Do You Have the Time?

After a somewhat struggling start (I was really tired this morning), I finally headed over to Greenwich today. Perhaps because my heart wasn’t totally in it (owing to high levels of exhaustion), I was kind of disappointed I’m sad to say. I’m still grateful for the opportunity to go, mind you; it just wasn’t what I thought it would be.

But never mind all that.

First and foremost, I wanted to explore Greenwich a bit, since I had yet to visit there. I figured the best way to do so was on foot, and so I took the tube to the North Greenwich stop and hopped off. From there I walked the 2(ish) miles between the O2 arena and the Royal Greenwich Observatory.

Though this area of Greenwich did not quite mesh with the image I had in mind, it was kind of neat to walk through there nonetheless, as EastEnders’ opening credits suggest that the fictionalized Borough of Walford is located in the same area. (Though the equally fictional Walford East tube station, which services the EastEnders characters, is supposedly where the real Bromley-by-Bow stop is, and therefore three stops away from where I lived in Forest Gate.)

But I digress…

Eventually I reached the Observatory (and the attached maritime museum and Queen’s House). Sadly the beauty of the area was slightly marred by a massive construction project, which was creating stadium-style seating for an upcoming Olympic event of some sort. Oh, well.

Anyway, there are three things worth noting about this particular touristy excursion.

The first is the Shepherd Gate Clock. 

Basically, when the railway network was established during the 19th Century, it was realized that a single, standard time was needed. The Astronomer Royal suggested that this standard time should be set by the Royal Observatory, and theorized that electric signaling could be used to transmit the ‘official’ time from a ‘master’ clock at the observatory to ‘slave’ clocks elsewhere. With the help of Charles Shepherd in 1852, this system was put in place, and the Shepherd Gate Clock became (probably) the first to display the thusly established standard—Greenwich Mean Time—to the public. You will also note that the clock features a 24-hour analogue dial.

The second touristy thing worth noting is the Greenwich Meridian. Similarly established in the 19th Century, the Greenwich Meridian was designated the official Prime Meridian in 1884 by a panel representative of 25 different nations. It is marked by a stainless steel strip, and also a green laser beam at night.

Straddling the Eastern and Western Hemispheres

All in all, I spent longer getting to the Observatory than I did actually at the Observatory. Ah, well—as I learned from my V&A experience, you can’t win ’em all when it comes to touristy things.

From there, I walked a short distance away to the newly reopened Cutty Sark (one of the very last tea clippers ever built, and one of only three of its type still in existence), and then on to the Greenwich Market (where I was sorely tempted to buy a little die-cast truck bank that matched one I inherited from my grandparents—in the end, I did not buy it).

Annnnnnnd, that’s about all I have to say about today. (Sorry, I’m just so tired, today and so little stood out!)

Until next time!

What's Curry Got To Do With It?

I’m back with another entry. Truth be told, everything I’m about to say deserves a lot more ‘oomph’ than what I’m about to give it—but, I’ve spent most of the last two weeks (including most of yesterday and today) writing about discursive representations of the intersection between gayness and AIDS as part of two separate final projects. 

In other words: my brain is so far beyond mush that words do not even exist to describe it.

Nonetheless, there’s a lot that I haven’t blogged about this month, and I’m feeling a lot of pressure from ‘Future Brett’ to document it all in one form or another while it’s relatively fresh in my mind. Thus, I offer the explosion of information presented here. 

Let’s get started, shall we…

On Sunday, 15 April, I accompanied EN to a theatre performance she’s been interning with throughout the semester. The show is called Soul Sister, and is the story of Tina Turner’s relationship with Ike, as told by the former while backstage during her ‘Private Dancer’ tour. 

Most people already know the troubled tale of Ike and Tina Turner, so I won’t go into that here (though I will say that the first act in particular was far more forgiving of Ike than I expected). Instead, I want to focus on two particular aspects of the show: the actress playing Tina, and the ending:

The role of Tina was given to Emi Wokoma (who, ironically, played the sister of Tameka Empson’s ‘Kim’ on EastEnders). The Guardian reviewed Wokoma’s turn as Turner thusly: 

[Wokoma’s] impersonation of Anna Mae Bullock, renamed Tina Turner when she started singing with Ike Turner, is startling. She's got that strange, stiff-legged dance – the one that looks like a man who's left the urinal too soon – and the flutters of the hands. And she's got a voice that can strip paint or sing a lullaby within the same bar. (Soul Sister Review)

I admit that I was a bit concerned with Wokoma at the start. The opening number is ‘Private Dancer,’ one of my favorites. Wokoma’s rendition wasn’t bad by any stretch of the imagination, but it also wasn’t great—I felt as if she wasn’t warmed up yet. Fortunately, after that number, the songs performed are basically in chronological order, and follow Anna Mae’s rise to prominence. This gave Wokoma the chance to warm-up her Turner impression, as her character also developed her unique style. By the time ‘River Deep, Mountain High’ was performed, audiences could be easily excused for forgetting that the real Tina wasn’t on stage.

[NB: This is not my photo.]

This brings us to the other point I wanted to bring up about the show: the ending. As previously noted, the story is told from the point-of-view of Turner, who is relating events to a friend backstage between sets. Upon concluding her tale, Turner returns to her (fictionalized) concert—whereupon the theatre audience becomes a concert audience!

The last 15-20 minutes of the show is just like a traditional concert. There is no narrative: just Wokoma—accompanied by a band, backup singers, and flashing laser-lights—recreating Turner’s early-80s comeback tour. Traditional Tina favorites—such as ‘Simply the Best’, ‘I Can't Stand the Rain’, ‘Help’, and, of course, ‘Proud Mary’—drove audiences to their feet. No lie. There were even encore songs, in true concert style: ‘Steamy Windows’ and ‘What’s Love Got to Do With It?’

‘Awesome’ doesn’t even begin to describe the experience. All I can say is that if you’re in London, and are even remotely a Tina Turner fan, you must see this show!

After Soul Sister, EN and I were ridin’ high, as concert goers typically are right after a show lets out. So, we headed over to Soho and a bar there called 79CXR. This particular bar was billed in one of the local rags as offering gay karaoke, and we thought it might be fun to check that out. 

I’d say we had a decent time: drinks were cheap even if the singing was painful. Also, it wasn’t crowded—almost always a perk. When the karaoke wrapped-up at around 9:00 PM, Bette Rinse (the drag queen emcee) organized a group of fellow queens and locals for a queer version of ‘Match Game.’ Sadly, it was all a bit lost on EN and I, as neither of us were familiar enough with the local drag scene to get the references to specific community members. Ah, well. It was still interesting.

Okay, I’m going to totally change topics now. (Like I said, there’s a lot to catch-up on!)

On Thursday, 19 April, two of my friends from Chicago—TS and his partner, BH—flew in to London for the latter’s birthday weekend. I was fortunate enough to see them on three of the four days they were here.

That first day (Thursday) was a bit rough for me. I didn’t sleep well the night before, and had zero desire to go to school that morning. Nonetheless, I made the long slog there…only to learn that one of my two classes that day had been cancelled. Now, this isn’t a problem in-and-of-itself. The class in question is my least favorite (‘Cultural Power & Resistance in the 21st Century’—not nearly as interesting as it sounds). Nonetheless, the scheduled lecture for that day would likely have been beneficial for my final essay. Ah, well. Then, as if that wasn’t bad enough, I got caught in a downpour on my way home. I. Was. Drenched…and unhappy. 

Unhappy and Soaking Wet.

Fortunately, seeing two familiar faces was just the boon that my spirits needed. We headed into Soho to grab a couple of cocktails at Village, and from there we went to Maison Touareg for dinner. I was uber-excited for this, because I had wanted to check out Maison Touareg since coming back from Morocco, and was merely waiting for the right ‘excuse’ to do so. It was sooooo delicious! Wonderful company was made even better by amazing food and wine. My only complaint is that we were seated beneath the speakers, and the music grew a bit loud when the belly-dancer (whose skills were mostly lost on us) came out. Other than that, it was perfect!

Friday, 20 April, marked the last official day of classes at UEL! My exams aren’t due until this week, but classes have concluded. As my Friday class (‘Realism, Fantasy & Utopia’) was my favorite, this was a bit of a bittersweet moment. I’ll talk more about all that in a later entry, though. After class, I returned to my flat, where my housemates were already in weekend-party-mode. Ugh, it was so loud! For the second day in a row, I found myself highly agitated.

Fortunately, TS and BH invited me to join them once again! This time we went to Cinnamon, an Indian restaurant near Oxford Circus. Once again, I had an amazing time! The food was good (albeit a bit spicy): we shared a plate of ‘BALLS!’ (as listed)—potato, beef, vegetable, and Bangla-Scotch egg—and for the main course I ordered a plate of ‘Old Delhi-style tandoori fenugreek chicken’ (whatever all that means). 

Even better than the food, though, were the drinks. I stuck to water (I had to be up early the next day), but I did have a sip of both TS’ and BH’s drinks—if anyone’s interested, Cinnamon offers the best mojito in the history of forever. After dinner we headed over to the Duke of Wellington (another gay pub) for a last round of drinks going our separate ways.

I’m going to skip saying anything about Saturday, 21 April, as that will get its own entry owing to a trip to Windsor Castle. As for Sunday, I had one last opportunity to see TS and BH before they headed back to Chicago. We met for bagels and coffee at Beigel Bake in Shoreditch. Apparently, this is the oldest bagel place in London. It’s also one of the cheapest places I’ve been in London—but so worth it! I got an éclair (how could I resist?), and it was one of the most scrumptious sweets I’ve eaten since being here! Yummy-yummy! From there, we walked over to Old Spitalfields’ Market, where we walked around for a few minutes before bidding on another adieu! All in all, it was a wonderful visit, and so nice to see friends from home! 

And, on that happy note, I will also say farewell to this entry. I’ve finally gotten ‘Future Brett’ off my back for a bit, and can realx…for now—there’s still a lot to tell about, including my trip to Windsor, the results of my midterms, and my hurried escape from my flat!

But that’ll have to wait a bit longer…

Casual Over-Drinks Topics...

There’s not too much to talk about at the moment, but I figured I should do a quick entry just to highlight a couple of things that I’ve done over the last week.

Tuesday night (20 March) I traveled to Leytonstone—birthplace of Sirs Alfred Hitchcock and Derek Jacobi—in order to meet-up with two UEL students, JA and GC, for drinks. The peers in question are both thesis-level Cultural Studies students who occasionally pop into my horrid ‘Culture, Power and Resistance in the Twenty-First Century’ class. One of them (JA) also happens to be the UEL student that came to Columbia last year. We met up at the Red Lion (which I think might be affiliated with the pub I went to with K&M on my second night here), and spent a lovely couple of hours catching up over beer and cider. We chatted about everything from white privilege and racism in Europe, to the failings of abstinence-only education in the U.S., to the attempted privitization of England’s healthcare system. You know, casual over-drinks topics…for Cultural Studies students at least.

Tuesday night wasn’t my only stab at being social this week. Last night (23 March) I happened to catch a Facebook update from another friend, AH, that he was stuck at Victoria Station, waiting for a train to take him back home (which is about an hour away). Now, I’ve ‘known’ AH online for around 13 years—we’ve been part of the same He-Man/She-Ra community since the mid- to late-1990s—but we’ve never actually met before. (Namely because of the ocean which separates us.) So, upon spotting this update, a hurried flurry of messages were exchanged, and plans were made to finally meet up in person while he waited for his rescheduled train. A short while later, and we were finally greeting one another face-to-face.

Me and AH at Victoria Station

Since AH had a couple of hours before his train was scheduled to depart, we nipped over to the Duke of York, a pub not far from the station. This was actually my first experience meeting another He-Fan/She-Raver in person—everyone’s so spread out in the States that it’s hard to do so—and I loved every second of it. It was so surreal: two grown, 30(ish) year-old men—in a dark, noisy bar surrounded by stumbling heterosexuals trying to dance to ‘Hot in Here’ (and the men suggestively removing their suitcoats)—talking about everything from the father/daughter relationship between Hordak and She-Ra, to what kinds of material the Four Horsemen will use to design Scorpia’s tail, to the role of the Filmation series in producing a generation of really swell, inclusivity-minded people. You know, casual over-drinks topics…for He-Fans/She-Ravers at least.

Beyond those two bits of excitement, there’s really not too much else to tell. This week’s kind of flown by (and, honestly, I wish it would slow down)! I’m housesitting for K&M at the moment, and keeping their delightful dog Bowmar company. I’m loving every second of the peace and quiet here. I hadn't realize how stressed out I’d become living in the other house until I came here, but I suddenly find myself very relaxed.

Of course, part of the stress I’m feeling might have more to do with midterms than the constant thumpa-thumpa at my flat. Basically, our entire grade comes down to two grades: our final (60%) and our midterm (40%). Oh, and they do not award 100% over here, the rationale being that if your work warrants 100% then you should already be a teacher. Realistically, the highest score most students earn is about 75%. So, basically, my midterms have to be spot-on if I want to try to maintain my 4.0!

Fortunately, midterm madness is almost over. One of them (‘Realism, Fantasy & Utopia’) was due last week, and the other two are due this week—followed by two glorious weeks of Easter Break (yes, it's called Easter Break here), during which time I hope to visit Scotland!!!! 

And then we go straight into working on our finals, because there's only like 5 weeks left of the actual semester following Easter Break.

Two final things I want to mention, but which don’t really fit anywhere else:

First, yesterday was a gorgeous day! Mind you, this is still London, so of course there was a curtain of smog blanketing the skyline—I have yet to see a day that is both sunny and clear—but I’ll take what I can get! It was simply too nice restrict myself to the indoors all day, so after class I ran to K&M’s house, spent some time with Bowmar, grabbed the laptop, and headed to a coffee shop in Soho. The place was called LJ’s CoffeeHouse, and my choice to go there was pretty random: I simply wanted somewhere that was open-air and had free wifi, and this is where Google directed me. After visiting their website, however, I also became smitten with LJ’s through the following ‘prayer’ posted on their site (and which I can totes relate to):

Caffeine is my shepherd; I shall not doze.
It maketh me to wake in green pastures:
It leadeth me beyond the sleeping masses.
It restoreth my buzz:
It leadeth me in the path of conciousness for its name's sake.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of addiction,
I will fear no equal.
For thou art with me, thy sweetness and thy crema they comfort me.
Thou preparest a carafe before me in the presence of my barista:
Thou anointest my day with pep; my mug runneth over.
Surely richness and taste shall follow me all the days of my life:
And I will dwell in the house of LJ's forever.

The service was only decent (though very friendly), but the coffee and the atmosphere as a whole were excellent. The gay Sohoians seemed to come alive, renewed by the sun’s warmth. People were so happy and pleasant, and it all jived perfectly with the mood I was in. (It was not, however, conducive to working—I spent 90% of my time there just chatting with Nic over the interwebs.)

Secondly—and containing spoilers (consider yourself warned)—I was saddened to learn on Thursday night that ‘Eastenders’ had killed off one of my favorite characters, George-Michael-obsessive Heather Trott (Cheryl Fergison). Alongside the Dot, Kim, and Shirley characters, Heather was one of my favorites. And the way in which she died—and the status of her relationships with best-friend Shirley and her murderer at the time—is just too sad. And sadly, it seems as if the U.K. soaps don’t bring back characters from the dead in the way the U.S. soaps do. Ah, well—I’ll miss you, Heather, but at least I can find some of your shenanigans on YouTube still: 

  

Until next time…

I'm On the (Knife's) Edge of Glory!

I’ve been delaying writing this one, ’cause I wasn’t sure how much detail I wanted to go into. But, Nic has effectively blackmailed me into telling all, so here goes…

Well, not quite yet…

First, let me just say that nothing’s wrong, so there’s no need to worry. However, I have a certain…saintly image of myself that I want my wonderful parents to maintain. So, before I delve into the details of Monday night’s tale of drunken debauchery, I will ask that—if either of them are reading this—they just move their mouse over to the little colored ‘X’ in the upper-corner and click on it.

I’ll wait…

Still waiting…

This means you, Dad—bye!

Okay, I think the coast is clear now. 

Now, the rest of you have to swear to secrecy that you won't going runnin’ at the mouth with what you read here—there's no reason for them to become worried unnecessarily!

Let’s begin, shall we?

So, last week I was chatting with TvH—one of my peers in the Realism, Fantasy, and Utopia module—about my experience so far as an international student at UEL. You see, TvH is also an international student, although he’s actually studying at UEL for the full three years, and is half-way through his second year. 

Anyway, the topic of the conversation eventually turned to gay things, as it tends to do when two gay men are chatting. I was saying that I had been disappointed by UEL’s GLBT(-but no Q) group—like I said in an earlier post, I had hoped to find a ready-made circle of friends but, alas, such was not the case—and then I mentioned that I was too chicken to check out London’s gaybourhood by myself. Flash-forward a few days, and TvH was kind enough to invite me to go out with him, his partner, and a friend or two on Monday night.

So, off I went for my first adventure within that mysterious realm that is London’s chiseled, apple-tinied gay underworld…

As I learned upon arriving—by bus, of all nonfabulous things—at Tottenham Court Road, the rather nasty weather, coupled with the fact that it was a Monday night, had caused the rest of the group to bail at the last minute. 

Nonetheless undeterred, TvH and I set off for the first bar:

The Friendly Society is a tucked-away bar near the corner of Wardour Street and Old Compton Street. To enter, you have to descend a somewhat dark, quiet stairwell—seriously, you can’t see any of the lights from the club, nor can you really hear the music (contrary to what the older photo below shows). 

But once you’re within the bar proper, it’s like you’ve stepped into a strange, undersea kingdom…

The Entrance [NB: This photo is not mine!]

The Bar [NB: This photo is not mine!]

You can't tell from most of the photos above, but, most of the lighting is a pale blue, like the kind seen in the Faerie Tale Theatre version of ‘The LittleMermaid’—seriously, I kept waiting for Brian Dennehy or Helen Mirren to pop-out…or at the very least, Shelley Duvall! Adding to the ambiance are round, old-fashioned goldfish bowls (complete with fish), a room filled with tiny disco-balls hanging from the ceiling, and dozens of Barbie and Troll Dolls that give the appearance of ‘swimming’ across the ceiling courtesy of screws through their guts.

Notice the dolls on the ceiling [NB: This photo is not mine!]

More Swimmers [NB: This photo is not mine!]

Oh, and have I mentioned the projector? Into one of the alcoves behind the bench-lined white walls, a projector beamed the (in)famous shark-attack scene from the 1966 ‘Batman’ movie—the one with Adam West and the entire rogue’s gallery (minus either of the legitimate Catwomen)—over and onto patrons’ heads. 

The Movie Screen [NB: This photo is not mine!]

As for the music, a solitary speaker was pumping out the sounds of the Eurythmics in one of the siderooms.

It was in this delightfully kitschy environment that I had the first of many, many drinks over the course of the night... And the second. (Red wines, both.)

Wanting to pace myself, I suggested we check out one of the other nearby locations.

Moments later, we were at Village, which is somewhat reminiscent of Spin.

Now, regrettably, this is where the memory starts to get a bit hazy…

You see, no one in London seems to have heard of my usual, safe drink of choice (Fuzzy Navels), and I didn’t want more anymore wine because it would have had me asleep within moments. So, somewhat reluctantly I switched to my other standby: cranberry-vodka. 

Five of 'em…

That I can recall.

And then I remember TvH and I chatting for (what felt like) 20 minutes with this woman who kept going on-and-on about her hair, and how she hadn’t cut it (‘except the fringe’) in about 15 years… But, I kept giggling because I thought she looked like the late Wendy Richard.

I swear, the woman looked just like this!

Eventually, TvH said he needed a smoke, so we were finally able to escape the chatty Miss Brahms look-alike—and her drunken GBF, who kept asking me to hold his drink and then disappearing, only to re-appear later with a brand new drink…

Then it was back to the bar (or possibly a third one—I have a ‘mystery wristband’ from another bar called Shadow Lounge that may or may not be owned by the same folks who own Village, and that I don't remember getting) for a shot or two of tequila.

Okay, so let me clarify something here and now: none of this talk of drunkenness is meant to sound like bragging. I mean, I had a fun time (until the next day)—but that’s not the main reason I’m telling you all this. 

All of this is just set-up for this part of the story:

After the shots, we both decided we’d had enough and that it was time to go (our separate ways—I want to make that explicitly clear now, ’cause that’s not where this story is going!). 

We started walking toward Oxford Street, from where we could each catch our respective buses. All of the sudden, this guy appears out of nowhere and drapes his arm around TvH’s shoulder, and asks, ‘Are you guys looking for such-and-such-bar?’

Now, at first I thought that TvH knew this strange guy because, while he didn’t stop walking, he also didn’t jerk away suddenly. I realized I was wrong when TvH answered ‘No,’ and I noted the change in the tone of his voice—I think he was just in shock that this guy was touching him.

 The guy persisted for a few more seconds, and by that point we were both telling him ‘No’ and other dismissary comments. But he continued following…

That’s when TvH came to a sudden halt and said with surprise, ‘He just grabbed my wallet!’

Obviously, this comment brought me to a stop, too. 

We just stood there, staring at the guy…

Oh, and he was now holding a Swiss Army-type knife in his hand.

No lie.

No exaggeration.

We were being mugged!

TvH and I backed away, holding our hands up in a non-confrontational way, and when the mugger’s attention was back on TvH, I started mouthing at some nearby bystanders to ‘Call the cops!’

As far as I could tell at the time, they were too absorbed in the spectacle to actually, you know, help us—but, I think the guy started realizing how many witnesses were around and watching us, and so he took off, taking TvH’s wallet and passport with him.

TvH called the police immediately, and—to the credit of London’s finest—they were there within five minutes, if that long. 

Then came the embarrassing ordeal of having to give a police report and description while being both shaken-up and heavily intoxicated. I mean, seriously: imagine having to give a police report and description under such circumstances. Ridiculous!

Flash-forward to today, when I saw TvH at school and got an update: first and foremost, he ‘lucked out’ in that the mugging happened in an area where there are a few CCTV cameras around (now we just have to hope they’re working!). Also, apparently the thief was stupid enough to try and use one of his credit cards somewhere in East London, so there’s a chance that got caught on film there too.

All-in-all, that last bit was quite the experience—and not one that I ever care to repeat again. 

Now, as for the London club scene: I think next time I’ll just bring the bartender a copy of the Fuzzy Navel recipe and play it safe!

The (Rambling) Media Edition: Part 4

So, one of my main goals while I’m here is to try and get at the root of why soap operas are so much more popular in the UK than they are in the US. In fact, one of my Cultural Studies peers over here was shocked when I told her that, back home, I am frequently ashamed and embarrassed to admit my love of soaps. In order to do this, however, I should probably start watching some, don’t’cha think?

 

Tonight I sat down and watched two episodes of “Coronation Street” and one episode of “EastEnders.”

 

Let’s start with the former…

 

 

“Coronation Street” (a.k.a. “Corrie”) started in December 1960. This means that, following the cancellation of US America's “As the World Turns,” “Corrie” became the longest running soap currently in production. (Just for giggles, here’s a scene from one of the 50^th Anniversary episodes, which featured an explosion, tram crash, and a viaduct’s destruction—skip to the 59 seconds mark:)

 

 

Now, in doing a bit of preliminary research for this post, I discovered that “Corrie” has actually released (circa) six straight-to-video films. Soaps on DVD format is something that is only just recently being experimented with back home (e.g., a special DVD featuring key holiday episodes from ATWT), so this is definitely something I want to look into a bit more…

 

As far as the episode I watched tonight: I found it to be somewhat cute, for the most part. As I noted on Facebook while chatting with some pals there, right off the bat, there is a difference in class when it comes to characters in US and UK soaps—and, to be fair, other academics, most notably Christine Geraghty and Dorothy Hobson, have already noted this. US soaps are all about the upper echelon fighting over businesses and money, whereas UK soaps seem to be about people trying to survive. 

 

Also—and bear in mind that I need to think this line of thought through a bit more, as well as watch some more episodes—“Coronation Street” (and possibly “EastEnders”) kind of brings with it the casual, easygoing vibe of a pub. Like you want to get cozy with it. Conversely, American soaps are all sparkle and spectacle, and looking for the drama. I don't know, I might completely revise this thought later, but that's the gut-reaction I'm having at the moment. I definitely want to follow-through with the pub atmosphere connection, though…

 

By way of comparison, and also to showcase the ideas I’m discussing above, I want to juxtapose two clips: the first is from yesterday’s episode of “Corrie,” and the other is from my favorite soap back home, “The Young & the Restless”:

 

Now, both of these clips take place in one of the favored watering holes on the show. Of course, you’ll notice the class signifiers right off the bat—the clothing, the atmosphere, and the treatment of the respective bar-keeps. If you’re more familiar with the American brand of soaps, however, you’ll also notice a certain…casual intimacy between the “Corrie” characters. Again, I can’t quite articulate what I’m trying to say yet, but, damn it, there’s something there!

 

Now, let’s get to the other show I watched tonight: “EastEnders.”

 

First things first: I want you to watch these credits:

 

 

Okay, now back up a minute! 

I want to tell you about three serendipitous moments I had while watching this show tonight 

First Moment: my friggin’ school is in the logo! The show’s fictitious setting (the London Borough of Walford) is right across the river from UEL.

 

I marked my campus in red to help you out...

Second Moment: Already in this blog, I’ve mentioned a couple of times my love for the movie “Beautiful Thing.” Well, one of the reasons I love that movie so much is because of the character Leah Russell, played by Tameka Empson:

 

Given that, you can understand my surprise at finding her in “EastEnders,” where she plays the character Kim Fox. (And then my further surprise at learning that Linda Henry, who played the mum in “Beautiful Thing” was also in “EastEnders” at one point!)

 

Leah grew up to have some fierce hair! Growin' up with them gay boys did her good!

 

Third Moment: A few blog entries ago, I posted one of my favorite “French & Saunders” clips:

 

 

 

Obviously, Dawn French was (lovingly) mocking Debbie Allen from "Fame":

 

 

But then, in last night’s “EastEnders,” was Leah—I’m sorry, Kim (Ms Empson) doing this:

 

 

 

 

Ho. Lee. Cow. Worlds. Colliding.

 

At any rate, “EE” started in February 1985, and is centered around the citizens of Albert Square. In Christine Geraghty’s book, Women and Soap Opera: A Study of Prime-Time Soaps,* series creator Julia Smith stated: “We decided to go for a realistic, fairly outspoken type of drama which could encompass stories about homosexuality, rape, unemployment, racial prejudice, etc., in a believable context. Above all, we wanted realism” (p. 16). 

 

Perhaps this sense of realism is the difference I’m looking for? 

 

By the way, if you’re curious, some of my non-US friends on Facebook have described the difference between US and UK soaps as follows:

  NC: “British soaps are all about how horrible life is…American soaps seem to be extremely more glamorous than ours, which are all about poor people scratching a living. people in american soaps always seem to be loaded…While theres definitely a lot of (usually dark) humour in the soaps, they are always dark and depressing. Every christmas day Eastenders has to try to out do itself with something worse happening than the year before it”

AB: “Try Eastenders! Its the Anti USA soap! its gritty and realistic (and they dont stay in the same room in the same conversation for two years!”

TC: “…I think the soaps are very realistic in that they don't attempt to over glam things in their look at working class life. You will find these characters on every street in the UK. The characters have always been super accessable and thats why I think people take them intk their hearts so much. Check out Emerdale it's based on rural/country life and is the alternative choice to Corry or Eastenders. Hollyoaks is the mid teens to.mid twentys soap. All about kids in collegenand Uni. The only tuing I watch regularly is Emerdale.”

 

Once again putting aside the academic stuff for a moment, I want to point out one character from “EastEnders” who caught my attention right away: Dot Cotton, played by 84 year old June Brown. I don’t know too much about her yet—other than her portrayer has an amazing sense in hats…

 

 

—but look forward to learning more about her. Right off the bat, I’d love to do a analysis of this character versus Jeanne Cooper’s Katherine Chancellor character from “The Young & the Restless.”

 

 

Perhaps a good place to start with such a study would be the one-of-its-kind monologue episode wherein Dot relays her life story (which you can watch courtesy of these four clips):

 

 

 

Eastenders - dots story: 31 january 2008 (part 1) 

 

 

Eastenders - dots story: 31 january 2008 (part 2)

 

 

Eastenders - dots story: 31 january 2008 (part 3)

 

 

Eastenders - dots story: 31 january 2008 (part 4)

 

In closing, I want leave you with two final videos—to cleanse the pallet, if you will. 

 

The first comes courtesy of my friend Tally, and hails from “EastEnders”:

 

 

 

The last comes from this week’s “The Young & the Restless”…

 

 

 

And who says soaps aren’t fun?

 

Bye now—

 

* Just a quick note about Dr. Geraghty and her book, Women and Soap Opera: A Study of Prime-Time Soaps: I actually own the book, having acquired it for an earlier Cultural Studies project that I was working on. It’s a really fun read, if you can get your hands on it. Then, later, I had the honor of interviewing Dr. Geraghty for yet another work—she is a really kind person in real life, and had no qualms about helping me. In fact, she even shared with me some of her as-of-then unpublished work.