Even the ridiculous product placement isn’t the most cynical thing about this exercise in trading in Cosy British Christmascore. It’s a nauseatingly schmaltzy and nonsensical

Trevor Bingley is not Mr Bean, but the two have a few things in common. For a start, they are both self-destructively single-minded when it comes to overcoming trivial annoyances. In Netflix’s 2022 series Man vs Bee , Bingley ended up building a fake explosive-laced hive to destroy the insect who refused to vacate the swish home he was house-sitting; for Bean, life consists almost exclusively of finding absurd solutions to minor problems. Both are pitiable figures: Bean because he’s a walking disaster zone; Bingley because he’s lonely and broke, having lost numerous jobs due to general ineptitude. Last but not least, they are both embodied by Rowan Atkinson, who bestows the pair with his distinctive brand of sprightly ungainliness.

There are major differences, however. Bingley is a human who can talk, is aware of social niceties and has a backstory, which mainly features a teenage daughter he dotes on and gratingly refers to as “Sweetpea”. Bean, on the other hand, was essentially beamed in from space: some episodes of the original 1990s series open with him dropping from the sky bathed in an alien light source.

Even the ridiculous product placement isn’t the most cynical thing about this exercise in trading in Cosy British Christmascore. It’s a nauseatingly schmaltzy and nonsensical

Trevor Bingley is not Mr Bean, but the two have a few things in common. For a start, they are both self-destructively single-minded when it comes to overcoming trivial annoyances. In Netflix’s 2022 series Man vs Bee , Bingley ended up building a fake explosive-laced hive to destroy the insect who refused to vacate the swish home he was house-sitting; for Bean, life consists almost exclusively of finding absurd solutions to minor problems. Both are pitiable figures: Bean because he’s a walking disaster zone; Bingley because he’s lonely and broke, having lost numerous jobs due to general ineptitude. Last but not least, they are both embodied by Rowan Atkinson, who bestows the pair with his distinctive brand of sprightly ungainliness.

There are major differences, however. Bingley is a human who can talk, is aware of social niceties and has a backstory, which mainly features a teenage daughter he dotes on and gratingly refers to as “Sweetpea”. Bean, on the other hand, was essentially beamed in from space: some episodes of the original 1990s series open with him dropping from the sky bathed in an alien light source.

Even the ridiculous product placement isn’t the most cynical thing about this exercise in trading in Cosy British Christmascore. It’s a nauseatingly schmaltzy and nonsensical

Trevor Bingley is not Mr Bean, but the two have a few things in common. For a start, they are both self-destructively single-minded when it comes to overcoming trivial annoyances. In Netflix’s 2022 series Man vs Bee , Bingley ended up building a fake explosive-laced hive to destroy the insect who refused to vacate the swish home he was house-sitting; for Bean, life consists almost exclusively of finding absurd solutions to minor problems. Both are pitiable figures: Bean because he’s a walking disaster zone; Bingley because he’s lonely and broke, having lost numerous jobs due to general ineptitude. Last but not least, they are both embodied by Rowan Atkinson, who bestows the pair with his distinctive brand of sprightly ungainliness.

There are major differences, however. Bingley is a human who can talk, is aware of social niceties and has a backstory, which mainly features a teenage daughter he dotes on and gratingly refers to as “Sweetpea”. Bean, on the other hand, was essentially beamed in from space: some episodes of the original 1990s series open with him dropping from the sky bathed in an alien light source.

In her complex works, the Polish artist manipulates images of male nudes to comment on masculine power-plays and female emancipation

To give people a sense of her evolution, the lauded Polish artist Zofia Kulik likes to compare two of her creative milestones. The first was the centrepiece of her earliest exhibition as a solo artist in 1989 , where she debuted her groundbreaking, technically complex photomontages in which dizzying patterns are woven from repeating imagery. It’s a self-portrait where she peers uncertainly from a mandala made from tiny posturing male nudes, “pressed in by men” as Kulik puts it.

The second was made nearly a decade later in 1997, the year that that artistic leap into the unknown was given the ultimate public affirmation and she represented her country at the Venice Biennale. This time she’s an assertive queen, posed like Elizabeth I, resplendent with a ruff, wide-skirted and sleeved gown, embellished with decorative patterns of those naked men.

At the scene of one of his Europa League final triumphs, the manager is setting targets to achieve success with Villa

For Unai Emery, there was a welcome air of familiarity upon arrival at Basel’s St Jakob-Park on Wednesday. It was a return to Switzerland and the scene of his third Europa League triumph with Sevilla in 2016, when his side overcame Jürgen Klopp’s Liverpool, 3-1.

“This competition is so, so special for me,” the Aston Villa manager said. “We won here, it was a fantastic day and is a fantastic memory. To remember it is very good.” And then came a big but. Two, in fact. “I want to build a new moment, a new era, a new way with Aston Villa. I can remind myself of the moment I had here.”

I’ve spent too many wet and windy Friday afternoons preparing set-piece routines and it’s not a pretty sight

By Nutmeg magazine

Set pieces, eh, those brief but frequent interludes that sporadically pockmark our weekly sacrament, filling our heads with daydreams and fantasies of intricately worked ruses or 30-yard thunderbolts. Quite often the unintentional birth child of an ugly hacked clearance or theatrical swan dive, they ordinarily result in nothing more than a rudimentary blemish upon hallowed turf canvas but, sometimes, just sometimes, we are treated to strokes of genius that become as entrenched in the memory as is the Lord’s Prayer.

When asked to provide a dose of professional insight detailing the fastidious workings that go into each and every single stoppage in play, it got me to thinking: have we lost an element of ingenuity in the pursuit of perfection? My dad has always warned me against the pitfalls of starting a game slowly so, with that pearl of wisdom well heeded, I’ll get things under way with a bang, a no-nonsense punt into touch from the very first whistle, the sort that’s recently stormed back into fashion within the upper echelons of the English game, as world-renowned coaches such as Pep Guardiola and Mikel Arteta do their damndest at reinventing a century-old wheel.

In her complex works, the Polish artist manipulates images of male nudes to comment on masculine power-plays and female emancipation

To give people a sense of her evolution, the lauded Polish artist Zofia Kulik likes to compare two of her creative milestones. The first was the centrepiece of her earliest exhibition as a solo artist in 1989 , where she debuted her groundbreaking, technically complex photomontages in which dizzying patterns are woven from repeating imagery. It’s a self-portrait where she peers uncertainly from a mandala made from tiny posturing male nudes, “pressed in by men” as Kulik puts it.

The second was made nearly a decade later in 1997, the year that that artistic leap into the unknown was given the ultimate public affirmation and she represented her country at the Venice Biennale. This time she’s an assertive queen, posed like Elizabeth I, resplendent with a ruff, wide-skirted and sleeved gown, embellished with decorative patterns of those naked men.

I’ve spent too many wet and windy Friday afternoons preparing set-piece routines and it’s not a pretty sight

By Nutmeg magazine

Set pieces, eh, those brief but frequent interludes that sporadically pockmark our weekly sacrament, filling our heads with daydreams and fantasies of intricately worked ruses or 30-yard thunderbolts. Quite often the unintentional birth child of an ugly hacked clearance or theatrical swan dive, they ordinarily result in nothing more than a rudimentary blemish upon hallowed turf canvas but, sometimes, just sometimes, we are treated to strokes of genius that become as entrenched in the memory as is the Lord’s Prayer.

When asked to provide a dose of professional insight detailing the fastidious workings that go into each and every single stoppage in play, it got me to thinking: have we lost an element of ingenuity in the pursuit of perfection? My dad has always warned me against the pitfalls of starting a game slowly so, with that pearl of wisdom well heeded, I’ll get things under way with a bang, a no-nonsense punt into touch from the very first whistle, the sort that’s recently stormed back into fashion within the upper echelons of the English game, as world-renowned coaches such as Pep Guardiola and Mikel Arteta do their damndest at reinventing a century-old wheel.

At the scene of one of his Europa League final triumphs, the manager is setting targets to achieve success with Villa

For Unai Emery, there was a welcome air of familiarity upon arrival at Basel’s St Jakob-Park on Wednesday. It was a return to Switzerland and the scene of his third Europa League triumph with Sevilla in 2016, when his side overcame Jürgen Klopp’s Liverpool, 3-1.

“This competition is so, so special for me,” the Aston Villa manager said. “We won here, it was a fantastic day and is a fantastic memory. To remember it is very good.” And then came a big but. Two, in fact. “I want to build a new moment, a new era, a new way with Aston Villa. I can remind myself of the moment I had here.”