WoD 4: Simon MacCorkindale

Dr Jonathan Chase... wealthy, young, handsome. A man with the brightest of futures. A man with the darkest of pasts. From Africa's deepest recesses, to the rarefied peaks of Tibet, heir to his father's legacy and the world's darkest mysteries. Jonathan Chase, master of the secrets that divide man from animal, animal from man... Manimal!

When The Wall first noted earlier this morning that 'Dashing British Actor' (courtesy NYTimes), Simon MacCorkindale had died, our thoughts turned to those traditional winter saturday nights watching Casualty on BBC1. There is something comforting about Casualty. We don't know if it's the unrelenting predictablity of it all (all the greatest TV drama's have an utterly inflexible narrative arc - I give you: Petrocelli! Quincy! The A-Team! Knight Rider!), cue introduction of the episodes new characters as families feverishly wager on who will die horribly, followed by unprofessional meddling in patients lives by nurse/doctor, and melodramatic 'event' in hospital creating challenging environment within which hospital staff can conduct medical miracle and simultaneous relationship trauma. Mr MacCorkindale's involvment in all this is duly saluted.

However, soon after that reverie, The Wall was suddenly struck with MacCorkindale's finest hour, the mighty Manimal. In this ludicrously short-lived series he played Dr Jon Chase a man with a unique crime-busting ability... A playboy (ain't they all?) who, with enormous concentration, could change himself, shape-shift if you will, into any animal he fancied. Our memory is that this involved heavy breathing and the skin/flesh on the back of the good doctors hand bubbling and throbbing until it turned to fur or feathers or snakeskin. Theoretically Dr Jon could change into any animal he deemed suitable to fight the crime in question (he would be the crime solving side-kick to Det. Brooke Mackenzie, the only other person aware of his powers being his good friend Ty Earl), but virtually every episode saw the appearance of a panther or a hawk, with the occasional other animal appearances having been achieved with an off-camera transformation. In these guises he would help solve cases including smuggling, kidnapping, gambling, exortion, a scrimshaw(!) and a girl who had been found living with wolves in the forests of India... Genius.

Sadly, Manimal was cancelled before it had completed its first season. Not before we at The Wall had been impressed enough to include manic staring at our improbably throbbing hands into our playground repertoire...

WoD 3: Solomon Burke

Some discussion has been had here at The Wall as to whether the big man of soul really merited a place on the bulwark of deference, but eventually it was decided that his influence was sufficiently elevated on two counts.


Solomon Burke died 10th Oct on a plane bound for Schiphol Airport Amsterdam, bringing to an end a rollercoaster of a life in music. He was a huge touring and songwriting success in the 60's, when he wrote and recorded his first justification for ascent of The Wall: Everybody Needs Somebody To love. Of course, despite his own rendering of the song, a Rolling Stones cover, and a version by Wilson Pickett, this song was truly made great in 1980 by the Blues Brothers and will be forever thought of accompanied by Ray Ban shades, pork-pie hats and fitted black suits: the staple 80's fancy dress outfit for one tall skinny guy and a short, fat dude with extreme personality and drug consumption...


Though Solomon's popularity waned he enjoyed a resurgence having been inducted into the Rock n Roll Hall of Fame (a sort of musically based lesser brother of The Wall... for the living) in 2001. Subsequent gig-goers thrilled to spectacle of the by-now mighty Burke being carried on-stage on a massive gold throne. All thirty stone of him. He also ran his own church (the 'House of God for All People' - which is nice), and finally, his second credential for The Wall fathered 21 children and 90 grandchildren. Which just goes to show...

remember people, no matter who you are and what you do to live, thrive and survive, there's still some things that make us all the same... you, me, them, everybody... everybody...

(and, look, it's TOTP too...!)

WoD 2: Arthur Penn

Arthur Penn is most admired for the film Bonnie and Clyde - a film about the thirties as allegory for the sixties. His mastery of intensity and realism initially found only criticism for the violence visited by and upon B and C, but eventually won him plaudits and indeed 3 Oscars. But it ain't his masterpiece that gets Art on the Wall, it's the film that was scuppered by his cast and allegedly lead him to quit film for Broadway for over 5 years...


The Missouri Breaks is bonkers. When I first saw it I was mesmerised by Brando. Not for any scholarly filmic reasons, but just because he is so weird in it. I read that the scene that shows off all the hallmarks of classic Penn is that in which Marlon awakes to find Jack Nicholson poised to slit his throat. Well, p'raps. But my favorite scene is that in which they converse in Jack's 'garden' after Marlon has 'crawled up' on him. Here is one of those great movie moments where two of the most carnivorous scene-chewers face-off. And what a stand. Marlon is exuding some kind of strange menace expressed through the medium of camp-oirish (check out the hand on hip stance), whilst Jack is (for once) a picture of studied cool. The 'Jack-as-force-of-nature' Nicholson performances that have become so ordinary ("You want the truth...?") is eschewed for something that says more through less. Especially the hankie. Here at the Wall we're not schooled enough to know who succeeds in stealing the scene but I have yet to see two movie giants grapple with such a successful blend of sublime and ridiculous on any other screen.


So, despite all the stories of Brando being, well, Marlon Brando (turning up in drag, too lazy to learn lines etc etc), Arthur Penn: it is for Missouri Breaks that we salute you. Now enjoy the scene...

DEAD GOOD #1 Max Wall : Master clown beloved of Samuel Beckett & Freddie Starr. He bridged the sublime and the ridiculous...

A weekend conversation at Mortality Towers alighted on the great Max Wall. As blogged below, the WOD exists primarily to celebrate the recently departed. But what of those deceased whose demise pre-dates the Wall? Surely they too should be allowed an eternal moment in the blogosphere?
To whit, DEAD GOOD, a small but illustrious corner of the WOD wherein we celebrate the longtime gone. And what better way to begin our digest of the dead than with this quasi eponymous titan of light, medium and heavyweight entertainment? Mr Wall sloughed the coil on the 20th May 1990 having collapsed over lunch at Simpsons on The Strand. He was 82 years old and his career, which began in Music Hall, encompassed Crossroads,Waiting for Godot ,a single for (WOD favourite) Stiff records and much more besides. Though his famous admirers included Samuel Beckett and John Cleese (who acknowledged him as an influence) he’ll be best remembered in the guise of the piano playing Professor Wallofski whose lank wig, black tights and outsize boots were appropriated into the act of seventies Saturday night TV staple, Freddie Starr. Here's the real thing...

WoD entry number 1: It started with Hunter.

The Wall of death is resurrected... The original Wall existed in my office over my desk. It's population grew over a period of years. Each new member could be anyone from anywhere, the sole qualification being that myself and my fellow curator, CB, felt suitably culturally touched by that person. Oh, and of course, that they had shuffled off this mortal coil. The first up was the mighty Hunter S Thompson, Gonzo journo, political commentator, and drug imbiber extraordinaire. And so it grew from there.

But, the reaper comes to us all... so the Wall itself bit the dust. And finds itself here, the first member of the Wall of Death virtual rebirth...

The original Wall of Death