Poplifer is not a fan of most Olympic opening ceremonies. Think of the trashiest tourist shop at an airport, give it a fascist twist and stadium scale, and away you go – fireworks, flags and kids in militarised lines, a celebration of SFX, spectacle and little else. Well, Danny Boyle’s only gone and blown the bloody doors off….

Starman
If you didn’t quite that last reference (The Italain Job, Michael Caine), that’s because you probably had to be British or have lived in Britain to have done so. Much like last night’s opening ceremony to the London 2012 Olympic Games. This is not a criticism. Danny Boyle’s splendidly idiosyncratic, parochial opening ceremony was littered with references which required footnotes, political points which didn’t and a joy and pride which was engrossing. Even for the most hardened cynic (I’m looking at you, Neil), it proved irresistible. It was bloody marvellous.
There will be plenty of gushing, plenty of talk of a redefined national identity and this is welcome. So are the counter-arguments, that it’s all-consuming Britishness will have confused or alienated the alleged 4 billion non-British viewers. Such meaty topics belong to other writers, other blogs. Below is Poplifer’s brief explanatory guide to perhaps the best, and certainly the most expensive, in-joke ever told, designed for puzzled foreignors, Brits wanting to remember it in all its odd glory and Brits who can’t actually remember it at all through the hungover fog .
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