1994: directed by Pedro Romhanyi

 82 Somewhere, London, is a brick building and has a bright red door. Phil Daniels of Quadrophenia fame (and not much else, to us Yanks) has gotten forty and looks every hour of it. He's wearing a nasty cheap blue suit. He walks up to 82 with ballsy authority. Behind him, his sidekick Damon, holding a set of storm windows "fitted free", just call 0800 22 01 01 for a cosy home and instant dork. Dames has his face pressed against the glass in an ingratiating, desperate smile, leaving a trail of fog where his mouth is all crooked against it. Vanity? Not a bit of it! Phil Daniels just has to smack Damon. Because you do. You go, Phil Daniels of Quadrophenia fame!

Phil Daniels knocks on the door of 82. Hungover Graham answers. Phil Daniels, with a great smarmy smile, brandishes his card - "Amazing Glazing - Phil & Damon - (something something) completely transparent". Oh yeah. He indicates Damon The Moron behind him. Wisely, Hungover Graham shakes his head in refusal of this bullshit and goes back inside. We hear breaking glass. Phil Daniels yells "Oi!" and we're off!

Damn Kids on Phil Daniels' totally sweet gold Ford Granada. Phil Daniels runs over, ready to put foot to ass, but the Damn Kids run off. Phil Daniels and Damon get into the car. Phil Daniels drives like a Type A maniac, pulling the windshield wiper lever with his pinky. The Author doesn't know why this is significant, but it is. Phil Daniels narrates the song while driving. Damon does the answer calls out the window, staring at a passerby on the street dressed for arctic conditions and walking four matched springer spaniels at Parklife Walk West or East. Phil Daniels gets caught in traffic - the bus behind them is destined for Parklife. It's right behind you, mate.

The Granada breaks down by the river. Damon attempts to fix it, but he's too busy yowling "parklife" from underneath the car. Driving again, they pass Comedy Fat Old Graham With Mustache, who scowls at the suggestion that he should cut down on his porklife mate, and all but gives them the finger.

Back at 82 Somewhere London, Graham, young and beautiful again, slouches in a blue stripy T and drab slacks, dreading the part where Damon starts jogging up and down like a goober and singing. Nothing can stop this, Graham; you just have to accept it. To ease his suffering, Graham graffitis the camera with "GUTLOP" in white. Er? Damon bounces behind the Non-Damon Blur - Dave still lickably carroty, Graham in yellow-tinted glasses, and Alex, distracted by his own loveliness, in red. NDB ride a bicycle built for three, yet are unable to escape. The graffitti complete, it reads "GUTLOP ROOL". Super er?! Graham doesn't seem to get it either. Blur lark about in front of 82 Somewhere. Dammit, they're so wholesome. It's like they're demanding Mogwai to come and kick their asses. Damon toys with Graham's glasses while Graham scowls, Alex pours on the thick, rich adorability, and Dave frowns slightly, wondering how many lines of code he could have written by now if he wasn't in this band.

"Know wot I mean?"

Back in the car. Time for sarnies out of a Tupperware box. PSYCH! Phil Daniels of Quadrophenia fame snatches the sarnie out of Damon's mouth, and begins to gesticulate with it while continuing his narrative rant. Undaunted, Dames gets another - he's apparently used to this kind of hostile lunchtime situation - and bites into it. Half of it hangs out of his mouth. Classy, Damon. They drive past Parklife, NW6. So that's where it is! Phil Daniels mimes the "cuppa tea", but he's already thought about leavin' the 'ouse. Comedy Tramp Fanatic Graham, in long tweed coat and cap, wears a sandwich board with "Modern Life Is Rubbish" on one side and "End of A Century" on the other. He spins around. By the river, Damon pours tea from a groovy Thermos and hands the cup to Phil Daniels, of Quadrophenia fame. Back in the car, Damon throws the sarnies out the window. Maybe they had meat in them.

At 82 Somewhere, London, the ICE CREAM TRUCK has arrived! YAY! Damon brandishes an ice cream cone, and very yummy it looks too. To press the point of its yumminess, Damon head-butts the camera. Alex goes down on a different ice cream cone, awakening feelings in male Blur fans that they didn't know they had. In the grip of a sugar frenzy, Damon gives us jazz hands, Alex pushes Graham around in a shopping cart, Damon kicks a football (because he is so sportif).

The Ford Granada goes all over London. Phil Daniels almost runs down the band on an Abbey Road-style zebra crossing, but remembers his paycheck and thinks better of it at the last minute. Thanks, Phil Daniels, they haven't made "I'm Just A Killer For Your Love" yet. "It's got nothing to do with you garbled random German phonemes, you know," Phil Daniels harangues some greasy fellow in a red convertible in the next lane. Greasy Guy sucks in his cheeks and bristles his mustache. The Author has recently had it confirmed by her adoring public that the Greasy chap is Alex in disguise. "And it's not about you joggers," he continues, glaring at Alex on the street, who is getting physical, dressed almost exactly like Olivia Newton-John after a major head trauma and mock-jogging in the silliest possible way. He skates across the street in stop-motion and then back again. EEK!

Back at 82 Somewhere, there's fun with rainbow umbrellas. Then - ulp! - there's ALEX IN DRAG and Dave in cowboy getup and mustache. The splendiferous, ultra-fierce tranny Alex simpers lovingly at Dave, who gives her a solid look, then gives us the A-OK sign. WORD! Phil Daniels, who you may have heard of as being famous for his starring role in the film Quadrophenia, actually manages to get happy with Damon and the two of them wave their hands back and forth in the car. Graham holds a black puppy with growlingly protective love. Alex, in boy clothes (awwww!) twirls his rainbow umbrella fetchingly. And he says Damon's gay! WhatEVER. Dave gets the milk from the front step of 82 Somewhere and slams the door.

Then, our collective Foucaultian desires are fulfilled, and Damon gets accidentally smacked in the nose. HAW HAW HAW HAW! Blooper reel! Sheer genius! We all come away with a sense of enormous well-being, safe in the knowledge that there will always be a bit of our hearts devoted to the sight of Damon wincing in pain.

CUTE FACTOR: extremely high. Lots of acting, too. And once upon a time, Phil Daniels was a babe.
VIDEO QUALITY: The Monkees TV series, only much better. Beautiful and hilarious.
FUCKED UP FACTOR: beers.
OVERALL GRADE: A+

(links to phil daniels pics from www.quadrophenia.net - please don't be mad.)