"I don't think he took your point, quite."
"I think he quite missed it."
Only the third episode, and it's already very clear indeed that a single viewing is hardly adequate to do justice the density of the script, visuals and performances. I shall plead that there's some value in a first impression, and do my best.
On the surface this episode is about a few prominent plotlines- the opening of the rival saloon over the road and Al's preparation for war; the sort-of agreement between Swearengen and the Seth and Sol duo; and of course the tragic end of swanky New York dude Brom.who seeks "satisfaction" for being swindled by Al and ends up lured to his death in spite of many, many warnings, not only from Charlie but his junkie wife Alma. This is nicely paralleled with Al's decision to spare the slightly treasonous E.B.- after all, he has the poor hotel owner by the balls.
Elsewhere there's casual racism directed towards the "heathens", and equally casual bile (sexism and possible homophobia?) directed at Jane, whose disinclination to perform the rituals of femininity do not go unnoticed. But the most tragic character is the tactiurn Bill, whose reputation precedes him so that he's constantly being abused and challenged by wankers. No one ever treats him as a person, just as the legendary gunslinger he has become, and his life is shorn of any human interaction- no wonder he's drawn to the decent Seth, and that he spends his days drinking and gambling until the day he is inevitably shot by some twat. And yet beneath the gunslinger is a gentleman who will sleep in a corridor so a traumatised little girl can remain undisturbed.
At the core of this is a superb cast of actors- Ian McShane is a revelation; Lovejoy this ain't- but also, again, a peerless script. I'm loving this.
Sunday, 31 May 2020
A History of Violence (2005)
“In this family we do not solve our problems by hitting people.
David Cronenberg is known for a certain type of film. This is very different from that type. Yet it's a very different type of film- an action film that's based around nuanced character and acting, and rather intelligent and thoughtful among all the violence, anyone?
It's hard, indeed impossible to discuss this film without spoilers. But it's about more than the twist; it's about how we can all construct our identities, about interiority, about the hope of redemption, about the violence that lurks within us, about what may lie beneath respectable and upstanding lives, about the alien nature of other people and the impossibility of truly knowing them, even if you're married to them, in love and still have good (and fetishistic) sex. But then, of course, in a very deep sense Edie does know who Tom is now. The past is a foreign country.
There's enough graphic violence here to qualify this as an action film, yet it's clever enough to simultaneously appeal to the arty film crowd. Viggo Mortensen gives a towering and dualistic performance that is truly extraordinary, although credit is also very much due to Maria Bello and to William Hurt, who shows his extraordinary versatility in a part very different from usual.
This is an extraordinary film, and one of the finest I've seen for a good many months.
It's hard, indeed impossible to discuss this film without spoilers. But it's about more than the twist; it's about how we can all construct our identities, about interiority, about the hope of redemption, about the violence that lurks within us, about what may lie beneath respectable and upstanding lives, about the alien nature of other people and the impossibility of truly knowing them, even if you're married to them, in love and still have good (and fetishistic) sex. But then, of course, in a very deep sense Edie does know who Tom is now. The past is a foreign country.
There's enough graphic violence here to qualify this as an action film, yet it's clever enough to simultaneously appeal to the arty film crowd. Viggo Mortensen gives a towering and dualistic performance that is truly extraordinary, although credit is also very much due to Maria Bello and to William Hurt, who shows his extraordinary versatility in a part very different from usual.
This is an extraordinary film, and one of the finest I've seen for a good many months.
Saturday, 30 May 2020
This House (National Theatre Live, 2013)
"A Conservative Government eventually falls because they believe themselves entitled to power. And Labour Governments always fall because they don't."
The National Theatre are streaming one free recording of a play on YouTube, and for one week only, until Thursday I believe, the chosen play is James Graham's funny, tragic, human and wonderful tale of politics and desperation charting the Parliamentary struggles of the Labour Government between 1974 and 1979 and that fatal confidence vote.
It's an interesting experience to watch a stage play via a recording, and a reminder of the way the medium uses clever staging instead of boring realism- hence the dances as Commons votes and, most wonderfully, the use of a big blue cloth and David Bowie's "Rock and Roll Suicide" to evoke the moment where John Stonehouse (look him up) does his Reggie Perrin thing. In fact there's a superb use of contemporary rock throughout, much of it Bowie- particularly clever is the use of "Five Years" to evoke the various MPs who die during the 1974-79 Parliament.
We see few Government or Opposition ministes, at least no more than cameo's; this is the story of the two teams of whips, all of whom we come to know. It's a splendid ensemble performance, although I fear the two standout performances- Phil Daniels as Bob Mellish and Vincent Franklin as Michael Cocks- are on the Labour side. But there's plenty of politics- we have hints at the Tory shift to the right under Thatcher and the end of the Butskellite consensus; Labour's future in terms both of Militant sabotage and the slow replacement of all those working class men with young professionals, represented here by future Chief Whip Ann Taylor.
This is dramatic, funny, thoughtful; an examination of the game of politics, the stakes and the moral compromises involved, and of course the often enormous human cost. It's a wonderfu production of a wonderful play
It's an interesting experience to watch a stage play via a recording, and a reminder of the way the medium uses clever staging instead of boring realism- hence the dances as Commons votes and, most wonderfully, the use of a big blue cloth and David Bowie's "Rock and Roll Suicide" to evoke the moment where John Stonehouse (look him up) does his Reggie Perrin thing. In fact there's a superb use of contemporary rock throughout, much of it Bowie- particularly clever is the use of "Five Years" to evoke the various MPs who die during the 1974-79 Parliament.
We see few Government or Opposition ministes, at least no more than cameo's; this is the story of the two teams of whips, all of whom we come to know. It's a splendid ensemble performance, although I fear the two standout performances- Phil Daniels as Bob Mellish and Vincent Franklin as Michael Cocks- are on the Labour side. But there's plenty of politics- we have hints at the Tory shift to the right under Thatcher and the end of the Butskellite consensus; Labour's future in terms both of Militant sabotage and the slow replacement of all those working class men with young professionals, represented here by future Chief Whip Ann Taylor.
This is dramatic, funny, thoughtful; an examination of the game of politics, the stakes and the moral compromises involved, and of course the often enormous human cost. It's a wonderfu production of a wonderful play
Wednesday, 27 May 2020
Batman: The Wail of the Siren
"Batgirl, Batgirl Batgirl, Batgirl
Where do you come from? Where do you go?
What is your scene, baby? Yeah, we just gotta know
Batgirl, Batgirl Batgirl, Batgirl
Are you a chick who fell in from outer space?
Or are you real with a tender warm embrace?
Yeah, whose baby are you? Batgirl, whose baby are you? Batgirl..."
It's becoming increasingly clear that this season there's not so much money sloshing around (Siren's hideout is so very cheap!) and that the need to accommodate an extra character in Batgirl where there’s only a single episode lasting twenty-four minutes to play with has, we, not exactly improved the show. Nor is the show’s signature wit much in evidence: this could be a kids’ cartoon. It’s enjoyable enough but I’m hoping the third season has more in store than we’ve seen so far.
That said, though, this episode is an improvement, cartoonish though it is. A shockingly young Joan Collins is sexy and charismatic as the Siren. Barbara Gordon is still talking to her parrot as a neat little exposition device. And... yeah, that Batgirl song- the lyrics absolutely had to be the quote. It’s mad, it fully embraces both its silliness and its sixtiesness, and I love it. How could I not? We also get a line where Batman refuses a soft drink on the grounds it could be “too relaxing”, and the hilarious concept at the end of Siren singing an “antidote note” on the mesmerised Bruce.
Still, I'm a little alarmed at this point. This episode is fun, yes, but it’s a simple cartoon type show, and that's how the season seems to be going. Batman has seemingly moved from high camp to low camp. Surely this can’t continue?
Where do you come from? Where do you go?
What is your scene, baby? Yeah, we just gotta know
Batgirl, Batgirl Batgirl, Batgirl
Are you a chick who fell in from outer space?
Or are you real with a tender warm embrace?
Yeah, whose baby are you? Batgirl, whose baby are you? Batgirl..."
It's becoming increasingly clear that this season there's not so much money sloshing around (Siren's hideout is so very cheap!) and that the need to accommodate an extra character in Batgirl where there’s only a single episode lasting twenty-four minutes to play with has, we, not exactly improved the show. Nor is the show’s signature wit much in evidence: this could be a kids’ cartoon. It’s enjoyable enough but I’m hoping the third season has more in store than we’ve seen so far.
That said, though, this episode is an improvement, cartoonish though it is. A shockingly young Joan Collins is sexy and charismatic as the Siren. Barbara Gordon is still talking to her parrot as a neat little exposition device. And... yeah, that Batgirl song- the lyrics absolutely had to be the quote. It’s mad, it fully embraces both its silliness and its sixtiesness, and I love it. How could I not? We also get a line where Batman refuses a soft drink on the grounds it could be “too relaxing”, and the hilarious concept at the end of Siren singing an “antidote note” on the mesmerised Bruce.
Still, I'm a little alarmed at this point. This episode is fun, yes, but it’s a simple cartoon type show, and that's how the season seems to be going. Batman has seemingly moved from high camp to low camp. Surely this can’t continue?
Tuesday, 26 May 2020
Batman: Ring Around the Riddler
"Returned to tease, taunt and torment us again..."
This second episode, it has to be said, with its reentlessly studio-boubd scenes, is where the budget cuts really start to show. It's also becoming clear how difficult it is, especially with a third semi-lead, to tell a story in twenty-four minutes, much as I admire some of the economy of storytelling here- as we begin with Batgirl ringing the Commissioner (her father!), who rings Alfred, who in turn summons the Caped Crusaders, with the entire montage done in silence.
The story is a fairly low-stakes tale of the Riddler getting in on the act in the boxing tacket, getting prize-fighters to throw fights. That's it. Despite the sheer number of riddles, the character hardly gets seen at his most memorable- but all is forgiven, because the prodigal Frank Gorshin is back, after taking a whole season off for mysterious reasons. He is, of course, magnificent, and there will never be a better Riddler. But it's sad that Gorshin's (and the Riddler's) time on the show should end with such a whimper. This third season will contain a lot of sad "lasts".
The episode has some lovely touches- I love Barbara Gordon's relationship with her doting father, and how she has a parrot to talk to, cleverly allowing the character to talk to herself. It's also nice that we get such an extended preview of Joan Collins as the Siren. But ultimately, if it were not Frank Gorshin'slast appearance, this would be a forgotten episode.
This second episode, it has to be said, with its reentlessly studio-boubd scenes, is where the budget cuts really start to show. It's also becoming clear how difficult it is, especially with a third semi-lead, to tell a story in twenty-four minutes, much as I admire some of the economy of storytelling here- as we begin with Batgirl ringing the Commissioner (her father!), who rings Alfred, who in turn summons the Caped Crusaders, with the entire montage done in silence.
The story is a fairly low-stakes tale of the Riddler getting in on the act in the boxing tacket, getting prize-fighters to throw fights. That's it. Despite the sheer number of riddles, the character hardly gets seen at his most memorable- but all is forgiven, because the prodigal Frank Gorshin is back, after taking a whole season off for mysterious reasons. He is, of course, magnificent, and there will never be a better Riddler. But it's sad that Gorshin's (and the Riddler's) time on the show should end with such a whimper. This third season will contain a lot of sad "lasts".
The episode has some lovely touches- I love Barbara Gordon's relationship with her doting father, and how she has a parrot to talk to, cleverly allowing the character to talk to herself. It's also nice that we get such an extended preview of Joan Collins as the Siren. But ultimately, if it were not Frank Gorshin'slast appearance, this would be a forgotten episode.
Sunday, 24 May 2020
The Fantastic Four (1994)
“Look at you- the Fantastic Four!”
I've always wanted to see this unreleased little film, and tonight I got my wish. And what we have here is unquestionably a B movie, with an older Roger Corman producing, with no stars (other than Alex Hyde-White the only member of the cast I've heard of is young Mercedes McNab, Harmony in Buffy and Angel, who plays the young Sue Storm), no budget and some questionable acting. But actualy, well, I rather like this.
Yes, it's incredibly cheap. Yes, the script lacks sparkle. But the film's heart is n the right place. Doctor Doom's costume looks cheap (and his castle very Count Duckula!), but they're really trying to be faithful to the comics. We get cheap looking but faithful John Byrne era costumes. We get Alicia.
Even better, though, these are the characters we know and love- with Sue's embarrassed and cute crush on Reed and proper time given to Ben's angst at his predicament- with Alicia a big part of his healing. A comparson to the awful Captain America film of four years earlier shows what this film gets right- we recognise and care about these characters, even if the acting is somewhat functional.
Best of all, cheap though the film is, it makes a surprisingly decent stab at showing all of the heroes' powers in action, even if we have to wait a long time to see Johnny get a proper- and pretty damn cool- "flame on" moment.
So yes, this is a cheap B movie. Yes, the acting is functional. Yet it gets most of the big scripting decsions right and is a surprisingly entertaining movie with real heart.
Yes, it's incredibly cheap. Yes, the script lacks sparkle. But the film's heart is n the right place. Doctor Doom's costume looks cheap (and his castle very Count Duckula!), but they're really trying to be faithful to the comics. We get cheap looking but faithful John Byrne era costumes. We get Alicia.
Even better, though, these are the characters we know and love- with Sue's embarrassed and cute crush on Reed and proper time given to Ben's angst at his predicament- with Alicia a big part of his healing. A comparson to the awful Captain America film of four years earlier shows what this film gets right- we recognise and care about these characters, even if the acting is somewhat functional.
Best of all, cheap though the film is, it makes a surprisingly decent stab at showing all of the heroes' powers in action, even if we have to wait a long time to see Johnny get a proper- and pretty damn cool- "flame on" moment.
So yes, this is a cheap B movie. Yes, the acting is functional. Yet it gets most of the big scripting decsions right and is a surprisingly entertaining movie with real heart.
Friday, 22 May 2020
Godzilla: All Monsters Attack (1969)
"Everyone is so hard a work that they forget about the kids, huh?"
This is, appropriately enough, the 666th film I've blogged over the last nine years, and it's winderful. For completely unexpected reasons, it's the best Godzilla film I've seen so far.
Opinion, it seems, is divided between those who hate the film for its lack of focus on the monsters and extensive and for its obvious use of stock footage of the monsters on the one hand, and those who point out that this is quite clearly a sodding children's film, and a magical one at that, on the other.
This is a film about a litte boy, Ichiro, whose parents work long hours and leave him alone for hours after school (unthinkable in this day and age), and who is both obsessed by Kaiju and plagued by a bully whom he likens to Gabara. In his dreams, nicely shown as such by the type of effects that we Doctor Who fans call CSO, he flies to Monster Island and sees all the monsters, befriending little Minya. For those who comlain about Minya talking, these are dream sequences and this is a sodding kids' film, pretty much Mary Poppins with Kaiju.
I think it's a lovely, elegantly plotted and ingenious film, albeit cheap, about a little boy encouraged to fight bullies- and crooks- by a parable on Monster Island. Who'd be a kid in 60s Japan?
Opinion, it seems, is divided between those who hate the film for its lack of focus on the monsters and extensive and for its obvious use of stock footage of the monsters on the one hand, and those who point out that this is quite clearly a sodding children's film, and a magical one at that, on the other.
This is a film about a litte boy, Ichiro, whose parents work long hours and leave him alone for hours after school (unthinkable in this day and age), and who is both obsessed by Kaiju and plagued by a bully whom he likens to Gabara. In his dreams, nicely shown as such by the type of effects that we Doctor Who fans call CSO, he flies to Monster Island and sees all the monsters, befriending little Minya. For those who comlain about Minya talking, these are dream sequences and this is a sodding kids' film, pretty much Mary Poppins with Kaiju.
I think it's a lovely, elegantly plotted and ingenious film, albeit cheap, about a little boy encouraged to fight bullies- and crooks- by a parable on Monster Island. Who'd be a kid in 60s Japan?
Wednesday, 20 May 2020
Deadwood: Season 1, Episode 2- Deep Water
“No loose ends now...”
I’m really getting into this already. I already feel I know these characters and am invested in the storylines.
Much of this episode revolves around the complex consequences of Seth and Wild Bill's shooting las episodes of the man who took part in the killing of the "squareheads"- Seth is now tied to Bill whether he likes it or not, and clashes very much with an untrusting Al. Already I'm seeing why Ian McShane is so praised for this performance.
The ripples widen and widen, as Calamity Jane (a facinating, eccentric and damaged character) ends up stealing the little "squarehead" girl (interesting to see that casual racism, the first thing we see in the episode directed towards a Chinaman, was once applied to the many German and Scandinavian settlers), and that there's a power struggle for her between the principlied Doc and wily Al.
We also find Brom beginning to realise he may have paid £20k for a pup, while his wife Ada turns out to be a junkie. Also interesting is Wild Bill himself, who perhaps gets on with Seth (the hero so far) because Seth just treats him as a normal man- Bill comes across as a man sick and tired of the falseness of fame.
It's only the second episode, and already I feel I know these characters and care about them. This is looking so far like another HBO triumph.
I’m really getting into this already. I already feel I know these characters and am invested in the storylines.
Much of this episode revolves around the complex consequences of Seth and Wild Bill's shooting las episodes of the man who took part in the killing of the "squareheads"- Seth is now tied to Bill whether he likes it or not, and clashes very much with an untrusting Al. Already I'm seeing why Ian McShane is so praised for this performance.
The ripples widen and widen, as Calamity Jane (a facinating, eccentric and damaged character) ends up stealing the little "squarehead" girl (interesting to see that casual racism, the first thing we see in the episode directed towards a Chinaman, was once applied to the many German and Scandinavian settlers), and that there's a power struggle for her between the principlied Doc and wily Al.
We also find Brom beginning to realise he may have paid £20k for a pup, while his wife Ada turns out to be a junkie. Also interesting is Wild Bill himself, who perhaps gets on with Seth (the hero so far) because Seth just treats him as a normal man- Bill comes across as a man sick and tired of the falseness of fame.
It's only the second episode, and already I feel I know these characters and care about them. This is looking so far like another HBO triumph.
Tuesday, 19 May 2020
Batman: Enter Batgirl, Exit Penguin
"Just never been proposed to at umbrellapoint before..."
And so begins the short final season for the Autumn of 1967, where a few changes have had to take place . For a start, epsodes are now being broadcast weekly. We no longer necessarily have two-parters with cliffhangers, and twenty-five minutes is not a long time to tell a story- something very much demonstrated by this epidode. Madge Blake is sadly not well, and won't be appearing much. Finally, of course, we have innocent librarian Barbara Gordon, whose spacious apartment contains a secret room and a secret; she's Batgirl, copyright-disregarding crimefighter.
This episode, of course, exists to introduce her and has an awful lot to do in a short time, which it manages to do abour as well as it possibly could. So the plot about Penguin marrying Barbara to become the apparently untouchable son-in-law of the Commissioner may be silly, but it has to be, much like the way the Dynamic Duo, those great detectives, can't work out who Batgirl is. It's nice that Alfred gets to know and keep Barbara's secret, but I had to raise an eyebrow at Penguin failing to recognise him.
This is entertaining enough, but has far too much to do for it to stand out as particularly good. The new format seems promising, though. Especially as the cliffhanger seems to have been replaced by a sneak preview of the next episode's villain- and this time it's the Riddler- and Frank Gorshin, the Gods be praised, is back...
And so begins the short final season for the Autumn of 1967, where a few changes have had to take place . For a start, epsodes are now being broadcast weekly. We no longer necessarily have two-parters with cliffhangers, and twenty-five minutes is not a long time to tell a story- something very much demonstrated by this epidode. Madge Blake is sadly not well, and won't be appearing much. Finally, of course, we have innocent librarian Barbara Gordon, whose spacious apartment contains a secret room and a secret; she's Batgirl, copyright-disregarding crimefighter.
This episode, of course, exists to introduce her and has an awful lot to do in a short time, which it manages to do abour as well as it possibly could. So the plot about Penguin marrying Barbara to become the apparently untouchable son-in-law of the Commissioner may be silly, but it has to be, much like the way the Dynamic Duo, those great detectives, can't work out who Batgirl is. It's nice that Alfred gets to know and keep Barbara's secret, but I had to raise an eyebrow at Penguin failing to recognise him.
This is entertaining enough, but has far too much to do for it to stand out as particularly good. The new format seems promising, though. Especially as the cliffhanger seems to have been replaced by a sneak preview of the next episode's villain- and this time it's the Riddler- and Frank Gorshin, the Gods be praised, is back...
The Mandalorian: Chapter 8- Redemption
“He just killed an officer for interrupting him. So this may take a while.“
Wow. Now that’s what I call a bit good. This finale is a thing of beauty and, seeing now how it all fits together, it elevates the previous seven episodes into a cohesive whole. I can see why The Mandalorian has received such acclaim, and I concur wholeheartedly.
So yes, we begin with Mando, Cara and Greef completely surrounded by Imperial troops under new big bad Moff Gideon, and Imperial scout troops have Baby Yoda. It’s a bleak cliffhanger. But I love how things immediately turned into an unexpected direction. So it’s a comedy scene between two scout troopers that tells us what Gideon is like, and his habit of executing subordinates for petty reasons. But his speech to our protagonists is hugely revealing- our Mando has a name (Din Djarin) and is not a native of Mandalor but a foundling, and at last we see the full flashback of how he came to be adopted by his new culture. This adds an awful lot of depth and hints at the ending.
All this dialogue is fun (what is this “Mind Flayer”?), but even more fun is Taika Waititi who, when he’s not brilliantly directing this episode, is perfect as the reprogrammed IG-11, the most badass nanny in the world (eat that, Poppins), who rescues the kid and then the gang, all while being staggeringly cool. It’s neat that a droid that originally tried to kill the Child should be its saviour, and indeed die in a way justifying the episode title- but let’s not get too far ahead.
Mando appears to be the one facing a heroic death, but no- he's saved by IG-11. And, as said awesome droid is not technically alive, we get to see his face, in the same episode we learn his name. And we find the other Mandalorians to have been devastated, the only apparent survivor being the armourer. She shows hersef to be badass when the Imps arrive later, of course, but for now she makes clear what we've probably realised- Baby Yoda is a foundling and, unless Mando can return it to its home (and there was an ancient war with the Jedi?), it's his son, to be raised in the tradition. This is the Way. Cool.
That escape through a river of lava with a ferry droid has no business not being a reference to the River Styx and, sure enough, when they emerge IG-88 blows his way to Hades, along with a load of Imps, to save the others. He is, in spire of everything, a hero. And Mando, in spite of everything, truly mourns this droid. This is cleverly crafted drama.
We end with Greef hiring Cara but, for now, Mando has some Jedi family history to research. I bloody can't wait. I can't praise this series enough.
Wow. Now that’s what I call a bit good. This finale is a thing of beauty and, seeing now how it all fits together, it elevates the previous seven episodes into a cohesive whole. I can see why The Mandalorian has received such acclaim, and I concur wholeheartedly.
So yes, we begin with Mando, Cara and Greef completely surrounded by Imperial troops under new big bad Moff Gideon, and Imperial scout troops have Baby Yoda. It’s a bleak cliffhanger. But I love how things immediately turned into an unexpected direction. So it’s a comedy scene between two scout troopers that tells us what Gideon is like, and his habit of executing subordinates for petty reasons. But his speech to our protagonists is hugely revealing- our Mando has a name (Din Djarin) and is not a native of Mandalor but a foundling, and at last we see the full flashback of how he came to be adopted by his new culture. This adds an awful lot of depth and hints at the ending.
All this dialogue is fun (what is this “Mind Flayer”?), but even more fun is Taika Waititi who, when he’s not brilliantly directing this episode, is perfect as the reprogrammed IG-11, the most badass nanny in the world (eat that, Poppins), who rescues the kid and then the gang, all while being staggeringly cool. It’s neat that a droid that originally tried to kill the Child should be its saviour, and indeed die in a way justifying the episode title- but let’s not get too far ahead.
Mando appears to be the one facing a heroic death, but no- he's saved by IG-11. And, as said awesome droid is not technically alive, we get to see his face, in the same episode we learn his name. And we find the other Mandalorians to have been devastated, the only apparent survivor being the armourer. She shows hersef to be badass when the Imps arrive later, of course, but for now she makes clear what we've probably realised- Baby Yoda is a foundling and, unless Mando can return it to its home (and there was an ancient war with the Jedi?), it's his son, to be raised in the tradition. This is the Way. Cool.
That escape through a river of lava with a ferry droid has no business not being a reference to the River Styx and, sure enough, when they emerge IG-88 blows his way to Hades, along with a load of Imps, to save the others. He is, in spire of everything, a hero. And Mando, in spite of everything, truly mourns this droid. This is cleverly crafted drama.
We end with Greef hiring Cara but, for now, Mando has some Jedi family history to research. I bloody can't wait. I can't praise this series enough.
Monday, 18 May 2020
Deadwood: Season 1, Episode 1- Deadwood
"Goddammit, Swearengen. I don't trust you as far as I can throw you. But I enjoy the way you lie."
A very impressive start to Deadwood with this hour of telly, with the premise and the characters introduced with good storytelling beats and the "show, don't tell" type of exposition- no bad feat with this showing early signs of having the complexity of a fat novel.
It all fees very much like an HBO of the '00's both structurally and visually- It reminds me very much of True Blood in spite of the differences in genre.
Our first scene nicely establishes things as kindly sheriff Seth, somewhere in Montana Territory, mentions to a prisoner that he's off to Deadwood shortly. It's 1876 and, we learn, following Custer's recent last stand, the Black Hills in Dakota Territory are the focus of a gold rush.The only thing is that, legally, it's Sioux land, and the town has no legal basis and therefore is quite literally lawless. But this is nicely followed by an example of "law" in the "civilised" west- Seth is faced by a posse looking for blood, and is forced to hang the prisoner himself in a vague gesture towards "law".
No wonder he's planning to open a shop and give up the law business. But we're also introduced to the likes of a very menacing (and famous) Wild Bill Hickock, and the sweary gun girl with a heart, Calamity Jane- one of the few speaking women not pimped out and beaten up; no wonder the dresses and acts like a man. And we also meet the dangerous publican-cum-crimelord Al Swearengen, whose oddly mid-Atlantic accent is apparently deliberate. Intelligent and ruthless, he seems interesting.
Three characters are seen being shot dead in the course of the episode- it's a dangerous existence. And a family of Germans (?) trying to go home to Minnesota are massacred. It's a violent, harsh world but one redolent with what feels like realism. I much enjoyed this meaty and fascinating episode. Hopes are high for the next thirty-five.
A very impressive start to Deadwood with this hour of telly, with the premise and the characters introduced with good storytelling beats and the "show, don't tell" type of exposition- no bad feat with this showing early signs of having the complexity of a fat novel.
It all fees very much like an HBO of the '00's both structurally and visually- It reminds me very much of True Blood in spite of the differences in genre.
Our first scene nicely establishes things as kindly sheriff Seth, somewhere in Montana Territory, mentions to a prisoner that he's off to Deadwood shortly. It's 1876 and, we learn, following Custer's recent last stand, the Black Hills in Dakota Territory are the focus of a gold rush.The only thing is that, legally, it's Sioux land, and the town has no legal basis and therefore is quite literally lawless. But this is nicely followed by an example of "law" in the "civilised" west- Seth is faced by a posse looking for blood, and is forced to hang the prisoner himself in a vague gesture towards "law".
No wonder he's planning to open a shop and give up the law business. But we're also introduced to the likes of a very menacing (and famous) Wild Bill Hickock, and the sweary gun girl with a heart, Calamity Jane- one of the few speaking women not pimped out and beaten up; no wonder the dresses and acts like a man. And we also meet the dangerous publican-cum-crimelord Al Swearengen, whose oddly mid-Atlantic accent is apparently deliberate. Intelligent and ruthless, he seems interesting.
Three characters are seen being shot dead in the course of the episode- it's a dangerous existence. And a family of Germans (?) trying to go home to Minnesota are massacred. It's a violent, harsh world but one redolent with what feels like realism. I much enjoyed this meaty and fascinating episode. Hopes are high for the next thirty-five.
The Mandalorian: Chapter 7- The Reckoning
"Tea?"
This penultimate episode does nothing to stop me seeing this excellent as pretty much a Western in terms of plot, themes, characters and archetype- you could pretty much take away all the robots and spaceships and tell this whole story, flabby middle episodes and all, in the American West. This is, of course, no bad thing, and is a big part of why this genre series doesn't come across as mere fan fiction- there's lots of fan service here and there, of course, and rightly so, but fan service doesn't drive the plot so much as the notion that a Mandalorian's gotta do what a Mandalorian's gotta do.
So when Mando gets that message from Greef that he can come back and have all forgiven by the Guild if he kills his former employer, an ex-Imperial type who has the place swarming with Stormtroopers. Only here is it made clear that we are not too many years after Return of the Jedi- is this Imperial remnant a harbinger of the First Order?
Our Ugnaught friend gets a name- Kuill- and a backstory- he's moral and dignified, earning his freedom from centuries of slavery by the skill of his hands, and gently repairing IG-11 as a harmless protective and domestic droid in an extended flashback evoking parenthood. This, of course, makes us like him. So they kill him, the bastards.
It's also nice to see Cara- a person Mando respects, and perhaps almost a friend. It's also nice that Greef admits and abandons his proposed double cross after Baby Yoda heals him- this sort of thing gives the characters depth and agency, and makes them feel like people rather than plot functions. Greef May have been an antagonist but he is, in his way, an honourable man. Although I love the fact that the whole load of them are ambushed right after the line “Nothing can go wrong”.
Then things get intense. There are hordes of Stormtroopers, some of them those cool scouts with their speeder bikes, and Werner Herzog is simply superb- I love how he’s a genuinely ideological Imperial, believing the Empire brings order and not chaos (like Rome) and genuinely puzzled as to why Mandalor had to resist.
And, if things weren’t intense enough, we end with our gang all captured as a big TIE fighter lands and out comes the Big Bad, one Moff Gideon. More please. This is awesome.
This penultimate episode does nothing to stop me seeing this excellent as pretty much a Western in terms of plot, themes, characters and archetype- you could pretty much take away all the robots and spaceships and tell this whole story, flabby middle episodes and all, in the American West. This is, of course, no bad thing, and is a big part of why this genre series doesn't come across as mere fan fiction- there's lots of fan service here and there, of course, and rightly so, but fan service doesn't drive the plot so much as the notion that a Mandalorian's gotta do what a Mandalorian's gotta do.
So when Mando gets that message from Greef that he can come back and have all forgiven by the Guild if he kills his former employer, an ex-Imperial type who has the place swarming with Stormtroopers. Only here is it made clear that we are not too many years after Return of the Jedi- is this Imperial remnant a harbinger of the First Order?
Our Ugnaught friend gets a name- Kuill- and a backstory- he's moral and dignified, earning his freedom from centuries of slavery by the skill of his hands, and gently repairing IG-11 as a harmless protective and domestic droid in an extended flashback evoking parenthood. This, of course, makes us like him. So they kill him, the bastards.
It's also nice to see Cara- a person Mando respects, and perhaps almost a friend. It's also nice that Greef admits and abandons his proposed double cross after Baby Yoda heals him- this sort of thing gives the characters depth and agency, and makes them feel like people rather than plot functions. Greef May have been an antagonist but he is, in his way, an honourable man. Although I love the fact that the whole load of them are ambushed right after the line “Nothing can go wrong”.
Then things get intense. There are hordes of Stormtroopers, some of them those cool scouts with their speeder bikes, and Werner Herzog is simply superb- I love how he’s a genuinely ideological Imperial, believing the Empire brings order and not chaos (like Rome) and genuinely puzzled as to why Mandalor had to resist.
And, if things weren’t intense enough, we end with our gang all captured as a big TIE fighter lands and out comes the Big Bad, one Moff Gideon. More please. This is awesome.
Sunday, 17 May 2020
Edge of Darkness: Part 6- Fusion
"You can't die alone, Ronnie..."
"Why not? We all do, you know."
The final episode, at last. As with previous episodes, it very much feels as though a single viewing is not enough to glean what lurks within these fifty crafted minutes. Most interestingly, though, is that this final episode barely goes through the motions of being a thriller, again introducing a variation f James Lovelock's Gaia theory- will we, as Grogan (coded as a villain) transcend our Earth and move to colonise the Solar System (perhaps less likely now than it may have seemed in 1985), or will our continued pillaging of our planet see our Earth mother strangle us in our cradle with the black flowers we see in the final shot? The answer is as uncertain as Craven's fate, but he is ultimately doomed. Are we? Emma's ghost seems to imply that humanity had a sapient predecessor, swallowed by thsoe black flowers.
We get to explore the personal complexities of Jedburgh here, but again we are not spoon fed. He's a man with a death drive, yes, but he is at once sensitive and intelligent while cynical and worldly wise. Is he an environmental idealist, deep down? It's left, I think, deliberately ambiguous. Just like the future, and just like the historical currents in this chaotic world of ours, where the twin false gods of Marxism and market fundamentalism have in turn tried to impose a determinism and teleology which does not exist.
It's a downbeat ending, one that refuses to be neat and makes clear, to Harcourt's shock, that the activities at Northmoor were always sanctioned by the powers that be. Nuclear power exists. We live in a plutonium world. How long we can last is up to us. This isn't as easy, pleasant or enjoyable to watch as previous episodes, but art doesn't have to be any of those things. Sublime.
"Why not? We all do, you know."
The final episode, at last. As with previous episodes, it very much feels as though a single viewing is not enough to glean what lurks within these fifty crafted minutes. Most interestingly, though, is that this final episode barely goes through the motions of being a thriller, again introducing a variation f James Lovelock's Gaia theory- will we, as Grogan (coded as a villain) transcend our Earth and move to colonise the Solar System (perhaps less likely now than it may have seemed in 1985), or will our continued pillaging of our planet see our Earth mother strangle us in our cradle with the black flowers we see in the final shot? The answer is as uncertain as Craven's fate, but he is ultimately doomed. Are we? Emma's ghost seems to imply that humanity had a sapient predecessor, swallowed by thsoe black flowers.
We get to explore the personal complexities of Jedburgh here, but again we are not spoon fed. He's a man with a death drive, yes, but he is at once sensitive and intelligent while cynical and worldly wise. Is he an environmental idealist, deep down? It's left, I think, deliberately ambiguous. Just like the future, and just like the historical currents in this chaotic world of ours, where the twin false gods of Marxism and market fundamentalism have in turn tried to impose a determinism and teleology which does not exist.
It's a downbeat ending, one that refuses to be neat and makes clear, to Harcourt's shock, that the activities at Northmoor were always sanctioned by the powers that be. Nuclear power exists. We live in a plutonium world. How long we can last is up to us. This isn't as easy, pleasant or enjoyable to watch as previous episodes, but art doesn't have to be any of those things. Sublime.
Saturday, 16 May 2020
It Chapter Two (2019)
“You've all grown up..."
This is a long film, in many ways well-structured, good with character, well cast, with excellent effects and a witty script. There are plenty of effective scares and Bill Skarsgard is still a superb villain. This is a very good film. But it’s not quite up there with the first chapter.
Why? Well, I’ll admit it gets the main things right in spending time on the characters and the demons they carry. Pennywise always was a metaphor for abuse- sexual abuse, physical abuse, emotional abuse and (especially) gaslighting. This subtext is handled exactly right here, hence things like our glimpse of the horribly abusive relationship with which the adult Beverley starts the film. Henry Bowers, while bad, is bad because of the abuse he's suffered. And Bill's guilt over little Georgie always was exacerbated by Pennywise's gaslighting. And I like the way this version was careful to emphasise the childhood anxieties we all had, and which can linger into adulthood if we don't face them as the Losers do here. And Beverley may be a textbook example of Smurfette Syndrome, but one can't blame this film adaptation for that.
The visuals, direction, lighting and suspense are superb, as are most of the scares. But there are, it has to be said, one or two which don't quite work, and in some places made us laugh- floppy jiggle tits, I'm looking at you. And, while there are plenty of effectively funny lines, Bill Hader in particular is superb at this side of things, and there's a splendidly metatextual cameo by Stephen King in which he accuses his fictional alter ago Bill of the rubbish endings his own critics keep mentioning, in the end the film is just a little too long and flabby, ad could do with editing down just a little.
None of that detracts from the fact I very much enjoyed this film, however, and the way it was shot was superb. It just didn't quite match the standard of its predecessor.
Why? Well, I’ll admit it gets the main things right in spending time on the characters and the demons they carry. Pennywise always was a metaphor for abuse- sexual abuse, physical abuse, emotional abuse and (especially) gaslighting. This subtext is handled exactly right here, hence things like our glimpse of the horribly abusive relationship with which the adult Beverley starts the film. Henry Bowers, while bad, is bad because of the abuse he's suffered. And Bill's guilt over little Georgie always was exacerbated by Pennywise's gaslighting. And I like the way this version was careful to emphasise the childhood anxieties we all had, and which can linger into adulthood if we don't face them as the Losers do here. And Beverley may be a textbook example of Smurfette Syndrome, but one can't blame this film adaptation for that.
The visuals, direction, lighting and suspense are superb, as are most of the scares. But there are, it has to be said, one or two which don't quite work, and in some places made us laugh- floppy jiggle tits, I'm looking at you. And, while there are plenty of effectively funny lines, Bill Hader in particular is superb at this side of things, and there's a splendidly metatextual cameo by Stephen King in which he accuses his fictional alter ago Bill of the rubbish endings his own critics keep mentioning, in the end the film is just a little too long and flabby, ad could do with editing down just a little.
None of that detracts from the fact I very much enjoyed this film, however, and the way it was shot was superb. It just didn't quite match the standard of its predecessor.
Friday, 15 May 2020
Captain America (1990)
“This time we’ll have it made in Japan.”
Let's make no bones about this film, before I start to ironically praise it: there's no question that it's shite.
Its sins are many. Yes, films often change the mythology from the comics, but making the Red Skull Italian and not particularly Nazi means you haven't really got the |Red Skull... and then they remove the actual, er, red skull bit of him for the present day sequences. Matt Salinger has zero charisma or talent, and spends the first half of the film running away or being nervous. It's all plot with no characterisation- we're given no reason to like these characters.
Comparing this with the 2011 MCU film would be a cheap shot but, well, why not show us Steve in 1943 (why this pointless change?), telling a mate how desperate he is to serve his country, rather than having random characters blatantly exposit? Why not show Steve and Bernie as a couple before their embarrassingly awkward parting? Let's not pretend this film is at all adequate.
And yet... this film is by an offshoot of Cannon (it's complicated), by the same director as Cyborg, and has a perverse B movie charm, amusingly of its time in so many way. It's bad, of course, but entertainingly so. The Italian locations are pointless but beautiful. So yes, this film is rubbish, but perhaps more enjoyably so than its execrable reputation may imply.
Its sins are many. Yes, films often change the mythology from the comics, but making the Red Skull Italian and not particularly Nazi means you haven't really got the |Red Skull... and then they remove the actual, er, red skull bit of him for the present day sequences. Matt Salinger has zero charisma or talent, and spends the first half of the film running away or being nervous. It's all plot with no characterisation- we're given no reason to like these characters.
Comparing this with the 2011 MCU film would be a cheap shot but, well, why not show us Steve in 1943 (why this pointless change?), telling a mate how desperate he is to serve his country, rather than having random characters blatantly exposit? Why not show Steve and Bernie as a couple before their embarrassingly awkward parting? Let's not pretend this film is at all adequate.
And yet... this film is by an offshoot of Cannon (it's complicated), by the same director as Cyborg, and has a perverse B movie charm, amusingly of its time in so many way. It's bad, of course, but entertainingly so. The Italian locations are pointless but beautiful. So yes, this film is rubbish, but perhaps more enjoyably so than its execrable reputation may imply.
The Mandalorian: Chapter 6- The Prisoner
“A lady never tells...”
This is the third episode in a row which puts the plot to one side in favour of a story of the week. I’m sure we’re all getting rather impatient by now, but at least this episode is a cut above the previous two, and has Richard Ayoade as a rather arrogant droid and a rather complex double crossing heist plot which feels, again, like something out of a Western.
Our man Mando used to run away with a rather interesting gang, played here by a nice little variety of character actors. Perhaps the most interesting of these is Xian, a rather flirtatious Twi’lek (why do no other Twi’leks look quite like Bib Fortuna did, with two proper gnarly tentacles rather than straight pointy ones?), but you can tell from the start that there’s no honour amongst these thieves, which makes them very different from Mando. Things go entertainingly wrong throughout with some superb directing throughout, with this episode again being shot like a horror film.
Meanwhile the smarmy droid has his own agenda with baby Yoda, but it’s never a good idea to try and shoot a toddler who is strong in the ways of the Force. This is one tough childminding gig. Mando certainly has guts.
We get clever plot twists, flirting, X Wing fighters and a gripping story. Fine. But can we get back to the arc now, please?
This is the third episode in a row which puts the plot to one side in favour of a story of the week. I’m sure we’re all getting rather impatient by now, but at least this episode is a cut above the previous two, and has Richard Ayoade as a rather arrogant droid and a rather complex double crossing heist plot which feels, again, like something out of a Western.
Our man Mando used to run away with a rather interesting gang, played here by a nice little variety of character actors. Perhaps the most interesting of these is Xian, a rather flirtatious Twi’lek (why do no other Twi’leks look quite like Bib Fortuna did, with two proper gnarly tentacles rather than straight pointy ones?), but you can tell from the start that there’s no honour amongst these thieves, which makes them very different from Mando. Things go entertainingly wrong throughout with some superb directing throughout, with this episode again being shot like a horror film.
Meanwhile the smarmy droid has his own agenda with baby Yoda, but it’s never a good idea to try and shoot a toddler who is strong in the ways of the Force. This is one tough childminding gig. Mando certainly has guts.
We get clever plot twists, flirting, X Wing fighters and a gripping story. Fine. But can we get back to the arc now, please?
Thursday, 14 May 2020
Edge of Darkness: Part 5- Northmoor
“To know is to die..."
The above quote, from the ever-mercurial and ever-unknowable Jedburgh, one of the most fascinating characters in television history, seems to illustrate a point: knowledge brings us death, whether the radiation thereof is literal or metaphorical. Shades of the myth of Adam and Eve there. Yet we understand why Craven's need to know exceeds his need to live- but what of Jedburgh, who knows this may be a suicide mission? While both seem to survive- Jedburgh with the plutonium- their life expectancy is likely to be much shortened.
This episode marks an extraordinary change of focus- yes, there are the scenes of the parliamentary committee to remind us of a wider, and contested, context, but the whole episode is shaped around our two protagonists retracing the steps of Emma (who doesn't appear- she no longer needs to?) and GAIA, while being tracked by those with no qualms about killing them. It's very much shot to emphasise the constant danger, discomfort and horror. Even the bunker, with its vintage wine and luxuries, feels like a cruel joke.
Interestingly, our protagonists are both acting, intentionally or not, on behalf of spooks on both sides of the pond. But ultimately this penultimate episode reveals less of the plot than expected, even as it reveals what is physically at Northmoor. Meaning and context can wait- but will the final episode give us that? Extraordinary and unpredictable telly, playing to no one's rules.
The above quote, from the ever-mercurial and ever-unknowable Jedburgh, one of the most fascinating characters in television history, seems to illustrate a point: knowledge brings us death, whether the radiation thereof is literal or metaphorical. Shades of the myth of Adam and Eve there. Yet we understand why Craven's need to know exceeds his need to live- but what of Jedburgh, who knows this may be a suicide mission? While both seem to survive- Jedburgh with the plutonium- their life expectancy is likely to be much shortened.
This episode marks an extraordinary change of focus- yes, there are the scenes of the parliamentary committee to remind us of a wider, and contested, context, but the whole episode is shaped around our two protagonists retracing the steps of Emma (who doesn't appear- she no longer needs to?) and GAIA, while being tracked by those with no qualms about killing them. It's very much shot to emphasise the constant danger, discomfort and horror. Even the bunker, with its vintage wine and luxuries, feels like a cruel joke.
Interestingly, our protagonists are both acting, intentionally or not, on behalf of spooks on both sides of the pond. But ultimately this penultimate episode reveals less of the plot than expected, even as it reveals what is physically at Northmoor. Meaning and context can wait- but will the final episode give us that? Extraordinary and unpredictable telly, playing to no one's rules.
The Mandalorian: Chapter 5- The Gunslinger
“I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold...”
Another filler episode, then, our second in a row. It’s reasonably diverting, although notably not as good, so can we get back to the arc please?
This is only a sub-par episode by its own standards, of course. The opening starship battle is retro and cool, and the story of the week about a triangle of bounty hunters is intriguing enough, plus we get to see Ming-Na Wen. The comic mechanic and her card playing put droids are fun too. And it’s nice to see Mos Eisley again- this time a little less pernickety about droids.
But there’s not much development of plot or character, or much world building, although I like the Stormtrooper heads on spikes, and Toro’s defensive protest that “This ain’t Corellia” when showing off the speeder bikes.
But this is ultimately a double cross narrative that doesn’t go anywhere beyond this episode. It’s pretty much a Western with sci-fi trappings; even the Tusken Raiders are blatantly equated with Native Americans. Diverting, but please- no more filler.
Another filler episode, then, our second in a row. It’s reasonably diverting, although notably not as good, so can we get back to the arc please?
This is only a sub-par episode by its own standards, of course. The opening starship battle is retro and cool, and the story of the week about a triangle of bounty hunters is intriguing enough, plus we get to see Ming-Na Wen. The comic mechanic and her card playing put droids are fun too. And it’s nice to see Mos Eisley again- this time a little less pernickety about droids.
But there’s not much development of plot or character, or much world building, although I like the Stormtrooper heads on spikes, and Toro’s defensive protest that “This ain’t Corellia” when showing off the speeder bikes.
But this is ultimately a double cross narrative that doesn’t go anywhere beyond this episode. It’s pretty much a Western with sci-fi trappings; even the Tusken Raiders are blatantly equated with Native Americans. Diverting, but please- no more filler.
Wednesday, 13 May 2020
Edge of Darkness: Part 4- Breakthrough
“Well, bodies kept turning up in the bunkers, and you needed air support to play out of the rough. Kinda puts you off your game."
My, this is getting very deep indeed in terms of plot, psychology and subtext. Nothing I say here will do much more than scratch the surface, but suffice to say that this is masterfully crafted stuff.
Craven is back at home, and almost killed by McCroon, the suspect, for banal reasons of revenge. Yet there's more to this, and not just in one way. Yes, there's the fact that someone gave McCroon the information and resources he needed, but there's also the dirty tricks that took place in Northern Ireland, and Craven's own hands are very much dipped in the blood; he personally recruited informers who were subsequently dropped and allowed to be offed by the Provos. This is, to say the least, no less dishonourable than the other political games going on.
There's the genuine question over Craven's mental state, as much is driven by the presence of Emma's ghost inside his head. Then there's the mercurial Jedburgh, whose entire outward personality is a performance. Who is he, underneath? He's not just eccentric- he seems extraordinarily sanguine about the apparent recent death in El Salvador (the series oozes with '80s current affairs), and his loyalties may not just be to his CIA employers. Are we convinced by the explanation he gives Craven for co-founding GAIA?
Eventually, in a very exciting sequence, Craven gets to hack a very 1980s IT network and get a little more information- not least a map of Northmoor. He also gets Godbold to spread the beans- and, while hopelessly in hock to the nuclear industry, he was in fact Emma's man on the inside- and lets slip that the killers almost certainly suspected Craven of fulfilling that role. This is already a complex web, and a compelling one. Plus, it seems, Craven and Jedburgh are going to retrace Emma's terrorist steps.
Excellent stuff. I raised an eyebrow, however, when Craven was told that you "don't say no" to a Commons select committee or "they lock you up". Someone should tell that to Dominic Cummings.
My, this is getting very deep indeed in terms of plot, psychology and subtext. Nothing I say here will do much more than scratch the surface, but suffice to say that this is masterfully crafted stuff.
Craven is back at home, and almost killed by McCroon, the suspect, for banal reasons of revenge. Yet there's more to this, and not just in one way. Yes, there's the fact that someone gave McCroon the information and resources he needed, but there's also the dirty tricks that took place in Northern Ireland, and Craven's own hands are very much dipped in the blood; he personally recruited informers who were subsequently dropped and allowed to be offed by the Provos. This is, to say the least, no less dishonourable than the other political games going on.
There's the genuine question over Craven's mental state, as much is driven by the presence of Emma's ghost inside his head. Then there's the mercurial Jedburgh, whose entire outward personality is a performance. Who is he, underneath? He's not just eccentric- he seems extraordinarily sanguine about the apparent recent death in El Salvador (the series oozes with '80s current affairs), and his loyalties may not just be to his CIA employers. Are we convinced by the explanation he gives Craven for co-founding GAIA?
Eventually, in a very exciting sequence, Craven gets to hack a very 1980s IT network and get a little more information- not least a map of Northmoor. He also gets Godbold to spread the beans- and, while hopelessly in hock to the nuclear industry, he was in fact Emma's man on the inside- and lets slip that the killers almost certainly suspected Craven of fulfilling that role. This is already a complex web, and a compelling one. Plus, it seems, Craven and Jedburgh are going to retrace Emma's terrorist steps.
Excellent stuff. I raised an eyebrow, however, when Craven was told that you "don't say no" to a Commons select committee or "they lock you up". Someone should tell that to Dominic Cummings.
Tuesday, 12 May 2020
Edge of Darkness: Part 3- Burden of Proof
"I don't believe in the conspiracy theory of history."
This episode may perhaps be, again, less obviously artistic than the first and even more so than the second and, by now, deeply engrossed and, indeed, engrossing in the unravelling of the complex yet clearly narrated plot, but that is achieved without sacrificing either characterisation or verbal wit. This is still extraordinary, even sublime television, three episodes in.
Bob Peck is again, well, deservedly BAFTA-winning in how he portrays deep emotion and bereavement in a restrained man. Craven may be seen, by the end, by his boss as in need of help over his seeming obsession with deeper conspiracies behind Emma's death, but he is simultaneously seen by Harcourt and Pendleton, those nebulous spooks, as a credible witness for their plans to somehow nobble Bob Bennett, whom they suspect of killing Emma. Craven refuses them, of course, being the decent father that he is, but this goes to illusrate that things are not as they seem. The Texan act of the ever-thinking Jedburgh is, as H and P point out, an act. He's a fascinating, deep and nuanced character, hiding beneath both a stereotype and a supposed political standpoint, yet according to Clemmie he co-founded GAIA, an environmental organisation he now loudly derides as terrorists? With him, there are layers to unpeel.
It's odd, and disturbing, to learn of Craven's intimate, touchy-feely interrogation techniques with Lowe, but then it's established that he's a sex offender. Godbolt again pops up, looking anxious to deny things And Terry, Emma's erstwhile boyfriend, is murdered in the bath after giving Craven a clue. The plot thickens, as always. And there are far too many nuances to recount the plot. Suffice to say, I'm gripped.
If this all reads as the work of a drunk person, well, I'm forty-three today, and I've just finished a bottle of rather good Chilean Cabernet. Burp. Stay at home. Beat coronavirus with good wine. That is all.
This episode may perhaps be, again, less obviously artistic than the first and even more so than the second and, by now, deeply engrossed and, indeed, engrossing in the unravelling of the complex yet clearly narrated plot, but that is achieved without sacrificing either characterisation or verbal wit. This is still extraordinary, even sublime television, three episodes in.
Bob Peck is again, well, deservedly BAFTA-winning in how he portrays deep emotion and bereavement in a restrained man. Craven may be seen, by the end, by his boss as in need of help over his seeming obsession with deeper conspiracies behind Emma's death, but he is simultaneously seen by Harcourt and Pendleton, those nebulous spooks, as a credible witness for their plans to somehow nobble Bob Bennett, whom they suspect of killing Emma. Craven refuses them, of course, being the decent father that he is, but this goes to illusrate that things are not as they seem. The Texan act of the ever-thinking Jedburgh is, as H and P point out, an act. He's a fascinating, deep and nuanced character, hiding beneath both a stereotype and a supposed political standpoint, yet according to Clemmie he co-founded GAIA, an environmental organisation he now loudly derides as terrorists? With him, there are layers to unpeel.
It's odd, and disturbing, to learn of Craven's intimate, touchy-feely interrogation techniques with Lowe, but then it's established that he's a sex offender. Godbolt again pops up, looking anxious to deny things And Terry, Emma's erstwhile boyfriend, is murdered in the bath after giving Craven a clue. The plot thickens, as always. And there are far too many nuances to recount the plot. Suffice to say, I'm gripped.
If this all reads as the work of a drunk person, well, I'm forty-three today, and I've just finished a bottle of rather good Chilean Cabernet. Burp. Stay at home. Beat coronavirus with good wine. That is all.
The Mandalorian: Chapter 4- Sanctuary
“Stop touching things!"
A bit of a change of pace, here: our protagonist has suddenly burned loads of bridges and is looking after a child with a huge bounty on it's head. No wonder that he spends the episode on an out-of-the way episode hiding from what is, in effect, the season arc.
Much of this episode I like, including bounty hunter Cara, the cool red-eyed and menacing AT-ST which is shot like a monster in a horror film, and the doomed romance between our protaonist and the village woman. I like the way there's a third world but chilled and pleasant looking mud hut village in this futuristic world, and the cuteness of Baby Yoda playing with the other kids. But, well, there's a "but" coming.
The opening flashback sequence set in this very village- is this of our Mandalorian himself, showing what happened to him before he was found by Mandalorians, or is it perhaps a less literal parallel? And why, in protecting the village from these baddies with a badass AT-ST, does he not use his ship? He may not want to attract attention, but the agreed upon plan has that effect anyway.
Nonetheless, we get some nice moments, including the revelation that the Mandalorian hasn’t revealed his face to anyone since he was a teenager, and this episode more than any other gives a strong impression of chivalry and the ideals of knightly behaviour in a science fiction context, suggesting a meaning beyond an arty and well-made show which might otherwise nevertheless remain in its geeky ghetto.
But this, of course, is an interlude. Our protagonist and the pointy rated child must move on, and I suspect it’s time for the series arc to return. Again, good stuff, but a more flawed episode than the previous three.
A bit of a change of pace, here: our protagonist has suddenly burned loads of bridges and is looking after a child with a huge bounty on it's head. No wonder that he spends the episode on an out-of-the way episode hiding from what is, in effect, the season arc.
Much of this episode I like, including bounty hunter Cara, the cool red-eyed and menacing AT-ST which is shot like a monster in a horror film, and the doomed romance between our protaonist and the village woman. I like the way there's a third world but chilled and pleasant looking mud hut village in this futuristic world, and the cuteness of Baby Yoda playing with the other kids. But, well, there's a "but" coming.
The opening flashback sequence set in this very village- is this of our Mandalorian himself, showing what happened to him before he was found by Mandalorians, or is it perhaps a less literal parallel? And why, in protecting the village from these baddies with a badass AT-ST, does he not use his ship? He may not want to attract attention, but the agreed upon plan has that effect anyway.
Nonetheless, we get some nice moments, including the revelation that the Mandalorian hasn’t revealed his face to anyone since he was a teenager, and this episode more than any other gives a strong impression of chivalry and the ideals of knightly behaviour in a science fiction context, suggesting a meaning beyond an arty and well-made show which might otherwise nevertheless remain in its geeky ghetto.
But this, of course, is an interlude. Our protagonist and the pointy rated child must move on, and I suspect it’s time for the series arc to return. Again, good stuff, but a more flawed episode than the previous three.
The Mandalorian: Chapter 3- The Sin
“This is the Way!”
This series is getting deeper and even more interesting. On the surface this is an episode of our (anti-?) hero delivering baby Yoda to his famous German film director employer with his Stormtrooper bodyguards, using his Beskar payment to have a new and swankier suit of armour made, but after a crisis of conscience finally deciding to rescue the child from what seems like potential vivisection- and getting unexpected help for I revealed reasons from loads of other Mandalorians. That’s it. That’s the plot.
Except there’s a lot more to it than that, some of it very subtle character development and some of it equally subtle world building. And, like previous episodes, it’s beautifully shot.
The scene in the armoury drops all sorts of fascinating hints about Mandalorian culture, and "the Way"- a fastidious code of honour and the need to provide some (very expensive) Beskar for the needs of "foundlings". There are hints that the Empire, although now very much defunct, is disliked for what it has done to reduce Mandalorian numbers. There are also hints that his Ugnaught friend of recent episodes was unknowingly helping an enemy.
And so our protagonist gets some new armour, equipped with "Whistling birds" and visits Greef Kargo for another job. Time to move on from Baby Yoda, right? After all, he's been paid and it's against the bounty hunter code to enquire further, right?
Except he decides to rescue the child- and his fellow Mandalorians, we know not why, must agree with his reasons as he eventually receives their help in numbers and, as dialogue confirms, risk of unpleasant consequences. Is this linked to their commitment to "foundlings", including baby Yoda now?
Our protagonist fights both his recent employer and Greef, his source of new jobs. He must be pretty damn committed to this kid. And again our central character is fascinating- always helmeted, taciturn, but ethical and conflicted. This is excellent stuff.
This series is getting deeper and even more interesting. On the surface this is an episode of our (anti-?) hero delivering baby Yoda to his famous German film director employer with his Stormtrooper bodyguards, using his Beskar payment to have a new and swankier suit of armour made, but after a crisis of conscience finally deciding to rescue the child from what seems like potential vivisection- and getting unexpected help for I revealed reasons from loads of other Mandalorians. That’s it. That’s the plot.
Except there’s a lot more to it than that, some of it very subtle character development and some of it equally subtle world building. And, like previous episodes, it’s beautifully shot.
The scene in the armoury drops all sorts of fascinating hints about Mandalorian culture, and "the Way"- a fastidious code of honour and the need to provide some (very expensive) Beskar for the needs of "foundlings". There are hints that the Empire, although now very much defunct, is disliked for what it has done to reduce Mandalorian numbers. There are also hints that his Ugnaught friend of recent episodes was unknowingly helping an enemy.
And so our protagonist gets some new armour, equipped with "Whistling birds" and visits Greef Kargo for another job. Time to move on from Baby Yoda, right? After all, he's been paid and it's against the bounty hunter code to enquire further, right?
Except he decides to rescue the child- and his fellow Mandalorians, we know not why, must agree with his reasons as he eventually receives their help in numbers and, as dialogue confirms, risk of unpleasant consequences. Is this linked to their commitment to "foundlings", including baby Yoda now?
Our protagonist fights both his recent employer and Greef, his source of new jobs. He must be pretty damn committed to this kid. And again our central character is fascinating- always helmeted, taciturn, but ethical and conflicted. This is excellent stuff.
Sunday, 10 May 2020
Ant-Man and the Wasp (2018)
“Anyone see a southern gentleman carrying a building?”
We have Disney Plus now, so it’s time to go back and fill those few remaining gaps. The oldest film I haven’t blogged (but have seen) is Captain America: Civil War, but I’ll get to that soon. This is another Marvel triumph, if anything better than its predecessor, and the perfect blend of comedy, heist antics and superheroics. Paul Rudd is again superb, with excellent comic timing, and the whole plot fits together like the perfect farce. This is the comedy corner of the MCU, and it’s a fun place to be.
There’s also plenty to satisfy my inner geek. Scott’s antics with “Cap” have had severe consequences. The first post-credits scene links things very firmly with the events in the more serious films. And we have a new female version of Ghost- whose father is Egghead, a nice touch. We also meet Bill Foster- played superbly, as ever, by Laurence Fishburne. Let’s hope he’ll be Goliath once more the next time we see him. Michelle Pfeiffer may be very much at odds with the Janet Van Dyne from the comics, but she’s good. It’s good to see her and Hank Pym get their happy ending- sort of.
This film mixes stapstick humour, wit, superhero action, car chases and quantum trippiness to give us a concoction that may not aspire any higher than to be a fun little blockbuster, but it does that very well. Any film with a building that can be wheeled along like a briefcase has to be cool.
Friday, 8 May 2020
The Way Ahead (1944)
"I wonder what we'll look like in 1970, ."
I write this on the seventy-fifth anniversary of VE Day, in 2020. It's a weird anniversary, during the Great Plague and in the midst of lockdown. But oddly enough spirits seem to be raised. I took Little Miss Llamastrangler out on her scooter this afternoon and lots of people have decorated their front gardens and are socialising from a distance. A decent amount of alcohol, I hope, has been consumed. I'm doing my bit. The anniversary of Nazi rule being crushed is well worth celebrating, and can perhaps give us hope.
So what better to blog than a wartime propaganda film from 1944, when things were looking up but victory was uncertain? Prpaganda this may be, but crude it isn't. Eric Ambler and Peter Ustinov (also appearing as a pied-noir cafe owner in occupied Algeria) have given us a very human script full of individuals who ring true today, let alone in 1944. Lloyd (I recognise the actor from The Great Escape) is an unscrupulous landlord turned courageous soldier, while Parsons is a victim of such types. There's mention of the Beveridge Report. For much of the class consciousness and difference which is the main thing which ages social mores in this film, there's a real solidarity that demands a Welfare State along with victory.
There may be better way films than this, but it does a fine job of showing ordinary blokes slowly being turned into soldiers, with lots of action at the very end. David Niven is excellent and charismatic, Stanley Holloway is brilliantly comedic, but a young William Hartnell perhaps gives the best performance as the sergeant. It’s also clear that this was a huge influence on Carry On Sergeant in terms of plot, and not just Hartnell. Then again, a young John Laurie may as well be playing a younger Private Fraser from Dad’s Army, and the Chelsea Pensioners acting as Greek Chorus probably contain the seeds of a certain other character who was wont to mention fuzzy wuzzies. Very much worth seeing. And happy VE Day. Stay safe.
So what better to blog than a wartime propaganda film from 1944, when things were looking up but victory was uncertain? Prpaganda this may be, but crude it isn't. Eric Ambler and Peter Ustinov (also appearing as a pied-noir cafe owner in occupied Algeria) have given us a very human script full of individuals who ring true today, let alone in 1944. Lloyd (I recognise the actor from The Great Escape) is an unscrupulous landlord turned courageous soldier, while Parsons is a victim of such types. There's mention of the Beveridge Report. For much of the class consciousness and difference which is the main thing which ages social mores in this film, there's a real solidarity that demands a Welfare State along with victory.
There may be better way films than this, but it does a fine job of showing ordinary blokes slowly being turned into soldiers, with lots of action at the very end. David Niven is excellent and charismatic, Stanley Holloway is brilliantly comedic, but a young William Hartnell perhaps gives the best performance as the sergeant. It’s also clear that this was a huge influence on Carry On Sergeant in terms of plot, and not just Hartnell. Then again, a young John Laurie may as well be playing a younger Private Fraser from Dad’s Army, and the Chelsea Pensioners acting as Greek Chorus probably contain the seeds of a certain other character who was wont to mention fuzzy wuzzies. Very much worth seeing. And happy VE Day. Stay safe.
Wednesday, 6 May 2020
Edge of Darkness: Part 2- Into the Shadows
“It’s an anal disease. Marx has trouble with his bowels...”
A less poetic episode this time, perhaps. The camera lingers less and we have a greater focus on the unfolding mystery. There's a lot of plot, although masterful scripting means both that it's easy to follow and the exposition follows naturally from character.
So the subtle recap at the start comes from the faces of the appalled investigating officers as they hear a tape recording of Ronald Craven's testimony- and I shall start calling him Craven rather than Ronnie; it fits his world. And the world of the spooks- not just Pendleton but Harcourt, his eccentric "other half", played by a young Ian McNeice- is one of exposition, certainly, but also of contrast- southern as opposed to northern, wit and eccentricity as opposed to Craven's sober stillness.
Then there's Emma's shifty boyfriend Terry, played an extraordinarily young Tim McInnerny of the same age as when he first played Percy in Black Adder II. He's a man of apparently strong political views but of dodgy loyalties- a police informer and sleeping with another girl before Emma is even buried. He is, I think, very much a type you'll see in the various organisations of the hard left, some of them rather rapey and all of them full of big fish playing their little games in small pools. Craven doesn't like him and, as we see everything through his eyes (including his daughter in his mind's eye, which continues to humanise him), neither do we.
But by this point we know that Emma led a raid on a nuclear facility at Northmoor. And we, and Craven, learn much more when we meet the fascinating figure of Jedburgh, who hides considerable depths beneath that Stetson hat and brash, Republican, Commie-bashing exterior. He and Craven bond unexpectedly over Willie Nelson, and we discover more juicy little details.
This is clever, controlled, deeply human and a fascinating glimpse into the psyche of 1985. I'm utterly addicted.
A less poetic episode this time, perhaps. The camera lingers less and we have a greater focus on the unfolding mystery. There's a lot of plot, although masterful scripting means both that it's easy to follow and the exposition follows naturally from character.
So the subtle recap at the start comes from the faces of the appalled investigating officers as they hear a tape recording of Ronald Craven's testimony- and I shall start calling him Craven rather than Ronnie; it fits his world. And the world of the spooks- not just Pendleton but Harcourt, his eccentric "other half", played by a young Ian McNeice- is one of exposition, certainly, but also of contrast- southern as opposed to northern, wit and eccentricity as opposed to Craven's sober stillness.
Then there's Emma's shifty boyfriend Terry, played an extraordinarily young Tim McInnerny of the same age as when he first played Percy in Black Adder II. He's a man of apparently strong political views but of dodgy loyalties- a police informer and sleeping with another girl before Emma is even buried. He is, I think, very much a type you'll see in the various organisations of the hard left, some of them rather rapey and all of them full of big fish playing their little games in small pools. Craven doesn't like him and, as we see everything through his eyes (including his daughter in his mind's eye, which continues to humanise him), neither do we.
But by this point we know that Emma led a raid on a nuclear facility at Northmoor. And we, and Craven, learn much more when we meet the fascinating figure of Jedburgh, who hides considerable depths beneath that Stetson hat and brash, Republican, Commie-bashing exterior. He and Craven bond unexpectedly over Willie Nelson, and we discover more juicy little details.
This is clever, controlled, deeply human and a fascinating glimpse into the psyche of 1985. I'm utterly addicted.
Tuesday, 5 May 2020
Edge of Darkness: Part 1- Compassionate Leave
“Stop playing by the rules, Ronald."
I'm going in cold; unlike several old classic BBC dramas I haven't seen this before. And first impressions are that, gosh, this is good. Moody, griping, atmospheric, well directed and all of that from the very start. Even the music is effective and evocative with Eric Clapton's guitar singing with emotion- and I say this as someone who can appreciate Clapton's talent (even Hendrix really rated him), but really isn't a fan of the sort of slickly produced, show-offy guitar wanking that he'd become known for by this point, a kind of Mark Knopfler with a more impressive past.
And mood is central here. Oh, there's compelling mystery and conspiracy here aplenty- Ronnie, a Yorkshire police inspector, is investigating a somewhat menacing and dodgy Trade Union official (or Labour MP; it isn't clear) who is, I suspect a red herring. His daughter is a charismatic political activist who is suddenly shot dead by a gunman who may have been aiming for him. So he heads down to London on leave to investigate her death, only to be told by a spook that she was some sort of "terrorist". That is, I suppose, more or less the plot.
But this episode isn't really about any of that at all. It's about Ronnie's immense pain of bereavement- he lost his wife to cancer and has now lost his daughter- channeled through a very masculine, very English and, indeed, very Yorkshire stiff upper lip concealing swirling depth of emotional ferment, conveyed with extraordinary stillness by Bob Peck. It's also about the close and emotional relationship between a father and the daughter he never fully knew- something which has a powerful force for any father of a daughter. Her ghost speaks to him in his head throughout, showing us what a strong bond they had after his wife's death- and crucially humanising this undemonstrative man.
It's in searching Emma's bedroom that Ronnie finds a folder full of artifacts relating to something she seems to have been investigating- a map, a gun, a Geiger counter- but the scene is about more than plot. It's about Ronnie putting Willie Nelson's "Time of the Preacher" on the record player and the song mirrors his action, moods and desires- ending with it quite clear that he's on a mission of revenge.
One brief scene hints at some men, one of them a Stetson-sporting American, who seem to have been in on whatever Emma was up to, but we follow Ronnie down to the alien, unsettling world of London and the south of England, where things become even more murky.
There are glimpses of political issues throughout- early environmentalism; nuclear weapons; the corruption of the old Trade Union establishment- but it's striking how soft left Labour MP and future Environment minister, the late Michael Meacher, gets to do the large part of what looks like a stump speech.
I don't know where this is going yet. But I know how it feels, and so far it's wonderful.
I'm going in cold; unlike several old classic BBC dramas I haven't seen this before. And first impressions are that, gosh, this is good. Moody, griping, atmospheric, well directed and all of that from the very start. Even the music is effective and evocative with Eric Clapton's guitar singing with emotion- and I say this as someone who can appreciate Clapton's talent (even Hendrix really rated him), but really isn't a fan of the sort of slickly produced, show-offy guitar wanking that he'd become known for by this point, a kind of Mark Knopfler with a more impressive past.
And mood is central here. Oh, there's compelling mystery and conspiracy here aplenty- Ronnie, a Yorkshire police inspector, is investigating a somewhat menacing and dodgy Trade Union official (or Labour MP; it isn't clear) who is, I suspect a red herring. His daughter is a charismatic political activist who is suddenly shot dead by a gunman who may have been aiming for him. So he heads down to London on leave to investigate her death, only to be told by a spook that she was some sort of "terrorist". That is, I suppose, more or less the plot.
But this episode isn't really about any of that at all. It's about Ronnie's immense pain of bereavement- he lost his wife to cancer and has now lost his daughter- channeled through a very masculine, very English and, indeed, very Yorkshire stiff upper lip concealing swirling depth of emotional ferment, conveyed with extraordinary stillness by Bob Peck. It's also about the close and emotional relationship between a father and the daughter he never fully knew- something which has a powerful force for any father of a daughter. Her ghost speaks to him in his head throughout, showing us what a strong bond they had after his wife's death- and crucially humanising this undemonstrative man.
It's in searching Emma's bedroom that Ronnie finds a folder full of artifacts relating to something she seems to have been investigating- a map, a gun, a Geiger counter- but the scene is about more than plot. It's about Ronnie putting Willie Nelson's "Time of the Preacher" on the record player and the song mirrors his action, moods and desires- ending with it quite clear that he's on a mission of revenge.
One brief scene hints at some men, one of them a Stetson-sporting American, who seem to have been in on whatever Emma was up to, but we follow Ronnie down to the alien, unsettling world of London and the south of England, where things become even more murky.
There are glimpses of political issues throughout- early environmentalism; nuclear weapons; the corruption of the old Trade Union establishment- but it's striking how soft left Labour MP and future Environment minister, the late Michael Meacher, gets to do the large part of what looks like a stump speech.
I don't know where this is going yet. But I know how it feels, and so far it's wonderful.
Monday, 4 May 2020
Sunday, 3 May 2020
Batman: Ice Spy & The Duo Defy
Ice Spy
"Gosh, Batman. That's sure great wit all right."
Only in Batman would the above quote relate to gentle taking the piss out of Rabelais and his supposed great wit. I suspect some long-held pedagogical grudge on the part of writer Charles Hoffman.
Overall, though, this is a perfectly decent couple of episodes that has more than its share of funny moments but never really stands out. Eli Wallach gives a perfectly good performance but I think the character of Mr Freeze, on his third actor now, has outstayed his welcome somewhat. If they carry on like that they'll be casting some random Austrian bodybuilder next.
The plot is delightfully silly- use a fake iceberg to hijack a cruise ship and hijack an Icelandic professor with some formula or other. There's a glamorous moll, of course. There's a moderately interesting death trap. But the highlight of the episode, and comic highlight from the splendid Adam West, is where Gordon and O'Hara hold two phones together so Batman and Bruce Wayne can hold a conversation. It's not the first time I've said it, but being a comic straight man requires enormous talent, and West has it in spades.
Oh, and what's this window cameo from the "Carpet King"? Who he?
The Duo Defy
"A true crime fighter always carries everything he needs in his utility belt, Robin"
This second episode is just a little by-the-numbers, with a more than usually rubbish cliffhanger resolution and an ending that feels rushed, but we get more dialogue heralding the imminent arrival of Barbara Gordon, and enough wit and fun to make up for the so-so plot and mildly rubbish villain. No wonder we won't see Mr Freeze again.
The stakes, and ransom demands, are absurdly and wonderfully high. There's a nice moment in the Batcopter with the usual piece of stock footage where Robin says he can't track the bugged seal below, and Batman gently reminds him that the seal is in fact a marine mammal. We even get a slight reprise of the same Rabelais quote.
Overall, then, an average and representative story, not inappropriate to end the second season, which has had both highs and lows but notably more of the former.
A quick diversion while I blog something else (something short) over the next few days, then Season Three...
"Gosh, Batman. That's sure great wit all right."
Only in Batman would the above quote relate to gentle taking the piss out of Rabelais and his supposed great wit. I suspect some long-held pedagogical grudge on the part of writer Charles Hoffman.
Overall, though, this is a perfectly decent couple of episodes that has more than its share of funny moments but never really stands out. Eli Wallach gives a perfectly good performance but I think the character of Mr Freeze, on his third actor now, has outstayed his welcome somewhat. If they carry on like that they'll be casting some random Austrian bodybuilder next.
The plot is delightfully silly- use a fake iceberg to hijack a cruise ship and hijack an Icelandic professor with some formula or other. There's a glamorous moll, of course. There's a moderately interesting death trap. But the highlight of the episode, and comic highlight from the splendid Adam West, is where Gordon and O'Hara hold two phones together so Batman and Bruce Wayne can hold a conversation. It's not the first time I've said it, but being a comic straight man requires enormous talent, and West has it in spades.
Oh, and what's this window cameo from the "Carpet King"? Who he?
The Duo Defy
"A true crime fighter always carries everything he needs in his utility belt, Robin"
This second episode is just a little by-the-numbers, with a more than usually rubbish cliffhanger resolution and an ending that feels rushed, but we get more dialogue heralding the imminent arrival of Barbara Gordon, and enough wit and fun to make up for the so-so plot and mildly rubbish villain. No wonder we won't see Mr Freeze again.
The stakes, and ransom demands, are absurdly and wonderfully high. There's a nice moment in the Batcopter with the usual piece of stock footage where Robin says he can't track the bugged seal below, and Batman gently reminds him that the seal is in fact a marine mammal. We even get a slight reprise of the same Rabelais quote.
Overall, then, an average and representative story, not inappropriate to end the second season, which has had both highs and lows but notably more of the former.
A quick diversion while I blog something else (something short) over the next few days, then Season Three...
Destroy All Monsters (1968)
"The Earth does not belong to you humans!"
I love me a very silly monster film, and this is the silliest yet. It's the unimaginably far future, the year 1999, and naturally the UN has a base on the Moon and regular space trips there by scientists. Even more naturally, it's all controlled from a Japanese island and absolutely everyone involved is Japanese barring one token speaking foreign scientist and a couple of extras. Oh, and the social mores and interior decor are very much of the late ‘60s, and everyone smokes. Well, the men at any rate.
Oh, and all the monsters from previous films (some of which I don’t recognise but the main ones like Mothra and Rodan are all there) are kept on that very same island, prevented by technology from wandering off for a spot of marauding. Minilla doesn’t seem to be any older at all in the far future, but let’s discreetly ignore that.
But along come some nasty alien conquerors, made of metal and immortal but appearing as women and doing a lot of exposition. These fiends are using all the monsters to attack major world cities, including a major set piece in which Tokyo is destroyed yet again. You can tell it’s coming as soon as you see the nice model monorail. I love how this is such a very ‘60s idea of the future.
Fortunately good old human ingenuity and heroism wins the day, and the monsters are used to attack the aliens- but not before a massive and rather fun climactic battle between all the monsters and King Ghidorah.
This is the sort of fun, undemanding, hugely entertaining film that they just don't make any more.
Oh, and all the monsters from previous films (some of which I don’t recognise but the main ones like Mothra and Rodan are all there) are kept on that very same island, prevented by technology from wandering off for a spot of marauding. Minilla doesn’t seem to be any older at all in the far future, but let’s discreetly ignore that.
But along come some nasty alien conquerors, made of metal and immortal but appearing as women and doing a lot of exposition. These fiends are using all the monsters to attack major world cities, including a major set piece in which Tokyo is destroyed yet again. You can tell it’s coming as soon as you see the nice model monorail. I love how this is such a very ‘60s idea of the future.
Fortunately good old human ingenuity and heroism wins the day, and the monsters are used to attack the aliens- but not before a massive and rather fun climactic battle between all the monsters and King Ghidorah.
This is the sort of fun, undemanding, hugely entertaining film that they just don't make any more.
Saturday, 2 May 2020
Star Wars: Attack of the Clones (2002)
“I’m programmed for etiquette, not destruction.”
I tried to like The Phantom Menace but, while I found a good concept at its core, I didn’t entirely succeed. This time around, despite a couple of uncharismatic leads, I was surprised to find a film that was pretty damn good.
Ewan McGregor, though a good actor, is far too hopelessly miscast and awkwardly stiff as Obi Wan, a problem which remains. I didn't find Hayden Christensen t all bad as Anakin, despite his reputation, and his acting is sound- but he just doesn't have the charisma. These two aside, though, we have an engaging cast led by Natalie Portman, a superb baddie in Christopher Lee, and a bigger role for the Jedi council. We also have an exciting and well structured film that both cleverly moves the plot arc forward and convincingly develops the characters.
The main arc- the beginning of the clone wars and Palpatine assuming more power, chipping away at democracy in the beleaguered Republic as he ostensibly increases its security with a clone army-hints at an old tension between liberty and security, and it's clear that Anakin, influenced as much by Palpatine as his actual mentor Obi Wan, is on the side of the authoritarians. Yet I'm surprised more is not made of the Roman parallels- a Republic with an overstretched web of territory becoming more and more swayed by the necessity of a strong military, and even a popular politician manipulating himself into the position of Dictator, like Caesar. The political skulduggery is very well handled indeed.
Yet so is the gradually and convincingly developing romance between Padme and Anakin, which is entirely believable. And Anakin begins as likeable and not really a bad bloke- what's wrong with reasonably questioning authority, having a sexuality, being idealistic? And his only sins here are the urge to protect his mother and the woman he loves. It's only when he slaughters the Tusken Raiders as revenge for his mother, including the children, and when he lets slip his authoritarian leanings, that hints of darkness begin to appear in him as they do with the Republic itself.
But there's also plenty of action throughout, some good comedy with C-3PO and R2-D2, and some actual wit and humour in the dialogue, a joy to behold. We even get to see a cool, Kiwi origin for Boba Fett (not named here as a Mandalorian!), a lightsabre contest between Count Dooku and the awesome Yoda, and a confrontation scene between legends Christopher Lee and Samuel L. Jackson.
I think I'll come out and say it; there are a couple of flaws, yes, but the second of the prequels is a bloody good film.
Ewan McGregor, though a good actor, is far too hopelessly miscast and awkwardly stiff as Obi Wan, a problem which remains. I didn't find Hayden Christensen t all bad as Anakin, despite his reputation, and his acting is sound- but he just doesn't have the charisma. These two aside, though, we have an engaging cast led by Natalie Portman, a superb baddie in Christopher Lee, and a bigger role for the Jedi council. We also have an exciting and well structured film that both cleverly moves the plot arc forward and convincingly develops the characters.
The main arc- the beginning of the clone wars and Palpatine assuming more power, chipping away at democracy in the beleaguered Republic as he ostensibly increases its security with a clone army-hints at an old tension between liberty and security, and it's clear that Anakin, influenced as much by Palpatine as his actual mentor Obi Wan, is on the side of the authoritarians. Yet I'm surprised more is not made of the Roman parallels- a Republic with an overstretched web of territory becoming more and more swayed by the necessity of a strong military, and even a popular politician manipulating himself into the position of Dictator, like Caesar. The political skulduggery is very well handled indeed.
Yet so is the gradually and convincingly developing romance between Padme and Anakin, which is entirely believable. And Anakin begins as likeable and not really a bad bloke- what's wrong with reasonably questioning authority, having a sexuality, being idealistic? And his only sins here are the urge to protect his mother and the woman he loves. It's only when he slaughters the Tusken Raiders as revenge for his mother, including the children, and when he lets slip his authoritarian leanings, that hints of darkness begin to appear in him as they do with the Republic itself.
But there's also plenty of action throughout, some good comedy with C-3PO and R2-D2, and some actual wit and humour in the dialogue, a joy to behold. We even get to see a cool, Kiwi origin for Boba Fett (not named here as a Mandalorian!), a lightsabre contest between Count Dooku and the awesome Yoda, and a confrontation scene between legends Christopher Lee and Samuel L. Jackson.
I think I'll come out and say it; there are a couple of flaws, yes, but the second of the prequels is a bloody good film.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)