Dick and Dom in Da’ Montfort Hall: the kings of improv return for their 20th anniversary tour

April 18, 2023 by Leave a Comment

Review by John Perry

Hearing the sweet sound of “bogies!” being howled from every direction was a great start to a night of nostalgia and brought a flashback moment to my childhood. It was like being in my front room at age 11 all over again. 2002 seems a lifetime ago since first seeing these household names invade our weekends. But here we are in 2023 sharing smiles again with them.

The masters of mayhem, the kings of improv and the jesters of the BBC. Da’ Bungalow provided me with smiles, laughter and escape from school. It was just a historic moment of children’s entertainment. Something you had to grow up with to understand how special it truly was.

Twenty years later – yes, 20 years – they haven’t changed a bit. Well, minus the flabby bits on their stomachs as Dick referred to them.

Returning with an all-new 2023 in Da’ Bungalow nationwide tour for their 20th anniversary of the hit kids TV show. Remember these guys are quadruple Bafta-award winning presenters. They know how to get a laugh and sell some tickets to the masses.

Besides dominating the De Montfort Hall stage with their incredible talent for cleverly immature and family focused comedy, they break the fourth wall almost constantly throughout the two-plus hours of insanity, and invite audience members to become their torture victims or as they like to refer to them, bungalow heads.

We saw arguments about if celery was a vegetable that resulted in Dom asking the audience to google the answer, mute interrogations from shy contestants with DI Harry Batt, not to mention grown adults wearing underwear on their head and dancing to the ”Pants Dance” song.

Out of context, this entire show seems utterly ludicrous. However, trust me, it makes sense in the moment. These two guys owned the era with their fantastic dry and silly humour. Nothing has changed with their stage show.

It has been years, and I mean years since I have cried with laughter. Side-splitting doesn’t cut it, they disembowelled the audiences’ funny bones and rattled them till they cackled with madness, not being able to take anymore. Then that is when they let you have a few minutes recovery with an interval. Every joke, audience interaction and mishap melded into a show that just felt totally natural. Nothing was faked. Nothing felt forced or out if place. It’s as if they never left our lives, oir our screens.

One of the many highlights was their bungalow cat, a puppet voiced by the strongest northern accent I have ever heard. He sang a song of Leicester, rhyming dry comedic lines with the audience about sites and things they visited before the evening show – referring to Richard III’s museum as the car park corpse show. That attention to detail to get a laugh is masterful. Never insulting us, just a simple tease.

Between the clapping along to memorable songs from the original TV series. The cheering from the crowd as old faces returned, and the jesters themselves pointing out the odd empty seat and need for the tour to make money. You really didn’t have time to breathe between the next infectious smirk they slammed on your face. It was rapid, witty, and outrageous comedy at its finest.

The show climaxes with Dick, Dom and all the participant bungalow heads covered in ”Creamy Muk Muk” attacking each-other as the Ace of Spades plays violently in the background. Just like the original TV counterpart. Certainly, you cannot deny the show is as advertised, and it was indeed the messiest night in the UK and I could not fault it an inch.

If you need a night of reminiscing simpler times, or just need a laugh. They captured the spirit of what made the TV show so special in mere seconds and I can confidently say there is no better comedy act in the UK right now to spend your hard-earned money on than Dick and Dom. So, go knock their door, watch out for purple carpet stains, and visit their infamous bungalow. Just make sure to bring a brolly for to avoid the mess in the front row.

The Dick and Dom tour continues until June. Get tickets here: https://myticket.co.uk/artists/dick-and-dom-in-da-bungalow-live

Filed Under: Entertainment, Features, Leisure, Reviews, Third Year, TV

Game review: SpongeBob SquarePants The Cosmic Shake

January 30, 2023 by Leave a Comment

Review by John Perry

If you’re looking for a brand-new platforming adventure that comes complete with an intoxicating hit of nostalgia, look no further than The Cosmic Shake.

This single-player video game from publishers THQ Nordic encompasses classic platform gameplay, goofy but creative combat, feelgood comedy and SpongeBob’s signature dry wit in one amazingly animated package to delight fans young and old.

The story is simple, and there is nothing wrong with that at all. After all the key demographic for Cosmic Shake is mostly children, fans of the series and potential parents playing the game with their sprogs. It opens with SpongeBob causing a ruckus in Bikini Bottom after a good idea, in theory, ends up releasing an evil jelly cataclysm from King Neptune himself. Now there’s a sentence I never thought I would write.

This transports all the characters you know and love – Mr Krabs, Patrick, Sandy, Plankton and more – into bizarre alternative dimensions that you’re tasked with exploring, before rescuing them to save the day. There are seven of these distinct worlds you’ll encounter on your spongetastic travels, ranging from a western-like land, a movie set, a sea of pirates and more. Let’s not spoil all the surprises, as some of them are a joy to experience for the first time.

All the original voice actors return to lend their nuance comedic and childish whimsy to the narrative. And visually, the game is striking, to say the least, with great artistic styling to rival – if not better – most modern platformers available on the market. The cutscenes stand out in particular, and they would grace an actual SpongeBob movie.

Gameplay is simplistic but rewarding, with new abilities being unlocked world-to-world, so there’s always something to work towards with a fresh feel to each stage. You can even return to those worlds to uncover things you did not have access to before, which is a nice touch. Purple Lamp Studios, the developers have clearly been inspired by the likes of Crash Bandicoot, Astro Bot and other great platformers. Keeping the moment-to-moment gameplay enjoyable is the aim, and they hit the target:  you never know quite what is coming next. I didn’t expect to be using an empty pizza box to glide around, for example, nor did I anticipate a fish hook could prove quite so handy. It has an in-universe use for everything.

During your world-hopping adventures, you will have more than 30 distinct, memorable and hilarious costumes to kit out SpongeBob himself. The majority of them are unlocked via gameplay but some were downloadable content for an additional price or with the “BFF Collector’s Edition” that Is available to pre-order now. Hardcore fans with extra cash to splash … knock yourselves out.

The music is also worth a mention here as it takes you back to watching the cartoon all those years ago, with around 100 songs from the original series to enjoy.

Every aspect has been carefully crafted by designers who love everything that makes SpongeBob, SpongeBob. Even the loading screens use the “A Few Hours Later” transitions.

It’s just a pure-hearted, wholesome, comedic piece of fun for all the family to enjoy. It has strong themes of positivity, learning from mistakes and when to trust strangers. That will teach its younger audience an important lesson. And for the rest of us, there are the twists and broken fourth walls to relish.

I couldn’t fault it. It’s well worth your time and money.

SpongeBob SquarePants: The Cosmic Shake lands on PC, PS4, Xbox One and Nintendo Switch tomorrow (January 31) for the retail price of around £30, depending on the edition you buy.

Filed Under: Third Year, Features, Gaming Tagged With: , ,

‘My father died of a drug overdose when I was four years old’

January 8, 2023 by 2 Comments

Sometimes I’d like to imagine my dad as a billionaire or a spy working on secret missions around the world or a superhero, doing good things and helping others, writes Madi Bowman.

Sometimes it would be fun to think about what birthday cards he might have chosen for me, or what his favourite songs were.

Sometimes I wonder what it might have been like to draw both my parents on art days or address Father’s Day cards to him, rather than just my mum.
Sometimes I wonder what my parents were like when they were together. Did he love her, my mum? Did he love me? Why wasn’t he there to drop me off at school like my best friend Molly’s dad?

I used to wonder how much I looked like him. I still don’t know what he looked like as an adult – and I never knew why there were only pictures of him as a child. Sadly, the truth about my father wasn’t anything I’d ever imagined. The truth was he was a lonely, homeless drug addict who spent his last day on earth face down choking on his own vomit.

My father died from a drug overdose when I was four years old.

Missing someone you don’t know is a strange feeling. Nobody wanted to talk about my dad when I was little. To my nan, his mum, he was an angel who did no wrong. To my uncle Andy, my dad’s younger brother, my dad threw his life away. Andy was angry and upset with the path my dad had chosen. My mum says he was abusive ex who had abandoned her through her pregnancy.

To me, he was a stranger. For years I was told I was too young to know what happened. And as much as I tried to find out about him and the sort of person he was, it made me wish I could go back to pretending he was on a spy mission, like Tracey Beaker used to do.

 

 

He was very troubled, I know that. And sometimes I wonder what could lead a person down the terrible path my dad decided to take. I know people deal with pain and guilt in different ways. Maybe he thought he could never live up to being a good father, which is understandable. But the saddest part, for me, is that he never tried.

My mum has never talked to me about my dad. The mention of his name in my house turns on a tap of emotion that we don’t know how to deal with. So we don’t. I don’t talk about him. We don’t touch that tap. It seems easier that way.
My mum was only 16 years old when she had me and she’s always said ‘we grew up together’ and we have always been close because of that.
She always told me that she loved my dad but the best part about him was me.

My nan has shown me pictures of my dad but, as I said, they were always photos taken from his childhood. Although he died in 2006, I have only seen pictures of the youth he was before the drugs, the homelessness and the bad influences. I don’t know what he was like after that. My nan won’t talk about that. She is in complete denial that he even took drugs.
I used to ask her how he died, and she’s said things like it: ‘Oh, it was an accident at work.’ I used to believe that until I grew older and my questions got better and she couldn’t hide the truth from me. She’d never taken me to visit his grave as she was worried I’d get to upset. She would cry just looking at pictures.

I’ve never had a conversation with my uncle about what happened to my dad. The only time we spoke about my dad was when we went to visit his grave. If I’m honest, I’m scared to ask about him now because I fear what the answers will be.
My uncle Andy is a doctor. He was the clever one. He did well, he worked hard, he got the top grades, went to university and now he has his own business. He was the successful brother. The good brother. I have other uncles but I’m not allowed to see them and Andy doesn’t speak to them either. I don’t know why.

When we visited his grave, it was a strange feeling. There were no flowers. I remember the sky was blank and I felt, as I looked up at this vast expanse of nothing, the sky reflected exactly how I felt.
I didn’t shed a single tear at my dad’s grave. I felt nothing.

The weirdest part was that, for years, I had been using that graveyard as a shortcut to my best friend’s house. I had walked past my dad’s grave so many times and I never knew. I couldn’t believe I had never noticed his name. We stood there, me and my uncle, silent for a while. I remember feeling awkward that I wasn’t more emotional.

I think my uncle felt awkward about his emotions, too. He explained how it had been difficult to visit his brother’s grave because of the resentment he held. But, he said, he had started to realise he needed to be there for me as I’m the only part of his brother he still has. This, his responsibility to the daughter my dad never knew, is what helped him come to terms with his death.

I think I have a natural need to look for the good in people because of my dad.
Everyone makes mistakes and everything has a price. I believe his mistakes have given me a muddled sense of my own identity.

I know, too, that there is more to this story I don’t know. Do I need to know it? Sometimes I think I do. Sometimes I don’t. It’s difficult.

I’m angry that I never had that father-daughter bond. I’m disappointed that he didn’t try harder to turn his life around – if not for him, for me. Did he not care? How could he be so selfish?

The truth is I’ll never get to hear his story. I’ll never hear his reasons, in his own words  – what does his voice even sound like? – and even though I wonder, constantly, if I want to know, I know I never will, and that’s the sad bit.
What a waste.

Filed Under: Features, opinion, Second Year, Today's Top Story

From Philly to Leicester – an American fan’s perspective on supporting the Foxes

December 23, 2022 by Leave a Comment

By Jayden Whitworth

For most, travelling to the football to watch their favourite football team entails a short train journey, or drive. But for Ben Ferree, he travelled into the future, and across the Atlantic to watch his favourite team, Leicester, take on Leeds United. Jayden Whitworth talks to Ben about what it’s like supporting from America and where he sees the game going.

THE FRESH PRINCE OF LEICESTER: Ben Ferree pictured outside the fanstore before the game against Leeds.

Leicester. The heart of the East Midlands. The creators of the Walkers Crisp. Gary Lineker. Red Leicester. Pork Pies. David Attenborough. Home to the Foxes and the Tigers. 

Leicester has produced some of England’s finest pleasures.

But few Americans would have been able to tell you exactly where Leicester is. They may not have heard of Leicester before. 

That changed in 2016.

Eden Hazard’s stunner for Chelsea meant Leicester City Premier League were crowned champions. An achievement that no-one thought possible. 

More than 3,000 miles away in Philadelphia, Leicester City were about to take on a new fan, among thousands of others, as a love and passion had been sparked for Philadelphian Ben Ferree.

Philly Cheesey-Grin: Fans gathered at a watchalong

Ben, 24, who lives in Philadelphia, has been following Leicester City since 2016. 

He journeyed across the Atlantic and through time zones to watch Leicester take on Leeds United. 

Supporting the Foxes from the USA proves to be difficult at times, but Ben loves it.

“It is honestly a great experience supporting Leicester City from the USA,” he says.

“Premier League fanship is very different from here in the UK, in the sense that you’re not born into a team, it’s not based on where you live, so it’s a chance for people to pick teams to try and find a connection. A lot of people end up being ‘big six’ fans and it’s a little solace in that aspect.

“One of the best things about being a Leicester fan, even in the US, it does feel like a tight-knit community, it feels like a family as cliché as that is. When you get to the pub at 10am for a 3pm kick-off, we’re all talking to each other, we’re all discussing how everyone has been over the last week,’ he says.

In his time supporting the Foxes, he has joined the rollercoaster of emotions that being a Leicester fan entails, with Ben watching Leicester lift the FA Cup for the first time, from the States.

“So, for the FA Cup, I was in my senior year of college, and I decided that I wasn’t going to go to the pub, I don’t want to be around other people, I want to watch this alone in my living room,” he says.

“I was on the edge of my seat for all 90 minutes, and I will never forget Tielemans’ goal, it was incredible, but I’ll also never forget seeing Wes Morgan get subbed on and being so excited and thinking this is a great way to see out this game,” he says.

HopePhils: Ben (right) pictured with LCFC fans

“Seeing what it meant to everyone and how big of an accomplishment that was, is something that I will remember forever and honestly, even today, first day being like in Leicester itself, I think it put in perspective just how much that means,” he says.

The biggest problem that American fans have with watching Premier League football is the difference in time zones, early starts and late nights are sometimes on the agenda. 

“We’re on the East Coast, so I have to say it’s not the worst thing in the world 3pm kickoffs in England are 10am kick-offs in Philadelphia,” he says.

“The night games are a 3pm kick-off generally, so that’s not too bad, you can usually slide out of work a little early.”

“The ones that are not great are the 12.30pm kick-offs, that’s a 7.30am kick-off for us, but I will say on the West Coast they’re three hours behind the East Coast so 3pm kick-offs are at 7am for them,” he says.

Ben is part of a supporter group in Philadelphia called the Phillyfoxes, allowing he and other Leicester fans meet to watch the Leicester games. 

This is one of many supporter groups in the USA, with fan groups in New York and San Diego.

Rocky Horizons: LCFC fans in Tir na nOg Irish Pub

“The San Diego Foxes have a pub out on the west coast that opens up at 4:30 in the morning, there are always probably five to ten of them out there that early so honestly, it’s not the worst thing in the world,” he says.

“It’s kind of fun to go out at 10am, have a pint, see some friends, watch the match, and sing a few songs.”

There is much debate surrounding the idea of playing Premier League football overseas at the moment. Some suggest that it would bring in a huge amount of money that would help clubs, but some argue that it would lose the essence of the game. The NFL in America has begun branching out and playing matches in England as well. 

“So obviously football in America is a big topic at the moment, I don’t doubt that there will be competitive games played in America, it’s bound to happen,” he says.

“I think it will raise some issues, one of the great things about football is that you have 38 games, one home and one away, so it’s balanced in that sense.”

“If you play competitive games in America, that balance will get thrown off. I think money-wise it’s going to happen at some point I just hope we continue to respect where it came from, and the fans, and not sell out too much to it, but the game is growing rapidly in America, so we will see,” he says.

Some people find the Leicester City project hard to describe. Hard to put into words. Unbelievable. But Ben sums it up in just one word. 

“The simplest word I can give you, to sum up, Leicester City is a community,” he says.

“It’s something you just don’t get with other clubs, especially in the States. I feel that when I’m here as well, going to the pubs in town, everyone knows each other.

“There is just such a great, community feel here,” he says.

For Leicester fans, the rollercoaster will continue. There will be ups and downs. 

But that’s the thrill of it and American fans seem to love it too. 

Leicester is no longer an unknown, it is a city known for its never give up attitude.

Filed Under: Latest, Features, Football, Third Year

Ignoring the hysteria: Qatar’s World Cup through the lens of an LGBT fan

December 18, 2022 by Leave a Comment

Much has been made of Qatar’s awarding of the FIFA World Cup, specifically its record on LGBT issues. Ben Stevens speaks to David Lewis, a Welsh LGBT fan who went to Qatar, for his take on the most controversial World Cup in history.

Al Thumama Stadium, Qatar. Credit: Vecteezy.

Tapping his leg furiously as he sits in a departure lounge at Heathrow Airport, 26-year-old David Lewis feels a buzz.

He is excited and optimistic. The moment he has dreamed of since he was a boy is just around the corner. The moment for which he has saved up long and hard is about to begin.

David is about to jet off and watch his beloved Wales play at the FIFA World Cup, his nation’s first appearance at the tournament for 62 years. He travels alone but knows he can’t miss this moment for the world. 

“As soon as we won the play-off game against Ukraine in the summer, I immediately started looking at flights and hotels,” David says.

“I just knew at that point that nothing was going to stop me from getting to Qatar. I was just hell-bent on going.”

David says he is excited, but he knows deep down his words are somewhat of a charade. He flicks through the sports sites on his phone, seeing that the frenzy whipped up by the press about the Middle East country hosting the tournament is still in overdrive.

He feels his chest tighten with apprehension – as it would if you were a gay man travelling to a country where homosexuality is illegal.

David knows he probably shouldn’t be going, that he is taking a risk. He knows the safer option is to watch on at home with friends and family, with the Christmas tree up and the lights on in the background.

But he also knows that this is an experience he might not ever get to see again.

“Strangely enough, my first impression of Doha was that the place was incredible,” David says of the Qatari capital, a world away from his home in Tycroes, a small village 15 miles north of Swansea.

“I remember I was feeling a bit jittery but everyone was kind and welcoming. I don’t really know what I was expecting but I didn’t necessarily anticipate how blasé about the whole thing everyone would be.

“Everyone there, certainly the Qatari nationals anyway, seemed to be completely in their own bubble. They were either completely oblivious to the criticism by the Western media or just totally shutting it down and ignoring it.

“What I was seeing on the ground was different to the narrative being described back home.”

FINAL STEPS: Stadium 974 in Doha just before the tournament began. Credit: John Lacombe.

David has tickets for Wales’s first two group stage games against the United States and Iran and he plans to watch the final group game against England in a fan zone in the city.

Having explored Doha for a couple of days and begrudgingly watched the Three Lions get off to an emphatic start against Iran, it was nearly time for Wales’s first World Cup game since 1958 at the Ahmad bin Ali Stadium in Al-Rayyan, a suburb of Doha.

After two carefree days of sightseeing however, that nervous feeling started to course through David’s body again – and it wasn’t just from the anticipation of the game.

He gets to the stadium a bit later than he originally had planned. The new metro system built in Doha specifically for the tournament is exceptionally busy, as fans try and get from one stadium to another. There are a few delays, but nothing major.

He starts to see some videos on his phone, some of which end up being shared hundreds of times across the social networks. He squints his eyes at his screen to get a better look, but he clearly sees some Welsh LGBT fans having some problems at the ticket gates.

“I don’t know what the exact nature of the trouble was but I assumed it stemmed from some of the fans wearing the rainbow bucket hats and rainbow tops underneath their Wales shirts,” David explains.

“I remember subconsciously pulling my phone towards my chest whilst I was still on the train. All of my preconceived thoughts from back home about what might happen came flooding back.

“I suddenly questioned whether they were going to allow me into the stadium. Maybe someone might think I look gay and not let me in.

“I was actually quite scared, not only for myself but for that group of fans too. As a gay man, I’m used to dealing with a few issues like this, but it’s an entirely different ball game when you’re in a nation that is oppressive towards our community.”

Now off the train and with increased angst and trepidation, David presents his ticket at the gate. He wonders if he was wearing a rainbow hat or top whether he would face the same problems as his fellow fans. He isn’t, and he is let in with a wide smile from the guard and with a minimum amount of fuss.

He moves through the stadium and sits with a group of Welsh fans. The last-minute ban on alcohol in the arena fails to diminish his now buoyant mood an iota. He hardly drinks anyway – and never at the football.

David’s ten-day stay in Doha ends as Wales crash out of the tournament with a whimper. Despite his country’s poor performance, he has no regrets about going.

“It’s a shame we went out so early, but despite everything I would do it again in a heartbeat,” he says.

“I think most people within the LGBT community appreciate the concern set out for us in advance of the tournament, although I would be a hypocrite to say that Qatar shouldn’t have hosted the World Cup, having attended it myself.

“The fact of the matter is that gay people are still looking over their shoulder in lots of places, not just Qatar, and until we feel entirely safe in our own countries, how can we expect to feel safe in others?”

Filed Under: Third Year, Features, Latest
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