From Chakra the Invincible to, er, Pancake Man, meet the new global superheroes giving the Us studio a run for its money
When news broke earlier this year that Marvel were not, contrary to excited reports, pursuing a new TV series based on the cult superhero Captain Britain, there rose a tumult of distress from middle-aged comic-book fans in all corners of these fair isles. Or at least from the tiny number who remembered Marvel UK’s colourful but short-lived defender of Albion, a superhero who once protected former British prime minister Jim Callaghan from ’orrible Nazi bad guy the Red Skull, but was unable to save the Labour leader from electoral defeat at the hands of a far more evil supervillain: Maggie Thatcher.
Despite being a rare Marvel effort written by the British comics legend Alan Moore – known for such seminal fare as Watchmen and V for Vendetta – Captain...
When news broke earlier this year that Marvel were not, contrary to excited reports, pursuing a new TV series based on the cult superhero Captain Britain, there rose a tumult of distress from middle-aged comic-book fans in all corners of these fair isles. Or at least from the tiny number who remembered Marvel UK’s colourful but short-lived defender of Albion, a superhero who once protected former British prime minister Jim Callaghan from ’orrible Nazi bad guy the Red Skull, but was unable to save the Labour leader from electoral defeat at the hands of a far more evil supervillain: Maggie Thatcher.
Despite being a rare Marvel effort written by the British comics legend Alan Moore – known for such seminal fare as Watchmen and V for Vendetta – Captain...
- 8/25/2016
- by Ben Child
- The Guardian - Film News
Despite film hits such as Billy Elliot and The Reader, theatre is 'home' to Stephen Daldry and now he's back in the West End, directing a regal Helen Mirren. Here he talks about communal living, depicting Hm on stage – and those Olympic ceremonies
It's been a long day at the end of a long week and Stephen Daldry needs a drink. But before that a cigarette. "I'm on a pack-and-a-half a day at the moment," he says, as he ducks out of an airless, windowless rehearsal room that smells, in the opinion of the Observer's photographer, "of actor". He continues: "I blame it entirely on Peter Morgan."
Daldry, the director, and Morgan, the writer, have been stuck in here for weeks working on a new play called The Audience, which opens at the Gielgud on Friday. The premise is enticing: since the second world war, the British sovereign has met...
It's been a long day at the end of a long week and Stephen Daldry needs a drink. But before that a cigarette. "I'm on a pack-and-a-half a day at the moment," he says, as he ducks out of an airless, windowless rehearsal room that smells, in the opinion of the Observer's photographer, "of actor". He continues: "I blame it entirely on Peter Morgan."
Daldry, the director, and Morgan, the writer, have been stuck in here for weeks working on a new play called The Audience, which opens at the Gielgud on Friday. The premise is enticing: since the second world war, the British sovereign has met...
- 2/10/2013
- by Tim Lewis
- The Guardian - Film News
Distant memories used to be truly distant – fragmentary, blurred, unreliable. Now so many of them can be digitally refreshed online
Our original intention had been to see Hitchcock's second version of The Man Who Knew Too Much (with Doris Day singing Que Sera, Sera, 1956), but the timing proved impossible, and instead we booked seats for Charles Frend's Scott of the Antarctic (with John Mills as Scott, 1948). This was our Christmas treat at the BFI on London's South Bank, though we knew, of course, that the second film's ending wouldn't exactly send us trilling across Waterloo Bridge to our post-screening hamburgers in Covent Garden, which is another seasonal custom.
I had seen Scott of the Antarctic before, as a small boy at a cinema in a Lancashire cotton town in the closing years of the last king's reign; or rather, at one of those theatres that alternated films with variety acts,...
Our original intention had been to see Hitchcock's second version of The Man Who Knew Too Much (with Doris Day singing Que Sera, Sera, 1956), but the timing proved impossible, and instead we booked seats for Charles Frend's Scott of the Antarctic (with John Mills as Scott, 1948). This was our Christmas treat at the BFI on London's South Bank, though we knew, of course, that the second film's ending wouldn't exactly send us trilling across Waterloo Bridge to our post-screening hamburgers in Covent Garden, which is another seasonal custom.
I had seen Scott of the Antarctic before, as a small boy at a cinema in a Lancashire cotton town in the closing years of the last king's reign; or rather, at one of those theatres that alternated films with variety acts,...
- 12/29/2012
- by Ian Jack
- The Guardian - Film News
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