line. And isn't that brilliant?

 

 

 

*

 

For the previous Time Crash entries (SO FAR):

#8 'That Rubbish Beard'

#7 Belgium

#6 High Five!

#5 Murray Gold

#4 David Tennant

#3 Peter Davison

#2 Graeme Harper

#1 Steven Moffat

 

 

 

 

 

 

50 Years...

Earlier last month, a poetry competition was announced for fans of Doctor Who - All they had to do was write a poem based on the greatest television series in the world. I am overjoyed and still a bit surprised to say that I actually won the competition. But there were some excellent entries, not least from some very close friends of mine!

Neil Baird was one of the entrants, and here is the poem he submitted, along with an introduction by Neil himself. Neil has also supplied with some other excellent pieces that I will share over the coming weeks. Here's Neil...

November 23rd, 1963 saw a new program appear on the BBC Saturday teatime schedule. Its name? Doctor Who. 2013 is its 50th year.

 



While on, and sadly for a while, off TV, its fans have loved and remained loyal to the show. Eleven great and talented actors have played the Doctor, with number 12 arriving Christmas 2013. God bless them all.

 

This poem is my tribute to 50 years of my favourite series.

50 Years

 

November 1963 and Kennedy was killed. At 5.15 the very next day, British children were really thrilled.

 For they had something different. Something that was new. A children's TV show called Doctor Who.

 The story of an alien who travels through Time and Space.
Entertaining but educational. That should be its case.

 Showing science in the future and history in the past.
But the arrival of the Daleks changed its genre fast.

 It became a sci-fi show with monsters at every turn and being really scared is all kids would ever learn.

 Through the 1960's it was shown in black and white, but that didn't stop the Daleks who scared every child on site.

 William Hartnell was the first Doctor, the original you might say. He started off the character that's still on TV today.

 Then the Doctor, he went and changed. Pat Troughton took the role. A very different Doctor with a much more kinder soul.

 Through the 1970's the show was strongly run. Now it was made in colour, it couldn't be outdone.

 Jon Pertwee was the Doctor and he really was tip-top,
With the Brigadier and UNIT by his side there was no invasion they couldn't stop.

 Then three became four and Tom Baker took the part. With his long scarf and floppy hat, he was a hit right from the start.

 Tom was the most remembered Doctor, one of the best we ever had, and when he left in eighty-one fans were really sad.

 At the end of the 1980's the show sadly came to a stop, after three more and seven great Doctors, the TARDIS got the chop.

 The 1990's and things for the Doctor looked bleak. No series for him to be in, no cliff-hanger every week.

 The series became ridiculed, many saw it as childish pap, with really wobbly sets and monsters made from bubble-wrap.

 The companions were seen as wimpy, full of screams and squeals, who'd run away from monsters while in two inch pink high heels.

 Eventually a movie was made and though in the UK it went down well, though sadly not in America where it just refused to sell.

 Finally in the millennium the Doctor finally came back onto the air. Now a new generation love it, once again kids really care.

 There was a fine actor at that TARDIS door. Chris Ecceleston was the Doctor. Then he wasn't anymore.

 The Daleks have returned as well and so have the Cybermen. For five years they battled David Tennant, playing Doctor number Ten.

 Then Ten became Eleven and Eleven was old school. He wore a tweedy jacket and said bow ties were cool.

 

River Song was a huge part of this Doctors life. Some say they are lovers, others say she's his wife.

 Matt Smith was only 26 but his performance mirrored Pats. The eleventh Doctor wore a bow tie and an array of different hats.

 Now the 50th anniversary approaches, with a new Doctor about to start. Peter Capaldi has been cast and fans can't wait to see him in the part.

 We have had 50 years of episodes, with many more to do, so come November all the fans will shout... Happy Birthday Doctor Who.

 

 

By Neil Baird, 2013

 



The Twelfth Doctor....Who?

 

So, in Doctor Who's fiftieth year, we will be getting a new Doctor! Of course, despite many false starts and rumours, the announcement of Doctor #12 has yet to be made.

There have, as usual, been numerous rumours in the press about who the new Doctor may be, but the newspapers and journalist usually take ounces of truth and spread it thick, adding their own opinions into the mix until it spirals into, essentially, blatant lies. What we do know, 100%, is that we are getting a new Doctor on Christmas Day. And that is it.

The last time Steven Moffat had to choose a Doctor, he had very clear expectations as to who he wanted. Not in terms of a specific actor, more a type of actor. He wanted somebody older, mid-40's, or roundabouts. He ended up casting the youngest Doctor ever in Matt Smith! Will Moffat have similar thoughts this time around? Will he, this time, try and find that older Doctor he wanted back in 2009, before Matt Smith ruined everything by being so brilliant? Or does he like the idea of somebody young and wild controlling the TARDIS?

Will the Doctor even be male? The idea of Time Lords changing their sex is now officially canon, and a great many actors and actresses have discussed the idea of the new Doctor being female, even more than before. But should 'he' be female? I find it hard to believe that the production team would decide automatically to make the next Doctor a woman, but less hard to believe that if a lady auditioned for the role, and bettered her male counterparts, then she would be cast. A lady Doctor would certainly make things interesting, but the idea, the novelty of him now being a her would have to be dealt with swiftly, otherwise, ten episodes in and the Doctor still going, “I'm a woman now, women are cool!” would be awfully tiresome.

So, who would I like to play the Doctor? I would certainly prefer an older actor this time around, and perhaps somebody I have never heard of. Somebody who can fully embrace the character of the Doctor, in the same way that Matt Smith did. There is a lot of controversy about certain actors at the moment, in particular, Daniel Rigby, of the BT ads. But I have given up saying who I want, or what I want. Because the last time I did that, we got somebody who totally confounded my expectations, and he was excellent. So if the next Doctor is another youth, I will have to put my trust in Moffat to find the right youth. He did it in 2009.

Whatever happens, 50 years after Doctor Who's conception, we are getting a brand new Doctor. And that is still the most exciting thing ever, whoever he or she may be.

'Of Ghouls and Men' - Album Review

Formed in 2010 by Liv Decay and Oly 'Sinnister' Sinn, Raizing Hell (whose line-up is completed by Mr. Zombie on guitar and Demented Vlash on bass) are finally ready to unleash their first full-length album to the world. Titled 'Of Ghouls and Men', it is a worthy addition to the new wave of horror punk, and something very different.

The album goes for the jugular right from the off. There are no lengthy guitar solos or moments of deep introspection here. This is straight-up, pounding shock'n'roll, with the spirit of old-school punk and a vocalist who could almost be described as an evil Dolly Parton!

'We Are Raizing Hell' opens the album, and is a great self-referential tune in the style of Motorhead's 'We Are Motorhead'. Kicking off with some seriously frantic drumming, the song explodes with Mr. Zombie's razor-sharp riffage and the thundering bass of Demented Vlash in a way that the 'Head would most certainly be proud of. Liv Decay rasps through the song like she's channelling Lemmy Kilmister himself, although her trademark hollar is present and correct.

'(Do It) All The Way' is next, a vicious edge to the riffs here that is reminiscent of the Murderdolls. Liv too, manages here to sound like a female Wednesday 13, although she switches to the softer melodies with ease, lending the tune a welcome depth. This is another instant of the band taking their influences, and bending them to suit their own style, instead of just copying and imitating.

'Love To Hate' is a schizophrenic combination of bluesy beats and insane speed. The juxtaposition emphasises the heavier moments as well as the softer, more haunting parts of the song, threading the elements together rather beautifully.

It is at this point that I started to consider the bands' name – 'Raizing Hell'. 'Of Ghouls and Men' is just one huge party, and the band really do live up to their name. 'Thing For Murder' is a case-in point. A modern pop-punk guitar riff and Decay's country-and-western style singing make impossible NOT to dance, especially during the chorus!

'Shining' – a special song for the band – is altogether heavier, almost metal, to begin with. Demented Vlash's shark-attack bass intro leads into some serious axe-work (look at the song title-pun intended!), before progressing into a haunting, yet catchy, tune that could easily have appeared on the Misfits' 'Famous Monsters' album! 'Shining' yet again shows the band bending their influences, shaping them around their own music, and the beautiful chorus and lyrics are an absolute must for all the horror fanatics out there! A stand-out track!

'One Way Road' is a proper highway punk anthem something to blast out when your speeding off into the sunset (or dreaming about speeding off into the sunset), while 'Terror Television's' cry of “Kill or be killed!” is a call-to arms to maniacs everywhere.

'Invasion of the Infrasluts' switches from horror to cheesy sci-fi – a foul-mouthed tyraid of lunacy with an uber-fast chorus, and terrifically old-school guitar riffs. Think the Misfits' 'Teenagers From Mars', but a hell of a lot more insane, and you're halfway there.

Call it dark-pop, anti-pop, or whatever, but 'Cemetary Bash' is a weird mix of creepy lyrics and a beautifully sung chorus that is almost Shania Twain in it's essence (not a bad thing)! Liv Decay isn't afraid to show off every facet of her amazing voice, and Oly, Mr. Zombie, and Vlash all rise to the occasion with murderous ease.

And speaking of murderous ease, just when you think the band have exhausted their potential for any more epic horror punk anthems, they give us 'Rock'n'roll For The Dead'. Essentially a country-and-western-meets-hard-rock riot, this stand-out track transcends genres in a way that horror punk has never really dared to before, and will likely have the fans in the audience jiving and grooving more than just headbanging! An absolute corker of a song!

'Of Ghouls and Men', like all parties, has to end sometime, and this album closes with flair. Not, as expected, a homage to 'Dawn of The Dead', 'Zombie Nation' is actually an attack on the mindless sheep of society, glued to reality television and following the crowd. It's about the need to be individual, to make your own way in life, and with the intense riffage, rumbling bass, rolling drums, and a big, singalong chorus, 'Zombie Nation' summarises the whole of 'Of Ghouls and Men' in three and a half minutes, and leaves you craving more!

'Of Ghouls and Men' is one hell of a debut album! Each musician approaches their instrument with confidence and skill, and Liv Decay stands apart from all the other female vocalists out there by daring to be different. Raizing Hell have a fantastic core sound, and yet they aren't afraid to experiment, and think outside the box.

'Of Ghouls and Men' wasn't made to be analysed and dissected. It was made to blow your balls off. Buy it, turn it up to 11, and have the best horror party this side of Halloween. If you like horror punk, you will LOVE this!

RAIZING HELL ARE:

Liv Decay – Vocals

Mr. Zombie – Guitar, backing vocals

Demented Vlash – Bass, backing vocals

Oly 'Sinnister' Sinn – Drums

'Of Ghouls and Men' Stand-Out Tracks:

• Thing For Murder
• Shining
• Rock'n'roll For the Dead
• Zombie Nation

Also check out:

• Thirteen Shots – Tales That Start With A Whisper
• The Misfits – The Devil's Rain

For more information, visit Raizing Hell's Official Facebook Page: Raizing Hell

Cory Eadson, 2013

'The Price of Fear' Review

This book is a must-have for any fan of horror, or, in particular, Vincent Price. It is full of fabulous stories, some well-told, some less-so, and hadme laughing out loud on several occasions.

       'The Price of Fear' is much more than an observation on Price's horror films. It takes us right back to the beginning, with some excellent anecdotes from his live stage plays and love of artwork. Of course, his relationship with horror is well-covered too! Look out for his retort during the filming of 'House of Long Shadows', when a live bat flies into the building and halts the recording!

       So, content-wise, this book is lavish. It could have been much longer. I would have liked to have read more about Price's first film with Tim Burton, on 'Vincent', and his appearance on Alice Cooper's excellent 'Welcome to My Nightmare' album. But on the whole, there is lots to love here.

       It is the editing that BADLY lets it down. Joel Eisner's love of Price is evident throughout, but the text is rife with all kinds of punctuation errors, literally on every page. Clumsy sentence structure, wrong words ('latest' instead of 'lasted', for instance), opening brackets but not closing them, erratic use (or none use) of commas and italics, and long-drawn-out full synopsis' of every film mentioned...the list goes on. Also, the picture quality on the inside photographs and images is awfully faded, making the book look cheap and scrappily produced, like a ten-year-olds fanzine instead of a credible book condoned by the man himself! Several pages even came loose in the book, enhancing the cheaply-made status of it! The book has been in the making for along time, and while I am sure Eisner and his publishers would have wanted it to be released as soon as possible, it really really REALLY could have done with a few redrafts, and an editor (there is no mention of an editor on the inside page, to my knowledge). Editing is a crucial part of the writing process, and it is the one that lets this book down.

      But if you are a Vincent Price fan, ignore all that. It will bug you, irritate you at times, but it does not prevent the enjoyment of what must have been a total labour of love for Eisner. From the excellent and beautiful foreward from Peter Cushing himself, to a final look at the Dr. Phibes films that never were, 'The Price of Fear' is well-worth a purchase. Even if it *did* need an edit!

Lordi - Tour Beast Or Not Tour Beast, A Live Review (May 11th, 2013)

 It's Saturday night, and the only place for any self-respecting metalhead or rocker to be is Nottingham's Rock City. May 11^th proved to be a riotous night of singing and headbanging, not just from the headlining act, either!

Rock City has always been my favourite gig venue. Small enough to offer an intimate atmosphere between band and fan, but big enough to give the bands and the fans ample room to play, headbang, mosh,and drink, it really is the perfect place to let loose. And my word, Saturday May 11^th, there was a hell of a lot of all of the above – with added monsters...

HOSTILE – Jay Mills (Vocals), Jack Young (Guitar), A.J. Mills (Guitar), Alex Hill (Bass), Gunga (Drums)

The opening band on tonight's bill was Hostile. A UK band heavily influenced by Pantera, Hostile are part of KK Downing (ex-Judas Priest)'s project to bring metal back to the so-called Black Country, where the genre was born. Not only did he produce their record 'Eve of Destruction', but he also wrote a song for the band – 'Addiction'. *

The band put on a solid performance, with much shredding and headbanging. Vocalist Jay Mills prowled the stage like a younger version of Phil Anselmo, while behind him, Gunga beat the shit of his drumkit. Although many Lordi fans have a love, perhaps even a preference, for old-school metal, Hostile had no problem winning over the Nottingham crowd, and provided the first sing-a-long anthem of the night, shortly after running through the excellent 'Addiction' – a well-timed rendition of the Priest classic, 'Breaking The Law'. A solid performance from a band who I expect to be hearing a lot more from, very soon...

*On a side note, bassist Alex Hill's dad is Ian Hill, the bassist for Judas Priest!

KALDEON – Alexe Mele (Lead Guitar), Marco Palazzi (Vocals), Paolo Lezzioli (bass), Tommy Nemesio (Rhythm Guitar), Massimiliano Santori (Drums), Daniele Fuligni (Keyboards) 

Kaledon, an Italian power metal band, were next on the set. The band performed as five-piece on this tour, as keyboardist Fuligni wasn't present. While this might have affected the scope of the show, it didn't hinder the band in any obvious way. They tore through a brilliant set, despite a muddy sound at the start, and gave a lively performance. Although there were a few technical issues, when Lezzioli's bass broke, the band just made a joke out of it and soldiered on.

Cut from the same cloth as Stratovarius (and there are some connections within the band) and Rhapsody, Kaledon's 30-minute set featured fast-paced, upbeat power metal tunes, providing a nice contrast to the groups on before and after them. It was a funny, ripping show that kept the audience entertained, which is no mean feat! I really hope Kaledon come back around again, maybe on their own tour, so we can appreciate them in all their glory!

LORDI – Mr Lordi (Vocals), Ox (Bass), Mana (Drums), Amen (Guitar), Hella (Keyboard)

Now it was time for the main attraction. After the stage had been set up, the lights went down, and the immortal KISS song 'God of Thunder' was blasted out of the speakers. The atmosphere was electric, and it intensified when KISS morphed into the instrumental tribute to late drummer Otus: 'Otus' Butcher Clinic'. Lordi had arrived.

After the intro, the band exploded into 'We're Not Bad For The Kids (We're Worse)', from their latest record, and all hell broke loose. Seeing Lordi live is an experience that will stay with you forever, and catching that first glimpse of them on the stage is just incredible. Ox and Amen gave it hell, while Hella's twitchy psycho-doll routine added a layer of creepiness to the metallic shenanigans. The song was held up nicely by Mana's utterly relentless drum-bashing, and Mr. Lordi himself was on fine form, screaming like a demon posessed.

New quickly gave way to classic, when the band revisited their break-through album 'The Arockalypse' for song 2 – 'Bringing Back The Balls To Rock'. Singing (shouting? Screaming? Roaring?) along to “Hail in the name of rock and roll!” on a Saturday night with Lordi is about as perfect as a gig can get. And it had only just begun!

'The Riff', the main single of 'To Beast or Not to Beast' was very well-recieved, driven by Hella's catchy keyboard theme, and the soaring guitar-work of Amen. It must be a great feeling for a band to hear people singing along to their new material as well as the older stuff. A sign that they have still got it!

'Who's Your Daddy' and 'Girls Go Chopping' follow, the latter accompanied by two PVC-clad strippers grinding sparks on stage. And that was only the start of Lordi's on-stage shenanigans. Their stage show on this tour was brilliant. We had Ox chopping off the head of a guy in a cloak, and Mr. Lordi shooting cold smoke at the crowd, or blasting water from a chainsaw water pistol (yes, really). My absolute favourite moment was during Hella's solo, though. 

She was playing a beautiful tune on the keyboard, and then she would suddenly start twitching, bashing her hand on the same note over and over. Being a toy doll, somebody had to come on stage to fix her. This happened a few times, before the technician actually removed her head! Even better, while the technician held Hella's head in his hands, we could see Hella's headless body still playing the keyboard! It was clearly done with mirrors, but it doesn't matter. It looked absolutely fabulous, and highlights just how much effort the band put into their show.

All the band members had their own solo spots. Amen had a wonderfully creepy guitar solo, with moody lighting and a big wheel spinning beside him as he shredded. Ox gave us a groovy and very heavy bass solo, while Mana did a wicked drum solo that was relentless in its intensity. I can't wait to hear what he brings to the next Lordi record!

The setlist itself was excellent, a nice mixture of old and new. 'Blood Red Sandman' was followed by 'Schizo Doll' and the slow, Sabbath-y 'Something Wicked This Way Comes', before tonight's only ballad, 'It Snows In Hell', echoed around the hall, as snow-like foam fell from the ceiling.

'I'm The Best' was another new song brought to life, and Mr. Lordi stole the show when he was given a bunch of flowers and a tiara to wear. Camp as Christmas, it was a delight to watch him giving his all as a beauty queen winner as the band played around him. Hilarious, and fun. That is the essence of a Lordi show. Fun. Aggression, headbanging, screaming...and having a bloody good time. Once 'The Devil Is a Loser' ended the main-set, I realised that the time has gone nowhere.

The final encore comprised of two classic Lordi songs, a new song, and a very special treat: 'Hulking Dynamo'. This song was supposed to be on their first ever record, which wasn't released to the world until last year, but ended up being cut. It was included as a bonus track on last year's released, and is perhaps one of the oldest and rarest Lordi songs the band have ever performed live. 

 

We then get 'Hard Rock Hallelujah', the quintessential Lordi tune, and yet another one that threatened the vocal chords. 'Sincerely With Love' came next, inciting much shouting of “Fuck you asshole!”. And finally 'Would You Love a Monsterman?', complete with the PVC-strippers eating fire, and Mr. Lordi shooting confetti into the crowd.

Saturday night's show was one of the best gigs I have ever been to. Great supporting bands, and a flawless set from the main attraction. Lordi get a lot of criticism in the press, and I just think that if they all went to see the band live, they'd shut up. Lordi are at the top of their game right now, and I know that the sky is the limit for this monster metal band. One day, the legends of shock rock will no longer be with us. On that tragic day, we will need somebody to step up and take the mantle. Lordi are absolutely that band.

11/10

*

I was lucky enough to get the chance to interview Lordi's drummer, Mana. You can hear the interview on Tuesday, May 21st, at 7PM UK Time, on Heavier Than Time! See you there!

'Tales That Start With A Whisper' - A Review

A brilliant show called Metal Evolution did an interview with Dave Mustaine, asking the Megadeth guitarist and vocalist if he still considered his band to be a 'thrash metal' band. Mustaine's reply was in the affirmative. Megadeth are a thrash metal band, he said, but we're also so much more.

The Thirteen Shots are a horror punk band. But they are so much more. Rising from the darkness to give the ancient genre of horror punk a kick up the skeletal backside, their début album, Vaudeville, gained rave reviews from all corners of the alternative music scene, including the legend that is Michale Graves (and if you don't know who he is, leave the hall. Now!).

A year later, The Thirteen Shots have released their follow-up to the 8-track attack that was Vaudeville, beautifully titled Tales That Start With a Whisper. It's a brilliant album. It's a horror punk album. And it's so much more...

The opening track, 'Death Jam 2000', kicks off with hoards of cheering fans and a grand announcement, before the music kicks off. It's a seriously catchy song, combining horror punk with 1960's rock and roll, and dare I say it, the tiniest hint of heavy metal. A fast-paced rocker that is short in length and directly acknowledges the band itself – We could be talking 'Death Jam 2000' or 'We Are Motorhead' here. Izzy's guitar really powers this tune, with a delicious driving riff. The Thirteen Shots grab you by the balls from track 1, and they don't let go!

'Zombies From The USSR' is a bonkers tune, the catchy garage-rock music backed up with some splendidly silly lyrics. It was a good choice as the album's big single, and the music video that accompanies it is brilliant too. Let's face it, we all love zombies, don't we?

'Bewitched' is a straight-up horror punk song, with a heavy bass sound courtesy of 'GMT', and frantic drumming from the ever-brilliant Chelsea. The riff, the chorus, and Johnny Rose's howling vocals invoke classic Blitzkid, with a nice Thirteen Shots twist, and a haunting dose of Gothic. 'Bewitched' is definitely a stand-out song for me, and belongs in any essential horror punk play-list.

'Psycho Jukebox' kicks things up a notch, returning to the cheeky, tongue-in-cheek swinging grooves of some of the Thirteen Shots' earlier work, combing swinging garage-rock, rock and roll, and even a dose of indie! This song should be played in every horror-punk and Goth club, at every Halloween party and event, so catchy and upbeat is it. This is the sound of a band who are having a blast, and you're invited along to their insane shenanigans! A song to dance to, and maybe kill to, as well!

'Get In My Crypt' has a heavy main riff that instantly brings to mine Graves-era Misfits...and then it all goes crazy. Just when you think you have a handle on the record, it throws you in a totally different direction. Heavier than 'Psycho Jukebox', but less melancholy than 'Bewitched', 'Get In My Crypt' is an ode to living it up on the dark side. Paying tribute to Zombina, Dracula, Zombies and all things that go bump in the night, this is a battle-cry for Horror Punks everywhere. The song also has a KILLER guitar solo, and delightful backing-vocals, and it's a wonder how any band could pack so much into two minutes and thirty-four seconds. But they pull it off admirably. Another stand-out track, another one for that 'Essential Horror Punk Play-List' I was talking about earlier.

'Nekro-Sexual' is groovy, groovy song. The lyrics are hilarious, and Johnny Rose is once again on fire here. Riffs, solos, pounding drums, and bone-shaking bass, 'Nekro-Sexual's cry of “Stomp on my balls!” will lodge itself into your head, and you will humming the tune for weeks. This album really does lay it on heavy, all killer, no filler. Fast songs, slower songs, heavy songs, softer songs, but the variety really brings it to life. Or un-life. Or [INSERT UN-DEAD PUN HERE]. You know what I mean.

I have been reviewing this album in track-list order. The final studio track of the album, 'Tales That Start With A Whisper', is more than just a beautiful title. The catchy riff (this album is chock-full of them), the Wednesday 13-esque tongue-in-cheek lyrics, the fist-pumping chorus...As you listen to the album, you choose a favourite song. And then you hear another, and you change your mind. And then you reach the end of the record and hear the title track, and you realise that the awesomeness never ends. A glorious song about the state of Vampires today, a serious issue for us proper horror fans, 'Tales That Start With A Whisper' is simply incredible. As mentioned earlier, Johnny Rose is letting out his inner Wednesday 13 where the lyrics are concerned (“They're horny old men searching for a fuck!”), but although the Thirteen Shots' influences are clear, they have their own identity, an identity that has evolved through the course of two brilliant albums and endless touring. 'Tales That Start With A Whisper', the song and the album, is a clear statement of who the Thirteen Shots are. Talented, original, and full of surprises, and more than capable of creating a record that never disappoints.

'Tales The Start With A Whisper' is a must-buy for any serious horror-punk fan, any metalhead with a love for horror, anyone really who is looking for a good time. Lyrically fantastic, musically flawless, and vocally deranged, this is one record you will want to take with you to the grave. In an age where horror punk has become rather stale and predictable, the Thirteen Shots have injected new life into this Frankenstein Monster of a genre.

The Thirteen Shots are a horror punk band. But my God, they are so much more!

STANDOUT TRACKS:

- Death Jam 2000

- Bewitched

- Get In My Crypt

- Nekro-Sexual

-Tales That Start With A Whisper

THE BAND:

Johnny Rose – Vocals

Izzy – Guitar/Backing Vocals

GMT – Bass

Chelsea - Drums

FOR FANS OF:
Raizing Hell, The Misfits, Wednesday 13, Astrovamps, Blitzkid, The Creepshow

For more from the Thirteen Shots:
www.thirteenshots.co.uk
http://horror-punks.com/profile/ThirteenShots
www.twitter.com/thirteenshotsuk

In The Sight of God - A Short Story

• Title: In The Sight of God
• Author: Cory John Eadson
• eBook: Yes

It was as if the world wasn't ending.

The Church hall glistened in the sunlight, golden rays beaming proudly through the grand arch windows. Assorted guests chattered excitedly in the polished pews, the only clue to recent catastrophes expressed by the slightly torn and tattered state of their clothes.

Hurst stood at the front of the hall before the Reverend and his stand, his head held high and proud as he gazed out at the clear blue sky. Reverend Bradshaw admired the man's courage, his bravery, and his presentation. Apart from a tiny bruise above his left eye, and a hint of stubble, Hurst looked immaculate. His black suit had neither a tear or a scuff on it, and the silver ring sitting in the palm of his right hand was as smooth and pure as the love that it embodied.

And, perhaps, the loss.

It was tradition for the best man to hold the ring, but Jake hadn't made it. In the comforting warmth of the Church Hall, Hurst thought about his late friend. Despite everything, Jake had made sure Hurst had got the ring on time, sacrificed everything for the sake of his friends' happiness. His final act of friendship would never be forgotten.

It was the absence of Jake, and the distant, constant moans and screams from outside that reminded everybody in the Church of what was happening out there in the world. But everything else was perfect. As stupid as it seemed, Hurst was almost grateful.

His wandering thoughts died away with the chatter of the guests, as the great wooden doors creaked open from behind them.

Hursts' mouth dropped open at the sight of his bride-to-be as she ended the grand hall. Her dress was as white as snow, undamaged and pure, and in hiding her feet, it gave the impression that she was gliding down the aisle. Her blonde hair shone like it was magic, and her beaming smile defied the faraway sounds of chaos from the world beyond.

As Elena floated down the aisle, Hurst noted the bouquet of vivid red roses clutched tightly to her chest. How hard they must have been to find, with the country as it was. Impossible, and beautiful. His stomach was a knot of nerves and excitement, and as Elena reached his side, he noticed her giggling. He realised it was because he was drooling, and he awkwardly wiped his mouth on his sleeve, turning a shade redder than the roses she held in her dainty hands.

Reverend Bradshaw cleared his throat, ready to begin the service. It had been agreed by everyone that the vows and ceremony would be shortened, so that everybody could move on as swiftly as possible. As he began, a wave of relief and genuine happiness washed over Hurst.

“We are gathered here today, in the sight of God, and in the face of family and friends, to join together Elena and Hurst in holy matrimony.”

Hurst took a moment to gaze around at the assembled masses who had managed to make it. Family and friends, determined to support he and Elena and maintain the traditional British stiff-upper lip, even if the world outside had gone to Hell. They'd all been through so much, lost so much, yet here they were...A tear blossomed in the corner of his eye, and he turned back to Elena.

The Reverend continued.

“Do you, Elena, take Hurst to be your lawful, wedded husband?”

“I do,” she replied, her emerald eyes flashing with love.

“And do you, Hurst, take Elena to be your lawful, wedded wife?”

There was a sudden creaking crash as the heavy church doors burst open again, tearing up the calm atmosphere. The guests screamed in their pews at the ungodly sight in the doorway, at the shuffling beast that had found its' way into the building. The creatures' dead, pupil-less eyes surveyed the scene around it, two grey arms outstretched as a rasping groan gurgled out from between a pair of rotting lips.

In a heartbeat, Hurst whipped out a handgun from the inside pocket of his suit, and blasted the creature right between the eyes. It fell dead to the ground, and a pair of men who had been standing by the doors hurriedly tossed the corpse outside.

After the ringing blast of the gunshot faded away, the guests broke out into a round of applause and cheers. Hurst smiled, and stared right back into the eyes of his beloved.

He stuffed the gun back into his pocket, and slipped the silver ring onto one of Elena's soft, beautiful fingers.

“I do,” he said, the tears in her eyes matching his own, as they embraced.

***

WEDDING TOAST: For Anna and Michael, may you have a magical wedding and a happy, exciting future together! All the best, Cory John Eadson (aka @Evermore_Evil)


JOIN THE Dark Fairy Queen Writerly Bridal Shower HERE:

http://www.inlinkz.com/wpview.php?id=261381

Rest in Peace, James Herbert

Rest In Peace, James Herbert. An expert of crafting pulpy horror, like a British Steven King, with one foot in the gory B-Movie tradition. A master of the macabre, who many have imitated, but never bettered.

69 is no age to pass away, and so soon after the beautiful drama 'The Secret of Crickley Hall', based on his novel, and the massive success he had with 'Ash'. But James Herbert has left behind a legacy of horror, and he will continue to terrify generations to come.


Thank you for the fear!

James Herbert, 1943-2013

Lovely Quote

Readers of Doctor Who Magazine will have no doubt, over the last two months, relished the excellent interview with Jon Pertwee, recorded 18 years ago but never shown in its entirety until now. The final part of the interview concludes with this inspiring message from a man who was a hero to millions. Such a beautiful quote, and so very Jon Pertwee...

"Here is a bit of advice. Don't be afraid to stand out. Don't be afraid to be memorable. Do it by being someone people can depend on, by being profressional, but don't be afraid to be yourself and make your mark. You do not have to conform. Getting a strong reputation and being someone people remember will do you more good - whatever your profession - than anything else. When people you have known or who have worked with move up the industry, them remembering you will do you more favours and provide more opportunities than anything else. Be a good chap - but be a good chap they remember. That is the trick!"

Amen, Mr Pertwee. Amen!