Fragments

[smokingboot]

A small cramped helicopter plane, me telling my friend (LC) goodnight and not seeing her out, even to the door of my house, but going to sleep on my bed instead, a walk in a dark wood with a strange little beast I hoped was a cat, my mother planting sunflowers all over a grand garden...My dreams may have been overlaid with TV induced anxiety; we were idle beggars yesterday and all I did was concoct myself a real minestrone of visuals from the screen: Hail Satan followed by Dr Who, Dracula and that thing about Ted Bundy.

Drac was the high point, even though Moffat and Gatiss can be somewhat Brilliant Schoolboy in their approach. The dialogue is inevitably the tell; in all their creations, wherever you are and whoever you are, you talk like a London Millennial...and the homage to Coppola was a bit too derivative, even accepting that it's deliberately done to enhance the contrast when everything changes. Also, Drac's hair is verging on the George Lazenby. Still, given all that, when it takes off, it's great fun - the plot obvs, not the hair.