I Blame Nominative Determinism

Showing off my new purchase... which means a new wargames project

Remember the other day when I said I would only be focusing on a single wargame project going forward?

Well, that pledge lasted about a week.

I shall be supplementing my investment in Dead Man's Hand with Hairfoot Jousting, a comical, fantasy jousting game that pitches halflings/hobbits/hairfoots against each other, while mounted upon pigs, sheep, giant turkeys, dogs, ferrets etc 

The rules seem simple and brief, so much so that the delightful book, published by Osprey, is actually split in two. The back half, which you flip the book to read, contains a variant of the game, Wartnose Jousting, allowing you to play despicable goblin jousters riding rats, roaches, frogs etc

Honestly, I couldn't help myself.

I've always been fascinated by knights (the clue's in the name) and, by extension, jousting.

The wallpaper of my childhood bedroom was resplendent with pictures of knights on horseback, and one of my early introductions to the concept of wargames was Andrew McNeil's 1975 tome, Knights At War (part of the Battlegame Book series).

One of the treasured books I have held onto since my childhood

As well as text pieces on the history of knights, arms and armour, heraldry etc, the oversized hardback contained four games. Each game's board was a double spread of pages, and the rules and counters you cut out from the card insert pages. It was a brilliantly simple idea that I can't believe hasn't been revived.

My favourite, and most played, game in the book was, unsurprisingly, Tournament, where you took control of teams of jousting combatants.

The other games were Arsouf, refighting the 12th Century clash between Saladin and Richard the Lionheart; Siege, which did exactly what it says on the tin; and Border Raiders, a snatch-and-grab scenario involving feuding 13th Century German lords.

To be honest, they were all great games, but it was Tournament I returned to most often.

In recent years, these passions have seen me visiting living history and re-enactment shows to get a more visceral taste of Medieval life.

For a while, there was even coverage of genuine, full contact jousting (rather than the scripted, wrestling-style jousting you see in the grounds of various castles and stately homes around the UK in the summer) on television.

I became quite a fan of world champion Charlie Andrews and his Knights of Mayhem. Sadly, those television shows - like the equally-enthralling Knight Fight about the Armoured Combat League - failed to attract the attention of audiences who'd rather watch yet more "documentaries" about Ancient Aliens and the Second World War.

Of course, now we have the magnificent A Knight of The Seven Kingdoms, the latest Game of Thrones spin-off, whose story unfolds amidst the grime and graphic violence of a jousting tournament. 

Anyway, I already ordered myself a set of miniatures for my new jousting wargame - a team of hairfoot jousters on their assorted mounts - from North Star, the game's manufacturer, using my monthly discount code from my Wargames Illustrated subscription. The figures arrived today.

Expect more updates on this new project in the future.

Hairfoot jousters from North Star Military Figures

Hercules (1983)

In a nutshell, the Lou Ferrigno-fronted 1980's Hercules does for Greek mythology what Battle Beyond The Stars did for space opera.

It is similarly cheap, cheerful, camp, and cheesy, with gloriously wonky special effects - as you would hope for from sci-fi fantasy of the era.

Ingrid Anderson

The 104-minute romp opens with a bizarre and jumbled retelling of a creation myth, that cherry picks various mythological elements (as does the entire story) and mixes them in as it sees fit.

This then segues into Hercules backstory - which borrows heavily from Superman's origin - with baby Herc being smuggled away from a palace coup that saw his parents murdered, then cast adrift in a spaceship small boat, before washing up on a riverbank in Kansas and immediately adopted by a friendly pair of childless farming folk The Kents.

Time wibble-wobbles forward and Hercules has grown into oiled-up beefcake Lou Ferrigno, just in time for his adopted parents to be killed off and for him to seek his destiny in the big city.

Having competed in a series of tasks, he is supposed to serve as a bodyguard to the stunningly gorgeous Cassiopea (Ingrid Anderson), but before Hercules can begin, Cassiopea gets kidnapped by the wicked King Minos of Thera (William Berger) and his daughter, Adriana, played with bosom-heaving brilliance by the ever-reliable Queen of Scream Queens Sybil Danning.

Sybil Danning

Hercules is dropped in the ocean, but manages to swim for a week to the shore of the island home of the witch Circe (Mirella D'Angelo), yet another breathtakingly appealing woman falling into Hercules' lap.

Teaming up with Circe, our hero has to descend into Hell to retrieve her stolen amulet, which will supposedly help them get to The Green Island of Thera, where Minos is holding Cassiopea captive, under the spell of the dreaded black lotus.

I think this take on Hercules is possibly a meditation on the battle between science and faith, with Hercules being helped (and hindered) by the gods and their agents, while Minos, with the aid of a funky (possibly alien) entity called Dedalos (Eva Robins), represents the advancement of technology and science.

But it's a very weird science - that, at times, relies on the power of human sacrifice as well as other clearly magical shortcuts.

Yes, I know, the general take on Arthur C Clarke's third law, but I suspect writer/director Luigi Cozzi was more influenced by Erich von Däniken's Chariots Of The Gods pseudoscience than Clarke's hard sci-fi.

Mirella D'Angelo

There's definitely a strong whiff of Ancient Aliens madness at work in the mythology of Hercules.

And a large part of the film's appeal to me (along with its central trinity of beautiful actresses) is that it takes this quirky spin on Greek myths, while still employing a very fantastical over-the-top approach that doesn't bother too much with rules and structure.

The movie certainly plays fast-and-loose with the idea of verisimilitude, refusing to let this hero's journey be grounded in any shape or form.

It's one of those films where ideas were obviously thrown at the screen, then forgotten as the production team moved on - for instance, in some of his early fights, Hercules (who we've learned was originally created as a being of light by Zeus, to be mankind's protector) gives off flashes of light when he hits people.

But then later on, you realise this just isn't happening any more.

Which is a shame, because it was an oddly comic book-like effect.

There's a lot of model use in the film, again as you would expect, and while the creatures (mainly mechanical robots of various shapes and designs) are quite raw and basic (and ultimately ineffectual), the set designs - although obviously models - are interesting and evocative of the strange world Cozzi is creating for his characters to exist in.

Moonfall (2022)

When the Moon suddenly shifts from its orbit and enters a death spiral towards Earth, mankind's only hope rests with washed-up, disgraced astronaut Brian Harper (The Conjuring's Patrick Wilson), NASA executive Jocinda Fowler (Halle Berry), and conspiracy theorist KC Houseman (Game of Thrones' John Bradley).

It turns out the problem is caused by an alien A.I. entity buried deep beneath the lunar surface, and only by defeating this can the Moon return to its normal trajectory.

In the midst of global chaos, with the support of a collapsing government, our heroes manage to salvage an old space shuttle from a museum for their 'Hail Mary' mission.

Moonfall is glorious nonsense, a 1950's "bad science" B-movie (or a ropey Asylum mockbuster) brought to life with the best 21st Century special effects money can buy and writ across a grand canvas.

It should come as no surprise to learn that this modern masterpiece is the work of writer/director Roland Emmerich, the creator of such wonderful comfort movies as The Day After Tomorrow, Independence Day, and 2012.

Emmerich definitely draws on these earlier works to inspire the non-stop action that drives the plot forward with a breathless momentum, but the  final act goes full-on Ancient Aliens-meets-The Matrix-and-2001: A Space Odyssey.

While all the weird science stuff is unfolding in space, there's a B-plot on Earth involving Harper's delinquent son, Sonny (Charlie Plummer), Fowler's young kid Jimmy (Zayn Maloney), and au pair Michelle (Kelly Yu) racing across disintegrating landscapes to find shelter from the impending apocalypse.

I'll be honest, initially, I thought I could have done without this "human interest" sub-plot, however along the way it boasted a lot of Emmerich's recurring tropes and was all the better for it. 

But it was the bonkers main storyline that truly made the whole two-hour film worthwhile.

The film knows it's totally over-the-top and ridiculous, but I love the fact that Emmerich has ensured that the script and cast take the subject matter seriously, never allowing it to lapse into easy parody.

While there are a handful of laugh-out-loud one-liners, the entire cast deserve all the awards for delivering their lines with a straight face.

Moonfall isn't Oscar bait, but then it was never intended to be. This is pure, adrenalin-fuelled entertainment of the highest calibre.

Thank the heavens for Roland Emmerich, continuing to make these epic, standalone, sci-fi disaster popcorn blockbusters.

As much as I enjoy franchise movies and earnest art films, every so often the old brain needs to kick back and relax with something that demands little beyond our simple attention and delivers a visual treat that's just plain and simple fun.

Re-Opening The X-Files

Being rather immobile at present (having apparently slipped a disc, and am waiting for a treatment regime from my GP), I've been watching a lot of TV from a recumbent position, either in my lounger or in bed (I can't concentrate/focus enough to properly read, which means a growing backlog of novels and comics). 

As well as new (to me) shows, like Castle Rock, returning on-going favourites like Murdoch Mysteries, Dexter and Star Trek: Strange New Worlds, classics like the BBC's Paranormal series and, of course, Ancient Aliens, I've also dug deep (thanks to Prime Video) and started watching The X-Files from season one, episode one.

By "sheer coincidence", the Amazon delivery guy turned up a few days ago with the first volume of this gorgeous X-Files tome, a stunning, hardback, faux replica of the titular X-Files themselves.

I'm a massive fan of "in-universe" books such as this, but The X-Files: The Official Archives is quite possibly the best-looking one I've seen to date.

This official book collates information (files, evidence, photographs etc) on 50 of the show's "most memorable" investigations relating to "cryptids, biological anomalies, and parapsychic phenomena". 

And if that wasn't impressive enough on its own, in May next year volume two arrives, dealing with "extraterrestrial activity and The Syndicate".

These are not only amazing reference books, but invaluable research material for an idea that's been scritching away at my brain since my serious, leg-related issues began and I realised I was (currently) unable to fulfil my gamemastering obligations for The Tuesday Knights. 

Honestly, I'm not sure how long I'll be out of action and our superhero campaign had already lost momentum and was faltering (for various real world reasons).

Pete has kindly offered to step in, when I feel like getting back to the table, as he has "an idea", which is always an exciting prospect as we had great fun with his 1950s GURPS game that segued into 1930's Hollow Earth Expedition. 

Perhaps, our characters will be "sliding" into the Victorian steampunk game he mentioned some time ago?

Or maybe it's something else entirely...