The kids are having a petition drive to change the school’s mascot. I was unaware the school had a mascot, and the reason is simple: the current symbolic representation of institutional spirit and shared history is four colored squares.
Do it for ol’ quartet-of-equal-shapes! Good Lord. Four colored squares. Of course this avoids the problem of troublesome scary mascots, or mascots that may have cultural issues, but putting all your school spirit behind four colored squares is like expecting kids to root for a chemical process. We’re the Fightin’ Concept of Evaporation!
Natalie is pushing for the Wolves as the school mascot. Because they’re cute.
Well, since the Disney stuff is over, there’s nothing to say, since all I’ve done is type and keep the fretting down to a minimum. It’s been a day of inertness all around; lovely, warm, sunny and green, but I couldn’t muster a jot of interest in anything I was supposed to do. I’d love to talk about the election, but I’m saving that up for the Secret Project. And it’s a column night. I’ll get back to this if I have the time.
Back. Column’s done. My head should be clear for a big bonaroo Bleat tomorrow; in the meantime, it’s a Lance Lawson Thursday over at buzz.mn. And now, crafted at the last minute because I hate to choke on long-term projects a few weeks into the thing, it’s our review of the cheap, public-domain movies jammed into the “100 Mysteries” collection my wife bought me for my birthday. Previous installments can be found at the 100 Mysteries site. Let us begin.
Sigh. After last week’s chipper lightweight Ray Milland Bulldog, we’re back to other guy, the one who Lazenbied the role in his initial outing. Previously he had Escaped, or exacted Revenge; what’s on the agenda this week?
You expect Glistening Natives with shields, alternately shouting and cowering. Don’t worry – they didn’t have the budget for Actual Africa, and had to settle on Morocco, which looked like Spain, which meant they could use the one set on the backlot with a tiled roof.
I love thirties design, but look at the background of this title card: it’s like a 1939 World’s Fair exhibition of the mutating Andromeda Strain:
Our old friends are all here, including the butler. Hoping to get something from Bulldog besides a “well done, my good man” or a “cheerio, that’ll be all” he shows up without pants, desperately hoping Drummy notices him. Please, sir. I love you. I beg you, do not make me beg. Oh. I've gone and contradicted mtself again, haven't I.
Later, Bulldog heads to the countryside to stop a plane from taking off, and it seems that pantlessness is indeed the order of the day. Why, he puts the tart in tartan:
If you’re wondering about the plot, well, a sophisticated spy whose worldly, epicine European ways make him immediately suspicious to the red-bloody members of the audience, has kidnapped Drummond’s Scotland Yard friend for reasons I can’t be arsed to untangle; had something to do with Secret Plans for a bomber. This means Bulldog must cancel his wedding, of course. This makes the second time in the series he’s found a reason not to commit to normative heterosexuality. His fiancée, again, is lovely Miss Clavering, shown here with a phone carved from a gorilla shinbone:
Here are the bad guys. Recognize the one in the middle?
Well, surely his distinctive voice and accent will give him away.
Obligatory rear-projection shot of the butler having a stroke while they drive somewhere? Check!
Hey, but how do we know they’re in Africa? Could be anywhere.
Oh, well, a lion. That seals it.
In the end, the Scotland Yard guy is saved, all the bad guys are shot and crumple with a groan, and Bulldog carries off Miss Claveringly to their matrimonial chamber, where he drops all pretense. And also his pants:
Just kidding. They’re still not married. Will they marry next week? I have no idea: three movies down, three Bulldogs to go – and 94 more bad movies to come. We’re countin’ down the bottom 100! Why? Because this is the internet, that’s why.