We talk all over the Bond films. Just don’t ask us to whistle.
Angels of Death
– Do I look like a burglar?
– No. You look rather ch— Don’t move, stay where you are, put your hands over your head and lean against the wall.
– Nor am I a contortionist.
This month, it’s a queasy mixture of the Swinging Sixties and the Punching-People-in-the-Face Seventies, as Steed, Purdey and Gambit try to discover who is encouraging so many sweaty government security personnel to discotheque themselves to death, and why. It’s The New Avengers in Angels of Death.
License to Steele
Then he’s blessed. I’m forever plucking stray hairs from my comb and brush. Positively demoralizing, but an inescapable part of the human condition. Hmm? Does any of this say anything to you Miss Holt? It does to me. It fairly shouts Remington Steele is an elaborate ruse. He does not exist. You invented him.
This week, we answer the eternal question, “Why the hell are we watching this?” with a resounding “Dunno”, as we plumb the depths of Reagan-Era film-noir-lite with the first episode of the TV show that gave the world Pierce Brosnan — Remington Steele.
A Room in the Basement
– Oh well, sir, in that case, some of the credit must go to Drake here. I mean the men in the field.
— Rubbish, the glamour boys always get all the credit. I hope you don’t mind my saying this, Drake.
– On the contrary Mr. Ambassador, it is the man behind the desk who does all the planning, all the real thinking. We just carry out orders.
This month, we’re off to Geneva to rescue the handsome Captain Munro from Spearhead from Space, who has been abducted and held captive in the Romanian Embassy by some people who are apparently doing the accent. It’s a jolly old heist, involving Patrick McGoohan, the lovely Jane Merrow, Mr Range from Frontios and, in the true spirit of the Kate O’Marathon, Kate O’Mara herself. For a few minutes.
Read and Destroy
– You wouldn’t trust your mother, would you?
– Her least of all. She used to spy for the Egyptians.
This month, we resume last year’s abortive Kate O’Marathon with an episode of The Persuaders! from 1972, in which Tony Curtis and Roger Moore join forces to fail to recover a retired spy’s sensational memoirs, while Marla and Melania conceal a dark secret about their husband’s astonishing hairpiece.
The Avengers (1998)
Oh, I discovered then, nothing beats a good lashing. (Mind your head.) Take India. You can have a good ten inches overnight there. You know, one should never fear being wet.
This month, we commemorate the death of Sean Connery by revisiting the first nail in the coffin of his movie career, the 1998 film The Avengers, starring Ralph Fiennes and Uma Thurman as crude robot replicas of John Steed and Mrs Peel, who go up against the wet sporran of Connery’s single most villainous role, Sir August de Wynter — a man who selflessly tries to provide the population of Great Britain with something interesting to make small talk about.
A Touch of Brimstone
– I’ve come here to appeal to you, Mister Cartney.
– You certainly do that!
This month, we all don our flattest Regency trousers and head underground for an evening of wrestling, wassailing and wenching to support the admirable cause of bringing down the British Government. And Peter Wyngarde is here too, looking as devilishly handsome as ever. It’s Part 2 of our Diana Rigg marathon: the 1966 Avengers episode A Touch of Brimstone.
Only one episode so far, but it already promises to be as hilarious as the same team’s Doctor Who podcast Flight Through Entirety.