Chris Blenkarn's Redemption'05
How many conventions promise you a ceilidh, a cake stall, and the opportunity to discuss whether vampires eat black pudding? Truly, Redemption is not your standard con, though if you've been before you won't need telling that. And quite apart from its creative and extensive programming, it's the best organised convention around. How often do programme books list which of the local pubs is in the Good Beer Guide? (Bless those dedicated committee researchers trawling darkest Leicestershire on our behalf) How many membership secretaries are still answering email queries the night before the convention starts? Thank you Judith, Lesley, David, Steve, Steve, Chris, Eddie, Lisa, James, Robin, Vicky and everybody else who did something. It was brilliant.
I'd booked for 2005 at Redemption 2003 and thought of other things until last May, when I spent a weekend in Edinburgh with several Blake's 7 fans including Steve Rogerson, ( close personal friend of Og, hero of the classic Blake's 7 episode "Animals" and sex god). He (Steve, not Og) drew my attention to the episode of Buffy where everything happens in song before deserting us in favour of Shrewsbury Town's vital football match at Stoke. Wouldn't it be fun to do the same for Blake's 7 at Redemption, he asked? My resistance, lowered by drink, Wobblevision and exposure to the Eurovision Song Contest, was useless.
Months passed, then just before Christmas an email arrived from Steve asking what I had in mind for the workshop. What workshop? Omigod, I'd forgotten all about it. Quickly decided to filk "Blake" as its the episode any Blake's' 7 fan will know. How long is a workshop? One hour. How long does it usually take me to write a filk? Several days, on and off. And, a minor point - I'm not much of a singer. Let's hope anyone who fancies the task has brought something along and can sing. Unfortunately, I don't know much contemporary music, and the list of suitable songs that spring to my mind will probably not spring to anyone else's. Will it be alright on the night?
Songs to Shoot Blake to:
- Waiting for my man (If you're Blake)
- This could be the last time
- Get back
- Silence is golden (ironic subtext)
- You've lost that lovin' feeling (slashy subtext)
- Staying alive
- We've gotta get out of this place
- Bang bang
- Boom bang a bang
- I will survive
- Perfect Day (If you're Arlen, or terminally ironic)
Buffy wasn't on Sky One any more so my hopes of seeing the relevant episode again were nil. I'd only recently begun to watch it, so my grasp of what was going on was not what it might be. This custom of showing one or two episodes a day just doesn't fit a normal way of life - whole series pass me by, I don't know who's alive, who's dead, and who's still thinking about it. Why is Willow threatening murder? Where's Angel? When did Spike start living in Buffy's house? What happened to uber villain number two? What's happened to Giles and why is Xander wearing a hard hat?
In January Steve told me the workshop would be at 5pm on the Friday. Virgin Trains willing, I should have arrived by then; would anyone else?
Con room mate Janet came to stay in late January. Visiting Whitby, we saw two skull and crossbones scarves and decided on a whim to be pirates in support of Capt. Sparrow, even though she'd not got round to watching Pirates of The Caribbean. We were a bit hazy on what middle aged lady pirates wore, but surely a big-sleeved silk shirt, hoop earrings and black boots would be a start? Could I stand to wear high heeled boots all day? Doubt it. How about desert boots - do pirates rove in deserts? Parrot? I asked around for a toy parrot but nobody had one. Should I bring family pet to be ships cat? Doubt she'd approve.
Shortly afterwards the programme arrived online. Why didn't I remember that the Saturday disco theme is Vampires when we were in Whitby, home of Dracula tat? We could have spent a happy hour foraging in the Dracula Experience gift shop. Oh well??. This convention I hoped I'd finally get to see "Man of Iron." The programme section on the Ruler of the Universe contest asked: "Will Og pull the Blake's 7 vote behind him?" What. all of us? Bit of a tall order, even for a sex god. Would I have time to bake a cake for Zocalo Fair? What sort of cake? If it were a Buffy convention it would have to be Angel cake, or possibly Cut and Come again. Do vampire bakers use self-raising flour?
February 23
Oh dear, I hadn't done anything more about filks, and hadn't baked a Zocalo cake either, but had acquired a small parrot called Paul from a friend's daughter. I phoned Jan, who hadn't got a parrot but had borrowed a cutlass, a sword and two daggers from her local amateur dramatic society.
24 February
Dashed out in my lunch break and bought a posh Dundee cake from Newcastle Fenwick's for Zocalo. Blake's 7 connection? Gareth Thomas once appeared in a Dundee panto (Spellchecker insists on Punto). Then I went one better than people who leave their cake at home by leaving it on my desk.
Another phone call from Janet that evening. She'd been to Woolies for chocolate money so that we could bribe people with doubloons at the hustings. Providing we didn't eat them our selves of course. At the same time she picked up two grim reaper outfits for the price of one - Halloween comes late in Shrewsbury. Should be useful if we do a Discworld con.
25 February - Redemption Day
I dash off a couple of very draft filks on the train between Darlington and Birmingham.
Scene One of "Blake" - approaching Gauda Prime
To the tune of Teddy Bears picnic
If you go down to GP today, you're in for a big surprise
There's bounty hunters who'll bring you in
You'd better go in disguise.
"Oh pardon, masters won't you turn back?"
Whines Slave, "I fear we're under attack"
Today's the day your fate will be sealed on Gauda.
Gauda Prime's a nasty place
Though it was Soolin's home he pleasure seems somewhat minimal
Thieves and villains run the show, its all quite legal yet still criminal
Why has Avon lead them here?
An explanation would be nice, suggests his crew
"We need a man to lead the Alliance whose name commands respect"
"You've found Rog Blake," Vila says,
It's true.
Now someone's shooting at Scorpio, its looks like they're going to crash
Abandon ship is the only course, so long Slave, gotta dash.
Now teleport1 But Tarrant can't come
He grips the controls, his face rather glum
So Avon leaves, with Orac in tow, as usual.
Closing Scene: To the tune of As Time Goes By
You must remember this, (though ignorance is bliss)
Take care or you may die
These simple words to Blake apply
As time goes by.
Back there on Liberator
He'd never be a traitor
On that we could rely
But an ugly look is in Blake's eye
And time's gone by.
Now Avon's looking shirty
He thinks Blake's done the dirty
"You don't understand, " is Blake's reply
"I was waiting for you" its no lie
Though time's gone by.
Blake walks towards his friend
But what doe she intend
Then bullets start to fly
So Arlen really was a spy
And time goes by.
We all remember this
Our heroes still we miss
But maybe Avon doesn't die
The Federation he'll defy
As time goes by.
Needs a lot more work but here we are at unlovely New Street station. Before long the Hinckley train pulls in. Two trains running on time? When did that last happen? Leicestershire is not looking at its best, like in that poem "When I am in the Midlands which are sodden and unkind" whose author I forget. Belloc, maybe?
We arrive at Hinckley. All I need now is a taxi to the Hotel with Two Names, but Houston, we have a problem. There no taxis to be seen. With two other con goers I hang about in the little hut occupied by the tetchy taxi controller for 25 minutes. The TV is showing a programme about holiday homes in Florida. Apparently anti - mosquito mesh around swimming pools also repels alligators. Fancy that. Eventually a taxi driver appears and we're off.
It's almost time for my workshop when we get to the hotel. I consider not registering at the con desk until later but luckily remember I won't be able to get to the workshop without a badge. That done I hurry off to find my hotel room, passing Steve R. in corridor as he hurries in the opposite direction. Fiddle with door key, dump bag, wash face, have refreshing glass of water, gobble ginger biscuit to keep up blood sugar level, pin on badge, find reading glasses, check whereabouts of workshop on con programme - the Lakeside, in this weather? - grab paper and dictionary, rush back down corridor, meet Steve R who is looking for me. Yes, yes, I know, I'm late?..
Three people are waiting at Lakeside which happily is indoors. The idea of doing songs for the last episode has one of them rolling on floor in agony so we drop the idea. Instead, we investigate the possibilities of Cally the Auronar / Nellie the Elephant, which Gemma has almost completed. One or two people wander in and out getting their hotel whereabouts, speaking of Peruvian nose flutes and Sesame Street. Cally the Auronar is concluded and I try unsuccessfully to think of another song to filk that we all know intimately. Hark the Herald Angels sing seems unseasonable. "We gotta get out of this place" (by the Animals - Og echo)would be perfect if only I wasn't the only one who knew it. I told Steve this would happen. We move on to a Pet Shop Boys song (another Og allusion?) that seems perfect for Avon and Servalan but only get four lines done before it's time to leave for Man of Iron.
This was spectacularly good. The bravura performances of the talented cast transcended their material. I've since seen the script, but at the time I'd no idea what the plot was. For the sake of other fans who are in the same boat, here's a synopsis, so skip it if you don't want to know.
The bravura performances of the talented cast transcended their material. Invidious though it is to pick out a specific performance, Robot 2, who also doubled as 4 and 6, deserves special mention for being the only cast member who was actually clouted with an inanimate object, a Vittel water bottle standing in for Soolin's block of wood. Water, it seems, is not his ally.
After that scintillating start, I meet a few people I've not seen for ages, then feel the need to return to the room for Twinings' Darjeeling and the remaining ginger biscuit. Pass Steve R. again. He's still in a hurry. I take a proper look at the room, which is de-luxe, very spacious, and has a mirror over the bed. As if I want to see myself first thing in the morning. Janet is driving down but the weather's horrible. Hope she's okay. This is not just friendly concern - I've missed the evening buffet, there's only tuna mayonnaise baguettes available in the bar, and she's bringing the food because who has time to eat properly at Redemption?
It's almost time for the opening ceremony. Jason Carter doesn't look much like his cardboard cut-out from Harriet's cricket matches, especially in that hat. Here's the wannabe Rulers of the Universe. The ever resplendent Londo has a new little companion, a friendship forged over the gaming tables when they both produced five aces. Steve K., resplendent in proper pirate double top boots, is the substitute Capt. Sparrow, minus Depp mascara, as the original Sparrow has had to withdraw. Bender fields a representative, Og the Sex God is accompanied by a BSI interpreter. Harriet in her Jarriere wig stabs current Ruler Dr Who. Hope they let her use a get out of gaol free card before the cricket starts (weather permitting - pitch inspection at 11am) tomorrow. The assassination means Londo, as last time's runner up, gets to be Ruler until Sunday's competition. Hurrah.
Janet finally turns up after ghastly journey, bearing her entire leisure wardrobe, costumes, heated rollers, plastic weaponry, wine, Martini, a large carton of milk, orange juice, grapes, tomatoes, biscuits, and three sorts of cheese. I abandon the quiz to help to help carry it all from the car which is parked next to three Coastguard vans. Leicestershire is about the farthest county from the sea, so what are they doing there? Maybe they've come to rescue Gabor.
Somewhat restored by a nice cup of tea , Janet goes off to register and point out that the cord for the membership badge is called a lanyard, not a string. Then we go into the ceilidh just in time to Strip the Willow (Buffy again.) Brilliant. I haven't been to a ceilidh for ages but the old magic is there, thanks to the excellent Cracker Jocks. I'm disappointed Og doesn't grace it with his presence. I'd like to see him have a stab at the Gay Gordon's. It would have made up for my disappointment some years ago when I went to a con that promised line dancing Klingons, but they never materialised. I dance the man's part throughout - can I have Drazi points for changing sex? Some great outfits - kilts, leather kilt, sumptuous dresses. Judith is brave in bare feet and Richard as ever leads the world in Hawaiian shirts. We retire to bed around 2am to drink Shiraz and eat ginger crunch creams, which is what passes for decadence when you're get older.
Saturday
After breakfast, it's time for the first trawl of the dealers' room. Why does nobody produce novelty mouse mats with wrist supports? Good tee-shirt "Gauda Prime - that meeting went well". I'm tempted, but have taken a vow not to buy any more tee-shirts until the next Millennium. We move on to look lovingly upon Matt Irvine's Blake's 7 models then get waylaid by affordable inanimate objects - scarves and dresses in Kathy Sands' corner. We trawl through everything twice, then I buy three stunning scarves while Janet havers over a dress. She's concerned that if she buys it, the dress will just sit in the wardrobe for most of the year; I can't say that ever stopped me buying anything. What are wardrobes for, anyway? Also at the scarf racks is Seven of Nine, who is expecting a baby and has a Borg Incubation label on her bump. Seven has also produced designer padded nappies with appropriate symbols - what a great idea.
Already it's time for the B7 v.B5 cricket match. My scarves and I join Harriet and company in the Rotunda. Sheridan wins the toss and elects to bat. 12th man Slave is on the field illegally throughout the innings but nobody notices him - story of his life. The pitch is far from lifeless as the green paper won't stay put when we're using the spinner. Dayna gets the wicket of Mollari almost immediately is expensive; Vila is off form; Orac has a good day behind the stumps; Avon gets a wicket first ball, but the B5 team builds up a strong score by the end of the innings. A dismal start is made by the B7 X1 - even Tarrant cannot muster a six, hardly even a four, and the outlook is gloomy as we break for Jason Carter's talk.
Neither Janet nor I knows anything about Marcus but we are soon brought to realise that he has a Pike. The audience seems fascinated by the pike and its workings, so Jason suggests embellishments - how about the Swiss Army Pike? He recalls a stage direction that said something like, "Jason sits on a crate pulling rhythmically on his pike." We gather Marcus is heroic, a Space Jesus, says Jason, who sadly expired mid - series along with Jason's contract. Jason suggests that Marcus's cryogenic tube should have been opened in series 5 and found to be empty.
On getting the role, he'd originally thought he's have to wear lycra but was delighted to discover he's be dressed more like Hamlet in a doublet and swishy cloak. Very dashing no doubt, especially in comparison with Kosh whom Jason described as a fridge on wheels whose light comes on every time the door is opened.
What else? Duels are legal in New Orleans, film extras are know called "atmosphere," British reality TV is the pits, California is nicer than Southall but has the disadvantage of Arnie as governor, Bishops Finger is a peculiar name for a beer, double contact lenses - part of a four and half hour make-up for an episode of Angel - are painful, and he has now reached the age of spontaneous injury when a man can wake up in the morning and be injured without knowing why. He ends by singing part of "I am the very model of a modern major general." This is one impressive guest.
Primeval forces then draw us back to Kathy Sands corner, where more enticing outfits have appeared on the rack. I end up trying on a black overdress with silver embroidery which just shrieks Buy Me! Janet was looking at it too, but in a vague sort of way and friendship has its limits. She'll have to learn to move faster. In any case she's still pondering whether or not to buy an outfit or three - she's taking even longer to make a decision than my husband does, which I didn't think possible, so I abandon her. I feel the need for more Shiraz and a morsel of Shropshire Blue before Blake's Junction.
The film open promisingly at Newport Pagnell motorway services. The crew are travelling not in some flashy SUV but in an ancient Volvo-esque estate car with a caravan attached. It's Wobblevision with better production values. Brian from Spaced is a stony-faced Avon having trouble working the coffee machine. Orac, ably supported by Vila, is on the Black Sheep or more accurately the Black sheep is on him. Dayna and Soolin just want to play arcade games, once they've finished sending Vila back and to for cutlery and Tartar sauce. Servalan pulls in with her entourage, equally stony faced but not quite up to the David Walsh standard. Avon bumps into Johnny Vegas' Blake in the gents and is wonderfully uncomfortable, but who wouldn't be? Never mind promising to do lunch sometime, he should've just shot him.
Janet has eventually decided on a couple of dresses but Kathy's not back yet from a workshop so we descend on Zocalo fair where a lady Klingon is running the cake stall. I buy a hefty slice of chocolate cake - is it Gagh, or Arghhh or whatever the Klingons call cake? It doesn't seem to be alive and wriggling anyway. It's almost 3pm and Janet's not yet had a drink or a cigarette. She's worrying me now. However she can't have alcohol until she's driven to the petrol station for a Lottery ticket.
Outside the weather remains gloomy. There's no sign of the coastguard vans today, but an odd piece of sculpture next to the familiar David and Venus figures looks like a Dalek crossed with a globe artichoke.
Lottery ticket acquired, time for a drink or two. The Wales and France (I think it was France) rugby match has just begun on the telly. There are more people in face paint and silly hats in the crowd than there are at Redemption. Wonder if lazy journalists will ever write articles saying what a load of saddoes sports fans are for dressing up and having fun. Wales is lead by Gareth Thomas but not the right one. This Gareth has lost his front teeth though he's arguably still easier on the eye than Johnny Vegas. Wales start losing almost at once so we go for a sauna.
That done, we hang swimsuits behind the bathroom door where they're likely to be forgotten tomorrow. Time to move on to the Martini and survey the carnage we have wreaked on our bedroom. How did it get like this? It could almost be the room of one of our daughters. The spare bed has disappeared under clothes we brought with us, new clothes from Kathy Sands, a scarf stockpile, yesterday's Independent make-up, pirate stuff, yesterday's Guardian, today's Independent, curlers, Ruler of the Universe voting slips, chocolate money, hats, the last four ginger crunch creams??. Have another Martini, it's the only way.
Time we got dressed up if we're going to. Janet looks scary in her pirate hat and eye patch, brandishing a Martini in one hand and a plastic hook in the other - should I copy the Daily Mail and call her hook-handed from now on? I haven't got a hat, but she's brought me a selection of sailors' baseball hats from her shop. The choice is between Ancient Mariner and Wreck. Thank you very much.
We swathe scarves about our person and I pin Paul the Parrot to my flashy waistcoat. He's rather wobbly - probably been on the rum. Our various weapons are stuck precariously into the scarves; How did the Amagons manage? Question: What are pieces of eight? First guess: A colleague of Seven of Nine who has got badly blown up. By the time we get to the buffet, there's only sausage and mash left. Paul the parrot loses one of his safety pins and becomes irredeemably prone. Hope we can avoid Dead Parrot jokes.
The fancy dress competition has a small but very select number of entrants, and the cabaret that follows is the best yet. A formidably talented fiddle player, quality dance and song, Avon the puppet displaying his Travolta side, Og's gloriously subtitled version of Animals - is Dayna ogling him? Justin IS a Thunderbird puppet, it has to be true. Then for the first time at Redemption, Charles and Fiona from vintage Round the Horne - also a Blake's Seven connection as the original Fiona was played by the late Betty Marsden, who appeared in a 4th season episode alongside Servalan as a slaver (also featured in the B7 blooper reel).
Wobblevision is next in the Rotunda. Quite a large cast, including Charles and Fiona. The episode drawn out of the hat is Children of Auron, continuing the grand tradition of having to enact episode nobody remembers all that well. This time I'm an Auron Bigwig so have nothing much today except look glum in the billiards room and watch my sword doesn't fall off. Janet gets to be Vila - I think she was Second Dead Trooper last time - and operate the teleport, which for the purposes of Wobblevision is a stack of empty Moet et Chandon champagne bottles on the Rotunda first floor. Orac is exquisite in a turquoise ball gown and Zen wears a badge which flashes on and off - keeping faith with 70s BBC special effects.
Technical problems arise when the lift is utilised. Harriet, who as well as directing is playing the pilot - I think - crouches inside the lift door and is nearly whisked away twice before the shot is in the can. Wobblevision productions, in case you don't know, uses an ordinary camera not a movie one. When Scorsese cries "Action!" things move; when Harriet cries "Action" she means "Freeze." We're overlapping with the Cluedo game. Perhaps we should form an alliance - the murderer would of course be Servalan in the Billiards Room with the champagne bottle.
Not sure how Children of Hinckley ends for our work is done and we leave to change into our grim reaper outfits for the disco. These rubber face masks are just not meant for people who wear glasses. Besides, one of us needs to be able to see where we're up to in the Time Warp. Wouldn't want to get someone in the eye with my scythe.
Sunday
Late breakfast, but forgo sausage for once. Kind of sausaged out after last night's dinner. I hadn't made a final decision between Matt Irvine's slides and "Killing Characters; is it becoming acceptable?" but in the event I settle for more coffee and two slices of toast. It's going to be a long day with no time for irrelevancies like lunch and a fan must keep up her strength.
Once again we return to Kathy Sands. With great difficulty I restrain myself from buying anything else but Janet has realised overnight that she's going to need lots of new clothes for the cruise she hasn't yet booked later this year and these are so cheap it would obviously be absurd, nay practically a crime, not to take advantage etc etc.etc.
The 11-12 slot in the programme causes me real anguish. I want to see Room 101, discuss fashion in Blake's 7, and write a Blake's 7 adventure. But it's time for cricket in the Rotunda and that naturally takes precedence. The match proves lively, as does the Rotunda. People crawl under our seats and rummage behind cushions in a desperate search for tribbles, small children hurtle across the floor, balloons descend intermittently from the balconies which are decorated in election posters. The ever-enterprising Londo has plastered the hotel with accusatory posters headed "Og Deadbeat Dad." Janet passes by just as Avon takes his place at the wicket, carrying three dresses to try on (her, not Avon).
We players don't let any of this disturb our concentration.' It begins to look as if Blake's team are rallying. Can they manage to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat, which is going against nature? Most importantly, can Harriet squeeze a second innings in later in the afternoon? People are beginning to assemble for the Ruler of the Universe hustings. The splendid Bender ambles by, a film crew takes up position, more balloons descend. Time to retire for a little liquid refreshment and put on our pirate things again. It takes several minutes to locate the doubloons -handing out chocolate bribes will be our somewhat small contribution to Captain Sparrow's campaign - as Janet has bought all three of the Kathy Sands outfits and they have formed yet another strata of clothing on the spare bed.
Holding them in the Rotunda gives the candidates the opportunity to use the first floor to look down upon us their electorate. Bender doesn't take it as he can't be bothered to climb the stairs, and Og evidently thinks Sex Gods can do it just as well on the floor. Through an interpreter he makes an eloquent speech. (There's an ancient British alphabet called Ogham but I don't know which dialect Og favours). Besides, a body like that make sits own impact. On the Mr Darcyometer Og scores 9 out of 10. He'd have to do the Mr Darcy wet tee-shirt thing to score 10 and that would be inadvisable in a furry creature. Water would not be Og's ally. Captain Sparrow also stays below, possibly because there's no mainmast to ascend, but Acting Ruler Londo sweeps regally up the stairs, castigating her rivals - no true politician would ignore an opportunity to address the populace from a balcony. How true.
We press doubloons on anyone in range, giving two to the returning officer for good luck. Sadly I then betray Captain Jack as Londo requisitions my sword and dagger to pursue him into the bar. The subsequent fight ends back in the Rotunda but happily both parties survived.
After a fresh air break it's back in the Rotunda where Harriet has made time for a second innings. Marcus, involved in a run out, does the decent thing and falls on his sword (pike?) allowing his team mate to continue. His gallant sacrifice is all for nothing as following Sheridan's ill-advised declaration, Blake's IX go on to win. Avon is Man of the Match, and Orac and Zen share the Champagne moment for their sterling performances with the bat. I trust Orac has better luck with the bubbly than with his pint of Black Sheep.
It can't be the closing ceremony already? Yes it is. The list of grateful thanks - Jason inserted thanks to the Bishop for the use of his Finger - is followed by the raffle and competition prizes. Then comes the announcement that Og has enjoyed a landslide victory.
Suggestions are invited for the next Redemption. Another ceilidh please, another performance of Man of Iron later in the evening, mobile mikes for the hustings, comedian and SF fan Mitch Benn as a guest if the money can run to it, and for a different workshop, how about Hopi ear candling - don't know what it is but saw it advertised last year in a chip shop in Tideswell.
Shortly afterwards we have to leave Hinckley behind until 2007. Will I ever know if vampires like black pudding?
Chris Blenkarn