Charting the Amazon

Batman v Superman begins next week, but the most interesting character may not even be in the title.

Brilliant artwork by Doug Chiang showing live-action depictions
of Wonder Woman, forty years apart: Lynda Carter (left) and Gal Gadot.

I have to admit I’m going a little cold on the thought of DC's upcoming big screen spectacular. I love Henry Cavill’s Superman, (although this wasn’t the film I wanted to see him in next), and Batman is well, glowery and gravelly-voiced, and I don’t doubt Affleck could turn out to be the definitive portrayal.

But the bright spot for me is finally seeing a live action depiction of the third member of DC comic's trinity.

Gal Gadot, soon to be seen as the first big screen Wonder Woman

As usual, I don’t have any comic book fan credentials to speak of - to me and possibly most other people, Wonder Woman is still Lynda Carter.
The former Miss World USA starred in two closely related but separately produced series between 1976 and ’78 (the single, WWII-set Wonder Woman season for ABC followed by the contemporary New Adventures of Wonder Woman for CBS).

Given that superheroes on television were still equated with the campy ‘60s Batman series, and that the mid-seventies were hardly noted for progressive media representations of women, I recall that the Amazing Amazon actually fared pretty well on the tube.

Yes, she had a figure which impacted our developing libidos like a crashing invisible plane, but Carter also managed to depict a strong, sensitive, inspiring and intelligent character who still served as a role model for young women for generations afterwards; long before (the obviously derivative) warrior princess Xena.  Her sincere portrayal also gave a comic-book character 'verisimilitude' before Christopher Reeve ever took to the air.

All hail to the Princess, baby

So in a week’s time Gal Gadot (and we wish her all the luck in the world) will become the second actor ever to play Wonder Woman in a live-action production?

Actually, she will be the fifth.
Join me in the result of a long journey down an internet rabbit-hole which convinced me that the more you think you know, the less you actually do...

The first actress to play Wonder Woman in person was another Linda - Linda Harrison (Charlton Heston’s love-interest ‘Nova’ in the first two Planet of the Apes films).

Linda Harrison as the first live-action Wonder Woman

Admittedly, it was only in a 5-minute pitch for a television movie pilot by Batman producer William Dozier, and the concept deviated wildly from the established history of the character, resulting in something truly dreadful - exactly the kind of sleazy campiness which the '70s series managed to avoid. It will come as no surprise to anyone that this wasn’t picked up.

In the intersts of completism, here are 5 minutes of your life you’ll never get back again - but if I were you I really, really wouldn’t bother:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ilIodk5wQ6c

The first time Wonder Woman was successfully broadcast on the small screen, she was blonde:

Now, that's incredible - Cathy Lee Crosby as Wonder Woman (?)

Then-tennis star Cathy Lee Crosby (later to find fame on the That’s Incredible series) donned a costume completely unlike anything the character ever wore in the comics, to combat the mighty Ricardo Montalban in a 1974 ABC TV movie. No I’m not making it up - here's an image to prove it.

As obscure as this production has now become, it still generated enough interest to eventually lead to the Lynda Carter adventures which we all remember so fondly.
And perhaps because the memory of Ms Carter is held in so much affection, it took another thirty-two years for the character to (almost) reappear on television.

In the interim years nominating an actress to play the Amazing Amazon was a popular pass-time for fans. Sandra Bullock was always cited in the ‘90s, to be followed by almost every dark-haired actress in existence, from Jennifer Connolly, to Kate Beckinsale, to Megan Fox (remember her?)

However, another Megan really was a contender. Mad Max Director George Miller cast Australian actress Megan Gale as Wonder Woman in his 2008 Justice League film, but as this was aborted before filming began due to a writer’s strike, including her here would be dubious.  Except, apparently-genuine shots of Ms Gale in costume came to light recently, so here she is what we very nearly could have had...

Megan Gale was cast as the first big screen Wonder Woman in 1998

Perhaps the next closest to a live-action realisation of the character was Cobie Smulders. Joss Whedon wrote two Wonder Woman film scripts with her in mind, before eventually casting the actress in The Avengers and his Agents of Shield television series, when the project collapsed. Smulders did, however, voice Wonder Woman in The Lego Movie (2014) making her the first big screen incarnation after all!

Cobie Smulders, (looking quite a lot like Lynda Carter here),
voiced Wonder woman in The Lego Movie

And speaking of Agents of Shield, not only has it featured an actress playing one of Marvel’s closest approximations to Wonder Woman (and therefore another fan candidate): Jaimie Alexander as the Thor film's Lady Sif, but someone who actually did play her.

Not a wondrous Amazon, but a marvel-lous Valkyrie (sort of).
Jaimie Alexander as Asgard's Lady Sif

In 2010, Shield's statuesque Adrianne Palicki became the first to finally play Wonder Woman in over three decades -  in a TV Movie pilot which unfortunately was never even screened.

Adrianne Palicki was not well-served by the script of the aborted 2010 TV movie

She certainly looked the part, (the only actress invited to test for the role), but once again, the concept of the character was unnecessarily reshaped.
At least we weren’t given the by-now cliched ‘origin story’ approach, but instead a jaded, cynical and even sometimes cruel character who has lived in the ‘World of Men’ for some time, and become some kind of corporate brand and media celebrity.

My feeling is that with a far better script, (even either of Lynda Carter’s TV pilots), Palicki could still be Diana Prince now.

But instead we are finally getting Wonder Woman on the big screen: first guest-starring in an unsightly scuffle between two testosterone-over-dosed Capes who ought to know better, followed by her own feature film. Early footage can be seen here:

Wonder Woman fights the Nazis, just like old times

There’s been a little bit of thin-shaming (TM) after news of Gadot’s casting, (regardless of the fact that the actress is also a former Israeli army combat instructor who put on 17kg of muscle for this role), but she certainly looks the business from what we’ve seen in the trailers.

Despite the character's history of handing the titular male heroes their own bottoms in occasional clashes, I for one hope that we will see some of the gentleness and feminine wisdom in Batman v Superman, which Carter brought to the role all those years ago.
If Wonder Woman has to act like just another posturing male to succeed in the 'World of Men', then I think the character will lose much of her wonder.

And in the upcoming film, would a ‘power pirouette’ be out of the question?

More wonderful artwork, this time by Phil Jimenez, evoking the spirit of Lynda Carter's Wonder Woman.

Size sighs

The stick who walks is giving some stick back

Apparently I was a chubby infant, but have been what is commonly called 'skinny' for as long as I can remember.

Clothes I wore as a teenager would probably still fit me now - until the opposite of liposuction is invented nothing is ever going to put weight on these bones.  I still have to put an extra notch in every new belt, and my decent height means that trouser shopping for a particularly absurd ratio between waist and leg measurements can take all day.

First world problems, right?

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t make a big deal of it, but other people sure like to.

It's certainly no news to me that remarks are directed at those sharing my body shape with a degree of casual cruelty that no one would dream of using on an overweight person. Not in these apparently more sensitive and enlightened times.

It’s a shame that the occasions when these comments have hurt me the most is when they’ve come from friends. But as we all continue to age I suspect there might be increasing amounts of envy in those remarks - who knows.

Who cares?

Well, apparently some people do. In the space of a year I’ve just completed my second illustration for an article about what is apparently now known as ‘thin shaming’. The first was written by a male broadcaster whose modest physical stature comes from his family’s Asian origins (below), and the most recent has been a compendium of interviews with a variety of women (top of this post).

It makes compelling reading, but my own experience leads me to conclude that unless the result is physical or psychological health problems, (and make no mistake, it can be), there are far worse things to be ‘shamed’ for.
During a long stint in martial arts, the look on every single opponent's face at the moment when they realised that, despite appearances, I wasn’t going to blow away after their first punch, was all I ever needed to cope. (Well, not their very first punch, anyway).

Maybe writing a blog named after a stick insect also demonstrates the arrival at a certain amount of peace with a lifetime of putting up with size-est nonsense.

The article I've illustrated ends with a much better solution, however. Simply put: perhaps we all just need to be kinder to each other.

Arthurian Legends

A science fiction writer, inventor and undersea explorer investigated myths in his own television series, and unfortunately became the target of a particularly unpleasant one, himself, many years later.

Arthur C Clarke 1917 - 2008

In the '70s it was Leonard Nimoy who brought the world’s mysteries into our living room via his acclaimed In Search Of series.

His successor in the early ‘80s was a bald, bespectacled West-Countryman. He didn’t have Nimoy’s star power or charisma, but to my friends and I he was a star of a completely different magnitude - Arthur C Clarke wrote one of the greatest films ever made: 2001: A Space Odyssey. As I discovered his other novels he fast became one of my heroes.

The men behind 2001, writer Arthur C Clarke, and director Stanley Kubrick.

He pioneered groundbreaking work on the early warning radar system during World War II and later the concept of geostationary satellites; predicting their potential for global communication. He commentated live on the Apollo 11 moon landing, served as a patron for charities combating polio and preserving gorillas, was an avid diver who discovered a sunken temple off the Sri Lankan coast and wrote 80 novels.

The day before my birthday I decided to treat myself to a book and spotted the television ‘companion book’ to the series I’m alluding to: Arthur C Clarke’s Mysterious World, in a second-hand bookshop. It’s one of those books I always meant to get, a lot of people I knew owned it, but somehow I never got around to it. Picking the book up from a pile not yet shelved, I’d just noted its perfect condition when the shop-owner asserted: “Five dollars”.

Happy birthday to me…

But before we return to his wonderful television series Arthur C Clarke’s Mysterious World, lets address a little bit of ugliness first.
Already having been appointed a CBE, Clarke’s knighthood for services to literature was announced in the 1998 New Year’s honours list. However, when the Sunday Mirror accused him of paedophelia, he requested the investiture be delayed until his name was cleared.
After an investigation the accusation was found to be completely baseless (and possibly part of a Sri Lankan conspiracy to discredit Clarke and embarrass Britain on the occasion of a royal visit by Prince Charles).
Clarke received his Knighthood in 2000 and five years later, the highest civil honour Sri Lanka could bestow: the Sri Lankabhimanya.

Unfortunately, that kind of defamation can still cause irreparable damage, and I know I’m not the only person to have been more aware of the accusation than his exoneration.

Clarke scuba diving in Sri Lanka

Moving on…

The book I parted with a princely sum for was published in 1980 to correspond with the screening of the Mysterious World series, and is redolent with the graphic design of that time, heavy egyptian serifed headlines and neatly drawn key lines around the many photographs.

It’s also delightful, more or less following the format of series with separate chapters on everything from lake monsters to UFOs to the Tunguska explosion. The book is actually written by Simon Welfare and John Fairley, but each chapter is closed with a comment from Clarke, where he gives his personal interpretation of the particular mystery.

Each time the impression that Clarke believes mysteries are important because they are so far unquantifiable, is apparent. Do any of us really want to see Nessie or a sasquatch caught, scientifically labelled and corralled? Surely this would only diminish our sense of wonder about the world (to say nothing of the harm it would do to these new species)?

It is also fascinating to read about the the science of the day being applied to less glamorous phenomena like ball lightning and the moving rocks in Death Valley, and to see how little we’ve advanced in thirty five years to come any closer to a definitive explanation.

A scene from last year's television adaptation of Clarke's novel Childhood's End.

Clarke ends his remarks in a playful fashion:
“Mysteries are fun. Even if they are only nature’s practical jokes, they add to our enjoyment of the marvellous universe around us…
If we can find the answers to as many as ten percent, I should be very pleased - and surprised.
And even if we got the answers to one hundred per cent, there are plenty more where they came from…”

When Arthur C Clarke’s death was announced in March 2008, I just happened to be listening to the radio at the time. The National programme played this excerpt from 2001 as a tribute...

The two least emotional characters in cinema history,
Dave Bowman and HAL 9000, break your heart

'Friendly' rival

Amicus, the studio whose name means ‘friendship’, was Hammer’s most notable competition in the British Horror film industry.

The brilliant documentary analysing Amicus horror, film by film, by fan Derek Pykett.

Hammer has instant brand recognition - Kate Bush never wrote a song about Amicus.  My experience of their films, as I suspect is many other film fans’, is reading about a Hammer film I once enjoyed only to discover it was actually made by their main rival.  

Having an even smaller budget than most Hammer productions, Amicus founded the concept of hiring actors on a by-day basis, rather than on contract for the entire film.  This meant that they could afford some impressive names - many of Hammer’s main players including the unholy duo of Cushing and Lee - and well-established British performers appeared to have no issue with filling in a free day here and there on an Amicus film.  The shorter segments of the studios many anthology films presumably also made this system so workable.

So the similar casts and genre meant it is often easy to confuse the output of the two studios.  In actual fact, there are many fundamental differences between the methodology and product of the two. 

One can only imagine how Milton Subotsky felt when his concept for remaking Frankenstein was rejected by Hammer studios, only for them to release their own version which propelled the studio to international horror film stardom.  The fact that he then set his own studio up in direct competition with them is perhaps a good indication.  

But my impression is that this rivalry was probably a one-sided affair, more of an issue for Amicus than it was for the Hammer juggernaut.

My own introduction to Amicus films came via two strong Doctor Who connections:
Their Daleks films from the mid-sixties, and a vampiric Jon Pertwee in The House that Dripped Blood.

I have room in my heart for both British Houses of Horror, but many insist on playing the two off against one another.  Sweeping statements are made when the two studios are inevitably compared (listen to Matthew Sweetman's expertly made but very Amicus-centric documentary here: http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b03s9tm7) but having seen a lot of the output of both, I thought I’d analyse the oft-repeated ‘received wisdom’ for myself:

1. Unlike Hammer, Amicus specialised in anthology films

That's some cast , Amicus, and not an anthology film.

This one is true, although Amicus didn’t solely produce portmanteau films.  Milton Subotsky was strongly influenced by the first british horror anthology, Ealing studios Dead of Night, and after Amicus films first successful venture in this genre, Doctor Terrors House of Horrors, many more were to follow.  Their final horror anthology was From Beyond the Grave, coming full circle with once again featuring Peter Cushing as the innocuous seeming, but sinister, link between the different stories.  

Perhaps the closest Hammer came to the portmanteau form was an early and aborted American-made television anthology Tales of Frankenstein and their two 1980s British TV series.

2. Unlike Amicus, Hammer specialised in Period and Gothic settings

Stephanie Beacham in contemporary Hammer film Dracula AD 1972 and
 (inset) Period Amicus film And now the Screaming Starts.

Broadly, but not completely, true.  Hammer set their thrillers and comedies in contemporary times, and towards the end of their run Christopher Lee’s final two appearances as Dracula and the Valerie Leon vehicle Blood from the Mummy’s Tomb were all in a ‘modern’ setting.

Likewise, Amicus trod onto Hammers period pitch with their Doctor Jekyll and Mr Hyde adaptation I Monster, and 18th Century horror: And now the Screaming Starts.

In my opinion, they were all successful productions.

3. Amicus got bigger names than Hammer

Before he was a shonky animatronic puppet, the Crypt Keeper was played by
knighted British thespian Sir Ralph Richardson.

Possibly true. casting Sir Ralph Richardson, Joan Collins, Denholm Elliot, and the coup of having Cushing, Lee and Vincent Price appear in the same film, were all Amicus achievements.

Hammer tended to rely more upon an established repertory of accomplished performers, some of whom, like Christopher Lee, Stephanie Beacham, Oliver Reed and Joanna Lumley, became famous after their horror breakthroughs.

4. Hammer offered glamour, whereas Amicus was more about the uncanny amidst the everyday.

Many believe that Hammer can be distilled into sex and horror, flesh and blood which is a blunt, but difficult to deny, analogy.  In fact, Hammer stylishly presented these fundamental aspects in the form of an adult fairytale, morality plays where lines are clearly drawn and expertly performed.

By virtue of Amicus films' mainly contemporary settings, there is far less fantasy and stylisation in late '60s and early '70s decor and apparel. (But this can possibly be balanced against the casting of exotic screen beauties like Ingrid Pitt and Britt Ekland). 

5. Amicus gave (arguably) the leading man of both studios, Peter Cushing, more opportunity for range in his roles.

Tales from the Crypt: Peter Cushing certainly never got to play a zombie for
Hammer (or win an award for it!)

Given the wonderful character roles Amicus offered Cushing, including his award-winning performance in Tales from the Crypt, this is difficult to deny.  An actor of his skill can delineate Baron Frankenstein from Doctor Van Helsing, but it is far more subtle than the differences between Doctor Shreck, Arthur Grimsdyke and the Temptations Ltd Proprietor for Amicus.  To say nothing of his delightful Doctor Who.

6. Amicus ended with successful family-friendly fantasy adventures, whereas Hammer foundered with attempting to establish ‘Action Horror’.

This is a tragic example of bad timing on both sides.  It’s true that Amicus successfully managed a reinvention in the face of the decline of British horror films, turning instead to popular Edgar Rice Burroughs adaptations for the school holiday market.  In some ways, this was a return to the feel of their mid-sixties Dalek films. Sadly, the perhaps inevitable parting of the ways between Amicus partners Subotsky and Max Rosenberg ended the company and cut this resurgence short.

Hammer, in the meantime, more or less invented a combination of Gothic horror and action adventure with The legend of the 7 Golden Vampires, Captain Kronos: Vampire Hunter and the sadly unmade Vampirella, failing to find its audience at the time. The studio could not compete with the new wave of expensively-produced horror from the US and wound down. 
Four decades later, however, it’s sometimes hard to find anything else but big budget action horror at the cinemas!

Action horror is everywhere now, but Hammer invented the genre decades ago.

So let’s not fight, as viewers we will be the only losers in the end.  Better to open your heart to both - there’s no reason not to love the films from the Hammer House of Horror, and Amicus - the Studio that dripped Blood.

Fifty shades of Age

I know it’s just a number, but the day I reached my half century was pretty special.

Being weird means you might get weird presents on your birthday....

I have a happy, fulfilling and probably somewhat-sheltered life.  I’m quick to acknowledge those I owe my contentment to - fiercely-loving, brave, pioneering parents who came halfway across the world in search of a better existence, an incredible woman sharing my life who is probably the best thing about me, and a few, long-suffering friends who enrich my life in ways they’ll never know.

I turned fifty this week, an occurrence which both astonishes and pleases me at the same time - like reaching a far-off destination in good time and on less fuel and monetary expenditure than you expected.

But last year, I had a pretty wretched birthday - choosing to spend it at work and by sheer bad luck having a ‘lousy day at the office’.  On top of this my Facebook privacy settings somehow decided to conceal the fact that it was my birthday, and anyone who might have cared remained blissfully unaware that the day was significant to me.

I wasn’t about to repeat this mistake for my fiftieth and so took the day itself, and those either side, off (and re-checked my Facebook settings).

Rose began her schedule of ‘secret’ events by inviting nearby friends and neighbours for pre-birthday drinks on Sunday afternoon.  I think I’m a much more relaxed guest than host, but having so many familiar faces give their time to gather for my benefit is something you can’t help but enjoy.  Bringing them all together also gave many an opportunity to catch up, and it was heart-warming to see so many friends in animated conversation with each other, on our deck,  on a perfect summer’s afternoon.

My birth date itself dawned hot, with the traditional opening of cards in bed.  

Rose’s card came with the message : “This is a day full of clues which need to be solved…” and proved to be the case at each stage of an unforgettable birthday.

I steadfastly failed to decipher the clever and rhyming clues which came with a new gift at each destination, but was very happy to be led by the nose through the day.  

Clues and itinerary, one of the best organisers on the planet
made no exception on my birthday

Beginning with breakfast at our favourite Greytown cafe, we headed to Wellington for the next stage of the adventure.  Incredibly, we met with wind and rain on our journey, but this rapidly began to disappear as we reached the capital. Free-forming until the sun was shining fully again, we ducked into Te Papa to see the acclaimed Scale of our War ANZAC exhibition, but queues formed from the passengers of the two enormous cruise ships docked in the harbour sent us to the Dreamworks exhibition instead.  

A swooping, very wide-screen dragon flight through the world of How to train
your Dragon is an exhilarating highlight of the Dreamworks exhibition

It might have been second choice, but I’m so glad we saw the beautifully designed celebration of this studio’s art and creativity (including the actual greenhouse set from Curse of the Were-Rabbit!).  There’s nothing like a sharp reminder of how an illustrator might not have tried hard enough, and missed his calling, on his 50th birthday…

All too soon it was time to board the East by West Ferry fro our trip to Days Bay, on the far side of the harbour.  The day was hot and sunny by this time, and we sat up on the top deck, taking in views of the harbour we haven’t seen since living in this city.  We crossed the wake of the recently passed Interislander and picked up some of the larger vessel's ocean-going companions as they turned to follow us instead - yes, I even got dolphins on my birthday!

The original plan had been to paddle board at Days Bay, but being behind schedule and a northerly breeze made us quite happy to park this activity for another time - as long as I got into the sea at some point I’d be more than happy.

"We're on a boat!"

We had a wonderful lunch at the Cobar restaurant, looking out across the harbour from a shaded outside table, watching the local school take to the water on their ‘beach day’, the squeals of delight reminding me how I used to, and still feel about getting into water at any opportunity.

We swam out to an anchored raft straight after lunch, the sea surprising Rose with how much warmer it is than the Wairarapa rivers we’re used to.  I carried on to the Day’s Bay wharf, and then we thad time for a coffee at another cafe before catching the ferry back again.

Judging by that smile I’m not the only one who loves being in the sea on a hot afternoon.

At a couple of points during the afternoon it looked as if the sun might finally be disappearing behind hazy high cloud for good, but every time it seemed to blast out with full force again (as evidenced by Rose’s ruddy complexion when we got home ).

Passing Te Papa again on the way back to the car, we decided to try our luck with the Scale of our War exhibition again, and this time we got straight in.  Not only was the detail of the oversized human figures overwhelmingly impressive, from magnified stitching and shoelaces to skin pores and stubble, but the Gallipoli-themed installation was naturally very moving.  

Richard Taylor touches up one of the gigantic recreations of an Anzac combatant
in the Scale of Our War exhibition.

A beautiful home-cooked meal marked the end of a very full and indulgent day.  Relaxing with a movie, whisky in hand and skin pleasantly taut with an abundance of sun and sea spray is my favourite way to end any day.  Unwilling to let it all end, I stayed up late, watching a movie and responding to birthday wishes on Facebook (yes, the settings worked properly this time).

As I self-indulgently reflect on my rather selfish life so far I realise that it isn’t really about me.  What makes me smile now, and always, are the wonderful people I’ve met along the way. 

Count Down: Addendum - Sound Bites

There are many different ways a not-so-classic film can be enjoyed...

“Peter Cushing immediately says:
“Who the f_ing ‘ell are you - where’s Chris? Chris!?

And Dracula (John Forbes-Robertson) says:
“Ah no, I’m playing the part of Chris this evening, Sir Cushing…”

And he gives him a b*tch slap!

He does… he gives him a proper slap! 

And Peter Cushing says:
“… I wouldn’t even take that from Christopher Lee,
so I’m certainly not taking that from you ‘ponce-boy’”,
- and he promptly kills him!”

(The climactic confrontation from Hammer’s Legend of the Seven Golden Vampires, not co-starring Christopher Lee, as narrated on the Hammered Horror Podcast)

I’ve recommended the brilliance of the Hammered Horror podcast before, effortlessly combining reverence and complete irreverence in their look at a broad range of horror films.  My favourite episode was their look at Dracula AD 1972 so when I heard they were doing the final film in Hammer’s Dracula cycle, Legend of the Seven Golden Vampires, I had high hopes.  Hosts Mr Ash and Mr Paul possibly had an easy task ahead of them in examining this notorious but glorious mash-up of Gothic chills and Kung Fu thrills (covered by me here: http://fasmatodea.blogspot.co.nz/2015/03/count-down-part-nine-asian-fusion.html), and they certainly didn’t disappoint.

(copyright the Hammered Horror Podcast)
http://hammeredhorror.com/index.php/2016/02/08/hammered-horror-33-the-legend-of-the-seven-golden-vampires/

At the end of their achingly funny and surprisingly informative podcast episode, Ash happened to mention that Hammer also released the soundtrack to this film as a story record in 1974, with Peter Cushing accompanying the film score with a narration of the story.

Quicker than you could say ‘Geek crack’ I tracked down a recording (I love you, internet) and have to report that it is absolutely delightful.

Story records at this time were, largely juvenile affairs, the sort of thing you would hear on the Sunday morning children’s radio requests programme - and apparently Hammer received some criticism for apparently trying to break into this market.

  

In fact,  this album is anything but. It’s a given that Cushing’s narration, with cut-glass diction and an ability to find more syllables in words than we mere mortals ever suspected existed, is superb.  James Bernard’s music, re-arranged for this release by Philip Martell, combines the disparate themes and settings of the film with skill and gusto, while writer Don Houghton refines his screenplay elegantly for ‘P Cush’s’ (As Hammered Horror call him) retelling.  Houghton’s wife and television actress Pik-Sen Lim even voices some dialogue as Maio Kue, the chop-sockying heroine who, although nothing new in Hong Kong cinema, could be regarded as a pioneering empowered female role model in a British film.

Complete with sound effects from the film , the care and attention which went into this record marks it as perhaps one of the earliest adult audio books - a market which continues to flourish today.  Even in their dying days, Hammer were once again at the forefront of entertainment.  Sadly, this is only one of two records which Hammer City Records produced, (more on the other in a post to come).

Like the film itself, re-releases have seen The Legend of the Seven Golden Vampires soundtrack album become better appreciated with the passing of time.  Also available on You Tube and Amazon, it only reinforces how ahead of their time Hammer was with their final productions, and how much more in step with current sensibilities films like this are now - over forty years later!

Solo Misadventure: Part Two – River deep, Mountain high

Getting from the Waiohine to the Tauherenikau river isn't usually difficult where I live, unless you do it via a mountain.

Accommodation for one - bring your own matches.

The view of the Tauherenikau river in summer, glimpsed from the train at the start and end of our daily commute, scarcely does it justice.  From the railway bridge it tends to look like a large dusty quarry with some despondent rivulets of water winding their way across the gravel.

But only a little way further into the hills it becomes a poster girl for New Zealand tourism. 
The banks nestle in on either side, and native bush begins to proliferate, palms shading, and ferns fringing sparkling clear pools. I’d swear you can smell the oxygen in the water, it fizzes near the sun-warmed surface as you pass through this beautiful river.  An author I was privileged to interview a couple of years ago coined the expression ‘the weight of nature’ in one of his books, and you can certainly feel it here.

I reach these parts of the Tauherenikau by wading up the river in high summer, able to cover a fair distance due to the low water level.  But I can only get so far, and only recently I realised that the answer had been staring me n the face every time I visited my favourite swimming hole at the other nearby river, the Waiohine. At the end of the road is a sign indicating the beginning of the track to 899m Mt Reeves, but when I finally read it properly, saw that the track continues down to Tutuwai hut, perched near a part of the Tauherenikau river I hadn’t seen before. the sign indicated the 11km distance would take 4.5hrs.

My legs still feeling the effects of the previous day’s return from Riversdale, I pedalled the familiar journey to the start of the track. 
I had originally intended to make the return trip to Tutuwai hut in a day, but Rose had convinced me to turn it into an overnight stay.  Her motivation might have been to get me out of the house but she also probably saved my life.  I had almost made the classic mistake of not respecting the mountain - it might only have been 11km, but it was STEEP!

The track ascended sharply through pine, then bush and eventually beech forest.  Assuming that the summit would be the halfway point of the journey, I hoped to reach it in 2hrs 15 minutes.  Nearing the top a wind picked up.  I passed a small party of mature trampers heading the other way, and as I write this they are still the last human beings I’ve seen in 30 hours.  Because, as it turned out, they had been the last people to stay at the hut and I had it entirely to myself.  

View from the top of Mt Reeves

But back to the present, with thigh muscles whimpering, I managed to make the top exactly when I hoped I would.  The Wairarapa spread out far below me and I got my first view of the Eastern Tararua range, glowering beneath some ominous clouds and reminding me again that this wasn’t just a stroll - people have died in these mountains.

If I’d thought the climb was steep the descent was insane, and I shouldn’t have been as surprised as I was to make it down in a single hour - seeing the pink straight angles of the hut roof through the trees was jarring after the constant green and brown of the track, but a huge relief.

The company I enjoyed at Tutuwai hut.

Tutuwai appeared to have enough sleeping space for a couple of rugby teams, but presently there was just me, and it stayed that way.  As much as I enjoyed the solitude, another party might have had matches with them. This was a crucial oversight which lead to some embarrassing attempts to ‘MacGyver’ my way out of forsaking a hot dinner.  I tried to focus the sun through an empty wine bottle onto some dry leaves, but discovery of my plight had come too late in the day … I even tried rubbing sticks together and finally banging rocks.  A discarded lighter flared briefly then died once and for all.  I was stuffed, or rather not stuffed after a modest dinner of dry food and not the nourishing 'Kaweka' meal I had packed.  It was having to take the coffee, which I’d carried here, off the menu which really hurt, though.

I swam and read until the light finally disappeared - the sun appearing to roll along the ridge of the mountains, rather than dipping behind them.

The view from Tutuwai hut veranda.

I spent a surprisingly unnerving night in that huge hut all by myself.  Every creak of the cooling building seemed magnified, as did the distant scream of some still-unidentified wildlife.  What most concerned me though was the possibility that I could be invaded at any minute by a drunk party of pig hunters.  The sound of the nearby river fooled me several times by mimicking distant human voices, but despite all this I eventually fell into a deep, long sleep.

Despite the forecast, the next morning was sunny and hot, so I hit the trail early, prepared for the slope back to the top.  I say prepared, but it still hurt.  Weirdly, on summiting and coming back into cellphone range at last, I received a text from my manager, asking me if I wanted Waitangi day off.  I now see that dark things have happened to New Zealand while I was gone, but my first news was the opportunity to extend my holiday by another day - and I grabbed it.

My last view of the Tauherenikau valley as I head for home.

Like my Riversdale trip, I also finished this one with a swim in the Waiohine when I reached the end of the trail.  Tramping is supposed to be a social activity, and as much as I enjoyed myself I did feel very isolated and maybe a tiny bit lonely, (I even caught me talking to myself over breakfast).  I’ve had great, if exhausting experiences over the past week, but it’s time to call a halt to the solo misadventures for a little while.