Whilst Listmas likes to fixate on the new, what releases within the 12 months that make up a year are never wholly indicative of one’s entire artistic experiences during that timeframe. (Well, not unless they’re a miserable unadventurous git, anyway.) I often find it equally as interesting to read about media that a critic/writer discovered or enjoyed in a wholly different way for the first time long after its was originally released. Both for what it reveals about the person who really took to it, and for how it extends the lifespan of art in a culture that’s nowadays detrimentally all about the next thing, the newest thing, the hypebeast engagement train.
Well, I like to try and be the change I want to see in the world. So, going off of 2021’s Listmas where we were focused on comfort media during the COVID times, I asked our Set The Tape staffers if they’d be willing to share a few of their favourite non-2023 media experiences. Why not join in by telling us yours in the comments or on the socials? Art isn’t just for Listmas, it’s for life. – Callie Petch
READ MORE: Normal Women (Ainslie Hogarth) – Book Review
Colditz
There was a time, not that long ago, when Action Man, Commando comics, and Where Eagles Dare were the staples of British pop culture for many. Gone were movies like The Cruel Sea and Malta Story, realistic portrayals of an unforgiving war. Instead, it was all about giving Fritz a bloody nose and getting back to Blighty in time for tea and medals. This is the culture into which Colditz, a series which ran for two seasons from 1972 to 1974 was launched. And it was amazing.
It’s hard to imagine what kind of popularity this show had. Many people of a certain age will have fond memories of it. It was popular enough to launch a board game that’s still in production to this day, and it boasted some impressive names in the cast. But, when viewed now, what stands out the most is the fact that it isn’t really about daring-do or putting one over on the Germans.
Yes, the series has some absolutely bonkers escape attempts, most of them based on things that actually happened, but it also contains some amazing moments of television. Artful performances from regulars like Bernard Hepton, David McCallum, and Anthony Valentine lift it above the usual fare as we watch the story of the prison camp unfold. Over time people grow and change; we learn that the guards are as much prisoners as the POWs they watch over. What remains is the harsh brutality of war, from the despicable murder of a group of commandos to the capture of a collaborator by the Gestapo. And, of course, the repeated failures to escape.
Finally, it’s just great TV. Of course there are one or two outings that aren’t quite fantastic – though there are no absolute clunkers – but at times it delivers gold. ‘Tweedledum’ remains one of the finest episodes of TV you’ll ever likely watch. If you’ve never seen, or maybe even never heard of this series, do give it a chance. – Paul Regan
READ MORE: Listmas 2023 – Music
Seeing Aliens in the cinema
I’ve already written extensively about how this year I got to see Aliens in the cinema for the first time ever, and lucky for me I can write about it all over again and make you hear it a second time!
I grew up watching Aliens thanks to an uncle who didn’t really police what videos of his I borrowed and watched, and I strongly believe his relaxed attitude helped to create my love of both science fiction and horror (I also borrowed Predator a lot). I don’t know the exact age that I first saw Aliens, but I do remember having watched it as far back as I can remember, and it’s always been a part of my life. It’s a film that I could probably quote near all of the dialogue to if you were to put me on the spot. It’s become lodged in both my brain and my heart in ways that no other film has.
Over the years it’s been shown in cinemas a few times, usually in the kinds of cinemas that show nothing but older genre films. Sadly, I’ve either missed those showings, or have just not been able to travel across the country to do it. But this year it was released just down the road from me, and I jumped at the chance to see it on the big screen. It was an amazing experience, one that took me back to my childhood (weird for that film I know), and made me appreciate how this film helped to shape me into the person I am today. – Amy Walker
READ MORE: Conan the Barbarian #6 – Comic Review
Turn-On
Despite living in an age of multi-platform streaming, there are still some things which remain frustratingly beyond our reach, be that either via on-demand or physical media. The archives and vaults have yet to be liberated of all the varied treasures they hold, with some things seeming destined to be under lock-and-key forever.
One of the most elusive out of all the unreleased TV series, however, unexpectedly emerged in 2023, without warning. Bootleg copies of the first – and, to be fair, only – two episodes of American sketch comedy Turn-On made their way onto YouTube, prompting an official release by its co-creator George Schlatter. Turn-On has the rather dubious distinction of being one of the few television shows ever to be cancelled whilst its first episode was still on the air, back in February 1969.
The two episodes are curate’s eggs to be sure, with some of the material having dated considerably less well than other parts. However, from an historical perspective, being able to watch Turn-On at all – let alone legitimately – is a genuine thrill, and a rare treat. Played out against a plain white void as its backdrop, and accompanied by a constant and rather unsettling Moog synthesiser soundtrack, the frenetic pace that’s set by Turn-On makes its nearest recent equivalent for quickfire sketch comedy – The Fast Show – feel almost sluggish and languid in comparison.
But, yes, that tingle of excitement over finally being able to see something so controversial and fabled does make Turn-On a rather giddying and heady experience, and perhaps one of the biggest – and most illicit – discoveries of the year. It’s time – at long last – to turn on Turn-On. – Lee Thacker
READ MORE: Listmas 2023 – TV
The Ratchet & Clank Saga
My gaming backlog is varied, covers at least four console generations, and is longer than Chris Jericho’s list of 1004 holds. There are games both in my drawers and on my hard drives that have been sat, untouched, untested for several years after purchasing because my time management and spending impulse control, frankly, suck. One such game still sat untried for 24 months is Ratchet & Clank: Rift Apart, the ninth mainline instalment in Insomniac Games’ venerable action-platformer franchise and the series’ first foray onto the ninth generation of games consoles. I picked it up when I got my PlayStation 5 yet, in doing so, I also picked up copies of all the prior mainline Ratchets at the same time with the intention of playing (and in some cases replaying) them all – including acquiring the Platinum Trophies for those applicable – before getting to Rift Apart. After all, I’ve always enjoyed this series, but there have been both major gaps in the entries I’ve experienced (Tools of Destruction was the only PS3-era entry I played somehow) and literal decades since the ones I had previously played. Why not go on a journey and see how it’s evolved?
As you may be able to surmise, it’s a journey that I’ve been taking my sweet time with, but not for fault of the games themselves. From the titular debut in 2002 up to the 2016 re-imagination also of the same name, Ratchet & Clank hasn’t so much “evolved” as “meticulously refined.”. Arguably the biggest leap came from Ratchet 1 to 2003’s Ratchet & Clank: Going Commando, where the ‘Spyro with guns’ prototype fully fleshed itself out into its own unique thing – being where RPG-esque upgrade progression, arena tournaments, and a proper New Game+ Challenge Mode were introduced – and every game afterwards has been about finetuning that core, upping the scale, and one unique hook to briefly explore. In doing so, the Ratchet series has become a little comfort gaming staple for me. A blast of familiar, but gradually tweaked mix of chaotic gunplay, light puzzling, and solid traversal wrapped up in a constantly charming universe of cartoon space operatics which never outstays its welcome (campaigns rarely lasting more than 14 hours first run) I can relax into when the world gets me pressed.
So, at a certain point, I found myself saving each game, not to avoid repetitious burnout, but as a mental health break for when the shit going on outside starts becoming too much to bear. Where I can just absorb myself in something whose core remains dependable whilst the differences and improvements – Going Commando’s military battlefield scenarios, Tools of Destruction’s modernised control inputs, A Crack in Time’s expanded spaceship sections and dramatic story – can be more fully appreciated. I’ve enjoyed this journey, there’s just Rift Apart to go. I’ll miss that cat and his toaster when all’s done. – Callie Petch
READ MORE: The 10 Best Needle-Drops of 2023
Uncanny X-Men
The X-Men are my favourite corner of the Marvel Universe. The huge cast of characters have some amazing creations in them, and whilst some of the stories are more like terrible soap operas, there are some great runs and events across its history. I also think me being part of a minority that is often demonised in the media and by politicians I very much relate to the ‘feared and hated’ and continually treated like sub-human type stories in the X-Men’s catalogue. Magneto was right, by the way.
With current X-Men stuff revolving around the Krakoan Age, and being a huge commitment, I thought I’d wait until it was done before diving in and reading through it all. So, to fill the time until then I decided to go back to where X-Men began as the thing we really know it as now. Not the original Stan Lee stuff, but Chris Claremont‘s Giant-Sized X-Men, which not only introduced characters like Nightcrawler, Storm, Colossus, and Wolverine to the team, but created many of the best stories that people still recommend and adapt.
I’ve been reading my way through the series since that point, covering things like the Dark Phoenix saga, Days of Future Past, Storm becoming the leader of the X-Men, and the introduction of Shadowcat to the universe. I knew Claremont created a lot of stuff, and brought in things others had created, but I was shocked by just how much stuff that is now just an intrinsic part of the X-Men began in this era. Old comics can sometimes be hard reads, and there are times these issues can be tough to get through, but even the worst of this era are still fantastic to read. It’s like reading the true birth of the X-Men. – Amy Walker
READ MORE: That’s Just Weird with Aaron Mahnke – 12 Days of Podmas
The Complete and Utter History of Britain
Despite the tally gradually coming down every year, the overall number of missing television shows still remains frustratingly high. Finds can turn up in the most diverse places, such as a cinema in Nigeria, or the basement of a Mormon church in London. However, 2023 turned up an unexpected discovery, dropped without any fanfare and advance publicity, right onto ITVX. The strangest thing was that it had been in ITV’s archive all along, albeit misfiled for all these years. At long last, we have the complete and utter The Complete and Utter History of Britain.
For comedy aficionados, this was – ironically, given who was involved with writing and starring in the show – quite a Holy Grail of lost TV discoveries. The Complete and Utter History of Britain was an immediate and direct precursor to Monty Python’s Flying Circus, brought to us by Michael Palin and Terry Jones. Unseen since it finished airing in February 1969, the show was long thought to be mostly missing-believed-wiped, as only the first two ‘as-broadcast’ episodes existed, plus a low-quality video recording of the first two episodes produced – which had been heavily pared down and edited together – and film inserts.
All the surviving material had been released on a DVD & Blu-ray set by the sadly-missed Network Distribution, but now we have all six episodes available to stream. And what a joy it is to see one of Python’s antecedents in all its glory, after being frustratingly absent for all these years, with its core premise of presenting pieces of history as if television had been around to capture those events for posterity. Such an unexpected treat for 2023, and a complete and utter delight to have this back. – Lee Thacker