This is slightly outside the boundaries of our remit, but it’s a special occasion. At 21:15 this evening on BBC Radio 2 the first episode of The Adventures of Sexton Blake is broadcast. Edit: You can listen to it here – for the love of all that’s holy, skip to 3:40 lest your ears burn at the horrendous programme that preceded it. Sexton Blake is a fascinating fictional figure, whose detective stories have been told by over 200 authors since 1893, each without a care for canon. However, in all his 116 years, he’s never been in a videogame. We bring this programme to your attention for another reason: it is co-written by Mr J Nash.
I wish no disservice to his co-author, novelist and columnist Mil Millington, a remarkably funny man who has collaborated with Nash on multiple projects (not least The Weekly), and perhaps most famous for his website-cum-Guardian column-cum novel, Things My Girlfriend and I Have Argued About. But I believe he will understand that we shift the focus over to Mr Nash.
It is safe to say that without the writing of J Nash, Rock, Paper, Shotgun wouldn’t know what to be. Ask Jim, Kieron or me to name our influences and you’ll hear his name come up straight away (among others who deserve huge credit, but fail to have a programme on the radio this evening). (Alec’s unmagazined childhood meant he escaped the direct influences, but is as victim to the effects as any other writing passionately in the industry.) He was a part of the team that made Amiga Power such an extraordinary magazine, editor of the glorious Your Sinclair in its last few months, co-writer of Digiworld (along with Stuart Campbell and some fresh new writer called Kieron Gillen) and frequent contributor to PC Gamer in its early years (and indeed its recent years). His outstanding, almost other-worldly writing created a generation of writers desperately trying to mimic him. Us.
I could witter on for many decades, but instead shall simply share with you some chunks of a preview for a game rather boldly called “Frogger”, from issue 48 of PC Gamer in 1997, which I reproduce without anyone’s permission.
Unquestionably the most ingenious Frogger rip-off in the days before lawyers were invented was Jogger. At a stroke, the game suddenly made sense, especially the bit where you fell into the water and drowned. This is not strictly relevant, but adds local colour.
Frogger, readers who steeple their fingers to promote thought and healthful blood flow may recall, was a 1981 arcade game about this thing: a frog, who had to jump across a motorway and then a river without perishing squashingly, in order to reach a hole in which he looked uncommonly pleased.
And slightly later,
The leaping around has been retained, but now you can scamper anywhere on a giant mazy level in your attempt to rescue five baby frogs before the traditional 60 seconds expire. Except in the water, obviously. Because you drown. (”Not a lot made sense in the early ’80s,” points out Chris [Down, producer], powerfully refusing to be drawn. But what about Frogger 2, eh? You were in the water all the time then. “But that was bizarre.” An enviable unflappability.)
Eventually reaching,
There’s also a two- to four-player find-the-flags network race, where you may stun your opponents with an eerie bellow and jump on their shoulders to impede their egress before thundering lorries. “What’s addictive then is addictive now,” said Chris. Of it.
And yet I thought new Frogger a vile thing. Although palpably unfinished, I found its perspective unworkable (zooming out to maximum distance was the only playable angle, at which point it’s an overhead game), the brutally unforgiving slippery edges hateful rather than witty, the additions bafflingly unnecessary and the sense of advancement of the simple original lost in the clutter. Readers, I truly, dearly, sincerely and knuckle-gnawingly hope and trust that the closing months of development make me look such a fool.
Someone wrote to me today, as sometimes people do, to ask for advice toward getting involved with games criticism. I think my answer is: read the work of J Nash and Stuart Campbell, and once you understand, apply.
On this basis, tune into The Adventures of Sexton Blake on Radio 2 this evening, at 21.15. Forrins can listen to it live via the magics of their website. I shall edit in the Listen Again link so soon as its again-ness comes to be. Below are the four videos created to explain the series (which I have spectacularly failed to do). Edit: Listen here. It appears to work outside our isle, which is splendid.
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Wow… well. That pretty much just single-handedly justified my license fee for another year. And it wasn’t even on TV.
Guys, this was so awesome! Thank you RPS for giving me the heads up on this, or I would have missed out.
Also, yes, that thing at the beginning is pretty not good. I like jazz, but not people who play it. My college’s Gamers Society is right beside the Jazz Soc. Who play anything.
That was fair awesome. I’ll be tuning in next time!
@Mr Weir: Excellent work, on both this and Discworld Noir.
@KBKarma: Ta.
Ah, Noir was so long ago… My other company is Earcom (www.earcom.net), I still mostly work in games.
Gosh, yes – Operation Flashpoint. What about that level where you were on foot, in the middle of nowhere, with nothing, and you had to find your way to the pick-up point navigating by the stars. Those were the days. Where are the ‘Three hours, walking, navigating by the stars‘ levels on Halo, eh? No wonder there’s teenage pregnancies and tidal flooding nowadays.
That was rather good, I must say. I’m reminded of the first episode of Stripperella (bear with me) in that the sheer density of “the jokes you make with this premise” in the episode was such that I wondered if they could keep it up for very many episodes (answer: they couldn’t).
But no doubt these chaps are made of sterner stuff and I wish them all the best.
Incidentally, is it me or, now that radio is dead, we’re perplexingly experiencing a new golden age of “radio”.
@Mr Millington: Morrowind comes close, with “walking for an hour or so, navigating by a vaguely unhelpful map.” Also, thanks to you as well for this.
That was simply wonderful, but wait – Mil Millington has never met Jonathan Nash in person? Has anyone? I sense he might be comic persona adopted at will by those inspired by the legacy, like Zorro.
I’ve met Nash. OR HAVE I? No, I have. In a pub.
Walker and I have too. Though I have no idea where in the country he currently is.
KG
No, I’ve never met Mr Nash. Our never meeting developed many years ago from a trivial happenstance to a sacred duty. I was introduced to someone I was *told* was Mr Nash once, though; but that turned out to be the assembled company – Stuart Campbell, Tim Norris et al – playing a joke on me (the famous but now sadly underused ‘An Evening with a False Mr Nash’ joke). However, even then, my suspicions were ignited quite early on when ‘Mr’ ‘Nash’ started talking about football, and became almost incendiary when he asked me a question, about football.
@Mr Millington, Considering Mr. Nash’s wildly digressive, historically inspired, eclectic and generally lovely writing it’s somehow appropriate that he has some other similarities to Thomas Pynchon.
Congrations on the radio show, it’s got the most honestly funny gags per minute I’ve heard since the radio series of the Mighty Boosh.
Finally found time to listen to this. How excellent, and the long-running lines (”jackanapes” made me wee a little) made me feel pathetically special. Cheers, gents. So, how long will Mr. Nash be up this time before he retires to his cryo-rest?
Attempting to listen to ep2 now, but sheesh, does BBC always put up recordings that start with the last 10 minutes of the previous program?
I read through this whole post thinking it was about Saxton Hale…