Anything good on telly?

Not that I’m suggesting that this week after Christmas is all about lying around watching TV all day (ahem), but I thought I’d follow up on Karen’s instructions to watch out for Titanic-related trailers on your gogglebox on Christmas Day…

(By the way, in case you missed it, the trailer for the new Titanic series is here.  Whaddaya think – looks a bit cheesy…?! But maybe in a good way?)

So I thought you’d also like some updates on Game of Thrones, the fabulous big fantasy series that is now becoming the mainstay of the Titanic Quarter’s Paint Hall studios.  (Which, handily enough, allows for star-struck encounters between your humble Chaplain and TV royalty – I have Arya’s autograph!)

This Behind-The-Scenes report on the filming of Series Two popped up online a few days ago – and even if you’re not interested in the programme, have a look at this to see just about every member of the cast and crew wax lyrical about Northern Ireland and their fantastic experiences of shooting in Belfast:

Exciting eh – we’re being talked up by the people making (pretty much) the most critically-acclaimed show in the planet right now!

And if that video has whetted your appetite for Game Of Thrones itself, check out this trailer for Series Two.  All filmed here, y’know!

And staying with a vaguely media-related theme, if any of you (hi Mum!) are avidly following my adventures as your Thought For The Day on Wednesday mornings on Radio Ulster, you get a lie-in tomorrow – I’m not on until about 8:45! Such luxury…

The Dock Round Robin…

Another early start in Dock-World yesterday – as you were treated to my ‘thought’ again this week on Radio Ulster (it’s quite stressful having at least one thought per week!)  (For the next few days you can find it 1:24:30 into Good Morning Ulster on iPlayer here.)

The topic this week was the wonderful Christmas tradition of the Round Robin – those info-packed little update letters that sometimes accompany your Christmas cards (and to everyone who has sent me one this year, I love them.   I really do.  Yours is the exception that proves the rule.)

Simon Hoggart has collected together a brilliant book-full of especially excruciating Round Robins.  Sometimes the problem is too much detail – one letter gives a month-by-month account of the year, with gems like “February – a peaceful month punctuated by dental check-ups”.  Some people write Round Robins from their cats, or give surreal insights into their pets’ lives – like the dog being treated by a healer for barking at passing cars.  And all the spectacular, high-achieving children; one proud mum recounted how she had asked the teacher if there was any room for improvement in her daughter’s performance, only to be told: “No, you’ve given me a little diamond, and all I have to do is polish it”.

Sometimes all the stories of swimming certificates, trombone lessons and trophy-laden mantlepieces get too much.  One of the most fascinating things about Simon Hoggart’s book is the outpouring of pent-up anger and frustration from the people who send in their letters for publication. What’s behind such a strong reaction?  The general agreement seems to be that the world of the Round Robin is too perfect, a world for those who are living the dream, succeeding, achieving, excelling.  And there are sad stories in the book, too, of Round Robin senders whose Christmas letters stop when their lives are affected by tragedy or failure.

Which is upside-down in a way – the twist at the core of Christmas is that God is with us even when – especially when – we are not remotely glamorous or successful.  Mary and Joseph were not exactly living the dream.  Imagine Joseph’s Round Robin: “This year I took my pregnant fiancee on a tortuous journey to an overcrowded town, where we were alone and homeless…”.  At Christmas God chose to enter a world, to dwell with people, who hadn’t succeeded, achieved, excelled.  “Immanuel” means “God with us” – with us as we really are – not as we sometimes pretend or wish to be.  This Christmas, as at that first Christmas, God is with his imperfect people.

Best present ever…?

Stuck for a last-minute Christmas pressie?  I was in the city centre yesterday and had one of those days where you can’t move a few feet without bumping into an old friend and stopping for a bit of a yarn.  But I felt a bit guilty – everyone I was chatting to had the hunted, manic look of someone who still has to find and buy a lot of Christmas presents before the end of the week – whereas I am in the happy position of having all the shopping done (I think….) (edit: Susan “suggests” adding: because my wife got it all sorted out weeks ago…)

The reason for my smugness?  I reckon everyone in Northern Ireland has access to the perfect pressie this year, just at the click of a mouse: head to the Titanic Belfast website and buy your loved ones a ticket for the opening day of our biggest, brightest new visitor attraction.  A no-brainer, no?!

And just to whet your appetite, poking around on the site I found some really superb videos – like this construction timelapse:

Or this beautifully-made full-length trailer for the whole project:

And just in case you haven’t seen it (it’s been a while since I posted it here on The Dock blog), this brilliant fly-through of the new centre – it looks fantastic:

A Tale of Two Papers

Earlier in the week I was was waxing lyrical (all right, ranting) about the onslaught of negative press and gloomy defeatism being lobbed at the TQ and Titanic Belfast – and lo and behold, the tide is turning!  Last night, a double-page spread in the Belfast Telegraph, complete with front-page headline, at last beating the drum of optimism and hope.

Best fact of the article: tickets were selling at the rate of one every 80 seconds on the first day (with 33,000 now sold already).  Best quote of the article: someone booking from Maine, USA wrote “The best gift ever!  Hoping to go to Belfast when we go to Killarney in March!!  Cannot believe that I will get to see where she was made!!!”

That one joyfully-exclamation-mark-filled quote gives me hope that it will work.  Susan and I were in Killarney last summer – it’s bunged, absolutely bursting with tourists, in a way we’ve never really experienced here in Belfast.  Obviously there’s never been anything which fired the imagination of people visiting places like Killarney to make the journey North – but now there is.  Killarney to Belfast probably seems like a quick hop next door to someone from Maine.  Get ready, Belfast, this is really happening…

Second bit of newspaper-related news: you might remember the wonderful Eleanor, who told me the story of her father and his role in creating Titanic’s fireplaces and woodwork.  Well, on my recent return to Larne to thank Eleanor for her story and show her the video, we were snapped for international stardom in the Larne Times.  (I was a minister in Larne for 3 years – it was my very first post – and we used to have a competition between all the ministers in the town to see who could appear in the Larne Times most often.  I have to tell you that I won, by an embarrassing margin.  And even now, they can’t get enough of me…!)

And I love their optimism about the international reach of The Dock website:

Finally, huge thanks to all those who made for a lovely, Christmassy, welcoming, chatty, festive, funny, good-news-filled Christmas Bash last night at the Arc Apartments.. I had a blast!