Time for another 250 Lego review. Not every one is a winner. Or a loser. Some are just… there.
Why do we, as adults rapidly giving in to the destructive inevitability of entropy — gazing towards the abyss as it opens itself, magic mirror-style, to show us the grave, the worms, and our impending return to the decayed star-spew from which we sprang — watching helplessly as all colour leaches from the world leaving us adrift in a slowly dissolving snow globe filled with tasteless ash — hang on to our childhood toys with Chuck Heston cold-dead-hands fervour?
Nostalgia, surely. Our toys are our innocence in pocket-sized convenient form. It is not just the bits of plastic themselves, but the stories around their acquisition, their completion, their ownership, that entrance us. Let’s be honest, even these supposed Lego set reviews aren’t actually reviews, so much as they’re a chance for me to air some happy memories, crack a few gags, and let you share my toy box in a spirit of childlike bonhomie.
Bit disappointing that I have absolutely no memory of getting this set whatsoever, then, innit?
Best as I can figure it, Lego comes up with a seemingly never-ending range of little special items, polybags, one-offs, and giveaways through a seemingly never-ending resource of outlets: newspapers, specialty shops, holiday destinations, tourist traps, conventions, and the like. (We’ll get to my Balinese sheep and Singaporean whatever-The-Hell-That’s-Supposed-To-Be later).; all designed to feed a never-ending perception that what Lego fans desire isn’t so much quality as never-ending variety.
And this is one of those never-ending variety demand satisfying sets: a small Santa figurine in a style known as ‘blockheads’, whereby vaguely familiar figures are re-imagined as unsuccessful auditioners for a Dire Straits video. And somewhere along the line, it found its way into my collection. Possibly by osmosis. Or it was a changeling child that looked like a cool set in the shop but shifted back into its natural form while I was sleeping. It’s hard to tell.
(Sings) One of these things is quite like the other, one of these things things is just the same….
It’s 60-odd pieces, it looks like Santa has been killed and skinned, and Steve from Minecraft is wearing his skin like some sort of child-abducting Ed Gein. It takes about 90 seconds to put together. It’s definitely made out of Lego pieces. It’s neither bad, nor good. Nothing about it sticks out in either way: not the part selection, not the colours, not the build techniques. It simply is. It’s the absolute quintessence of average. Honestly, it’s taken longer to write this review than it took to think about, make, and assess the set itself.
Stare into Santa’s dead, cold, eyes…
I wish I could say more. Sorry.
Tell you what, that Exosuit was bloody good though, wasn’t it?
So. That was a thing. What’s for tea?
The League Table of Awesomeness