On a relevant retro note, I went on yesterday to watch (not with much enthusiasm, I must admit) the first episode of BBC's Ashes to Ashes. Well, I was amazed! And stunned! ..By the opening scenes, that is, because after that it went classically corny and lame, as fits to a sequel of a series. But that first sequence -especially where detective Alex Drake gets in an abandoned boat through a rusty pier, gets shot and wakes up in a party at the 1981 version of the same boat (The Lady Di), walks through the recently painted ironed pier to find the facing wall at the end full of Adam Ant's posters in his Prince Charming suit and the painted heart over his eyebrow- it nearly brought tears to my eyes. Now, I read that in the second episode they will be visiting Blitz! I really hope it does not disappoint me.
But anyway, at the end, the channel's voice instructed me to watch Life on Mars, so I did. That's where things started making sense. As usual the sequel assumes you are bored of watching the actors get into the same situations (for example get messages from their present lives through the TV) so it skips some introductory elements. That seriously damages the sanity of the script. So Life on Mars was much more nicely done, obviously influenced by Michael Radford's Nineteen Eighty-Four, brings up a lot of that 70's nostalgia. I loved the tone, the idea, the execution, the image, the colours and pretty much everything. In a nutshell, if I where to have an accident and fall into a comma I would love to wake up in 1981, but if I where an actor I would definitely want to play in the BAFTA-winning '73 version of the story, because it really deserves it.
So in these past years there has been an increasing amount of "bring them back" movement. That is quite funny because in the 90's we almost unanimously agreed that the 80's was the epitome of kitch. Directors now seem to revive those days with a high sense of romanticism, almost as aesthetically nice as the 20's or 60's. I guess our minds choose to remember only the nice things of the past, something like a dystopian illusion. Take for example the Victorian era, which is perceived by most people as an aesthetic masterpiece along with the born of rococo. Where exactly would I see all that beauty if I lived then? Maybe in the cheap imitations of lace and grey-toned clothes of the middle and lower classes? How many chances are there I was a part of the dazzling noble ones? But even in those high class circles I bet there where a lot of serious fashion crimes committed by the eccentric aristocracy.
Beautiful or not, though, our innate escaping tendencies make the past days as alluring as the future ones and captivate our imagination in an ever ending dystopian journey.
But anyway, at the end, the channel's voice instructed me to watch Life on Mars, so I did. That's where things started making sense. As usual the sequel assumes you are bored of watching the actors get into the same situations (for example get messages from their present lives through the TV) so it skips some introductory elements. That seriously damages the sanity of the script. So Life on Mars was much more nicely done, obviously influenced by Michael Radford's Nineteen Eighty-Four, brings up a lot of that 70's nostalgia. I loved the tone, the idea, the execution, the image, the colours and pretty much everything. In a nutshell, if I where to have an accident and fall into a comma I would love to wake up in 1981, but if I where an actor I would definitely want to play in the BAFTA-winning '73 version of the story, because it really deserves it.
So in these past years there has been an increasing amount of "bring them back" movement. That is quite funny because in the 90's we almost unanimously agreed that the 80's was the epitome of kitch. Directors now seem to revive those days with a high sense of romanticism, almost as aesthetically nice as the 20's or 60's. I guess our minds choose to remember only the nice things of the past, something like a dystopian illusion. Take for example the Victorian era, which is perceived by most people as an aesthetic masterpiece along with the born of rococo. Where exactly would I see all that beauty if I lived then? Maybe in the cheap imitations of lace and grey-toned clothes of the middle and lower classes? How many chances are there I was a part of the dazzling noble ones? But even in those high class circles I bet there where a lot of serious fashion crimes committed by the eccentric aristocracy.
Beautiful or not, though, our innate escaping tendencies make the past days as alluring as the future ones and captivate our imagination in an ever ending dystopian journey.
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