Face It: A Memoir
by Debbie Harry (HarperCollins, 2019)
audiobook read by Debbie Harry (Jammer Audiobooks, 2020)
Like many memoirs, this focusses disproportionately on the early years—particularly the New York punk scene of the 1970s, for which Harry has a nostalgic fondness (without romanticising). Her account reveals a learn-as-you-go approach to life, reflected upon without pretence or dissembling.
Chess: Master the Moves
by Leonard Barden; ill. G. Domenech (Chancerel, 1977)
A bizarre if collectible primer aimed at beginners but intelligible only to experienced players, its wisdom delivered through fine-detailed comic-strip illustrations where mediaeval knights discuss strategy, and condescending coach Steve wows chess groupie Sonya (and then an entire harem!). Oh, the 1970s…
Dangerous Remedy
dir. Ken Cameron (ABC, 2012)
A disquieting if murky ‘based on’ historical drama centred around Australian abortion laws and police corruption in the late 1960s. Medical campaigner Dr Bertram Wainer (Jeremy Sims) acts almost as an antihero, evincing bullying manipulation in single-minded pursuit of a just cause.
Blondie: Against the Odds
by Amanda Conner & Jimmy Palmiotti; ill. Montos (Z2 Comics, 2023)
A trippy graphic-novel biopic one-sixth showcasing the squalor of 1970s New York and then the early lives of Debbie Harry and Chris Stein (ignoring the other band members), and five-sixths devoted to imaginative if highly tenuous explorations of fourteen famous Blondie songs.
Jesus Christ Superstar
dir. Norman Jewison (1973)
A feature-film, multiracial, hippie-toked, death-hallucinatory reenvisaging of the musical, set in the deserts of 1970s Israel and Palestine. Carl Anderson emerges unscathed as Judas. Most bizarre scene: Josh Mostel (King Herod) busting out moves that Mike Myers would channel for Austin Powers.
Endeavour, Series 8
by Russell Lewis (ITV, 2021)
Set fifty years before their broadcast, Series 8’s three feature-length stories work better as historical pieces than as full-fledged murder investigations. That said, Morse is back on track to morph from brilliant young puzzle solver into John Thaw’s slower, more jaded incarnation.
The Cinema Swindle
by Terrance Dicks (Blackie, 1980)
Again, a somewhat underwhelming mystery. Mickey, the most rambunctious but least interesting of the Irregulars, sees some action, but the others do very little. The book is most noteworthy for its frank, even nostalgic depiction of the seedier side of 1970s London.
Full Bore
by William McInnes (Hachette, 2016); audiobook read by William McInnes (W F Howes, 2017)
A gentle, rather wistful gathering together of memories and musings. McInnes presents recollections within recollections, the weave of his stories constituting less a riotous series of anecdotes and more an appreciation of life as a mosaic of shared happiness and small moments.
The Apparition Phase
by Will Maclean (William Heinemann, 2020); audiobook read by Theo Solomon (Penguin Audio, 2020)
The first few chapters promise gothic horror and suspense. Then Abi disappears and we’re left with gormless Tim plodding through a paranormal scenario that is all setup, no delivery. A long novel whose plot might just about have sustained a short story.
The Land Before Avocado: Journeys in a Lost Australia
by Richard Glover (ABC Books, 2018); audiobook read by the author (Bolinda, 2018)
Part personal recollection, part assiduous research, Glover delivers a time capsule of Australian social history for the years 1975-1985. Though the material itself is fascinating, and tragicomic in a ‘truth as satire’ way, the delivery suffers whenever Glover tries to be funny.