“And don’t forget to drive on the left!”
I liked the previous two episodes- fun, silly and utterly bonkers. But this final part is the most wonderful yet- although we should perhaps first pause to mark the final (brief) appearance by Madge Blake, by now very ill indeed, as Aunt Harriet.
The episode is as laugh-out-loud as any of its predecessors. I love the emphasis on "Londinium"'s supposed fog- in reality dealt with by the Clean Air Act of 1952 but as late as 1967 the old reputation persists. We also have a whiff of suspicion from Batman as he notes that both Alfred and Robin seem to know a lot more about Batgirl than he does- although later, when coming into possession of Batgirl's briefcase, he declines to open it and discover her identity. Honour among crimefighters and that.
This is enormous fun, from Lord Ffogg divulging the plot to steal the Crown Jewels to Batgirl while she’s in a death trap as is traditional to the silly unconvincing bee with an obviously visible thread. It’s also hilarious how Robin survives the deadly sting courtesy of his utility belt, only to face even direr peril- randy teenage girls. And that’s before we even get to Batman escaping the dungeon by means of the Indian rope trick. Better still, the Dynamic Duo surprise the baddies at the Tower by... dressing as Beefeaters. This final episode is the crowning jewel in a fun three parter which really catches fire at the end.
But this is Season Three, and after a phone call from President Johnson (what’s all that about his grandson?) it’s on to the next threat... a new Catwoman!
Tuesday, 30 June 2020
Sunday, 28 June 2020
Godzilla vs Megalon (1973)
“Jet Jaguar grew up."
This film is utterly, hopelessly, delightfully bonkers. Let's briefly examine the plot: an underwater civilisation that was submerged three million years is somewhat irked by a nuclear test (usual subtext then) and sends a monster called Megalon to destroy Tokyo in revenge, and totally not, say, New York or Vladivostok. Oh, and there are some human characters (not a single female in the whole film!) who have invented a frienly and very Japanese robot which, randomly, can change size to fight monsters. Oh, and the sea people call upon their alien mate to send Gigan from the last film, because the studio spent money on the prop and they're bloody well going to use this.
We can conclude two things from this. One: Japan was clearly reading Erich Von Daniken as much as everybody else in 1973. Two: this is B movie gold.
What's not to love here? I mean, Godzilla and the robot even shake hands after defeating the body. Oh, and the sea people have some vague connection to Easter Island- those megaliths are three million years old, apparently. And some of the sea people, who live under the Pacific, are Caucasian. But we probably ought to worry less about this and more about how these humans, who diverged three million years ago, seem to be anatomically modern. But let's not, and nor should we think too hard about how pe-modern hominids could have had such a hi-tech civilisation.
This is enormously entertaining, delihtfully dated and superbly un-selfconscious fun. More please.
We can conclude two things from this. One: Japan was clearly reading Erich Von Daniken as much as everybody else in 1973. Two: this is B movie gold.
What's not to love here? I mean, Godzilla and the robot even shake hands after defeating the body. Oh, and the sea people have some vague connection to Easter Island- those megaliths are three million years old, apparently. And some of the sea people, who live under the Pacific, are Caucasian. But we probably ought to worry less about this and more about how these humans, who diverged three million years ago, seem to be anatomically modern. But let's not, and nor should we think too hard about how pe-modern hominids could have had such a hi-tech civilisation.
This is enormously entertaining, delihtfully dated and superbly un-selfconscious fun. More please.
Reefer Madness (1936)
"Bring me some reefers!!!"
Oh dear. This is, obviously, a film well known to be Plan 9 from Outer Space levels of bad, the ultimate in low camp. This is of course entirely because of its absurd claims about "marijuana" which the very silly opening text describes as a "deadly narcotic" that is apparently addictive and leads to violence. The first scene, rather clumsily, is a lecture on the supposed dangers of the drug before we move on to the cautionary tale that forms the basis of the film. This is, apparently, "based on actual research", but the film appears to have been made by people without any knowledge of how weed is smoked. No one coughs, no one gets the munchies, no one passes on a joint. This is, I suppose, funny at first but doesn't make the whole film worth watching. A pity; while I personally do not endorse prohibition there is a real discussion to be had on such matters as cannabis psychosis.
The acting is appalling, but the dialogue and functional characterisation deserves no better. The narrative is clumsy and, beyond the hysterical depictions of cannabis, the only thing worthy of note is the rather disturbing depiction of how the justice system works, with the jury being quite shockingly tabloid- minded and a miscarriage of justice narrowly averted by suspiciously convenient means. If this film succeeds in putting across any message at all, it is on the evils of capital punishment.
This isn't Plan 9 from Outer Space. It isn't amusingly bad. It's just bad, as bad as it gets.
The acting is appalling, but the dialogue and functional characterisation deserves no better. The narrative is clumsy and, beyond the hysterical depictions of cannabis, the only thing worthy of note is the rather disturbing depiction of how the justice system works, with the jury being quite shockingly tabloid- minded and a miscarriage of justice narrowly averted by suspiciously convenient means. If this film succeeds in putting across any message at all, it is on the evils of capital punishment.
This isn't Plan 9 from Outer Space. It isn't amusingly bad. It's just bad, as bad as it gets.
Saturday, 27 June 2020
Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith (2005)
“So this is how liberty dies- with thunderous applause.”
The Star Wars prequels have, to put it mildly, a mixed reputation. And yet, having now rewatched them all, I have to concur with the emerging critical consensus that they are, in hindsight, admittedly flawed but perhaps also much better than their reputation.
It is, perhaps, unfortunate that the first film of the trilogy should be the most problematic. The Phantom Menace has a solid concept hiding behind a flawed structure and a less than charismatic cast. Yet these teething troubles are left far behind by this concluding instalment.
To a degree the whole concept is the film is, I suppose, pure fan service. It exists, by definition, to follow a gap in backstory between the prequels and the original trilogy. And this it does neatly, with loose ends cleared up in the final scenes, perhaps too neatly. It’s all very smoothly done, albeit with the odd necessary retcon: didn’t Leia reminisce to Luke about their mother in Return of the Jedi?
But the film is more than this. It’s an extended study of a person, Anakin Skywalker, who is played rather well by Hayden Christensen, a far better actor than his reputation. But Ian McDuarmid owns the film utterly as the seductive Palpatine, dripping poison in Anakin’s ear and ultimately corrupting him. And there are depths here. Palpatine is Augustus- not a military man but nevertheless destroying his Republic, institution by institution, until he is suddenly being referred to as emperor. There are rich themes here, echoing late Republican Rome but dealing with questions of security versus liberty- you can tell the War on Terror was a live issue- of constitutional liberalism versus convenient tyranny, and of the philosophy of the Jedi, shielding themselves from attachment because that way lies “jealousy” and therefore “greed”. But does this emotional equanimity not itself lead to callousness, itself a weakness?
This is a surprisingly deep film. Plus there are so many coolest pieces including Count Dooku fighting Anakin and Obi Wan with lightsabers (Christopher Lee is eighty-three here); General Grievous and his four lightsabers; Yoda versus the Emperor; and many more. But what will stay in my mind will be Padme’s horrified rejection of what Anakin has become. A brilliant, entertaining and surprisingly deep film.
It is, perhaps, unfortunate that the first film of the trilogy should be the most problematic. The Phantom Menace has a solid concept hiding behind a flawed structure and a less than charismatic cast. Yet these teething troubles are left far behind by this concluding instalment.
To a degree the whole concept is the film is, I suppose, pure fan service. It exists, by definition, to follow a gap in backstory between the prequels and the original trilogy. And this it does neatly, with loose ends cleared up in the final scenes, perhaps too neatly. It’s all very smoothly done, albeit with the odd necessary retcon: didn’t Leia reminisce to Luke about their mother in Return of the Jedi?
But the film is more than this. It’s an extended study of a person, Anakin Skywalker, who is played rather well by Hayden Christensen, a far better actor than his reputation. But Ian McDuarmid owns the film utterly as the seductive Palpatine, dripping poison in Anakin’s ear and ultimately corrupting him. And there are depths here. Palpatine is Augustus- not a military man but nevertheless destroying his Republic, institution by institution, until he is suddenly being referred to as emperor. There are rich themes here, echoing late Republican Rome but dealing with questions of security versus liberty- you can tell the War on Terror was a live issue- of constitutional liberalism versus convenient tyranny, and of the philosophy of the Jedi, shielding themselves from attachment because that way lies “jealousy” and therefore “greed”. But does this emotional equanimity not itself lead to callousness, itself a weakness?
This is a surprisingly deep film. Plus there are so many coolest pieces including Count Dooku fighting Anakin and Obi Wan with lightsabers (Christopher Lee is eighty-three here); General Grievous and his four lightsabers; Yoda versus the Emperor; and many more. But what will stay in my mind will be Padme’s horrified rejection of what Anakin has become. A brilliant, entertaining and surprisingly deep film.
Thursday, 25 June 2020
Batman: The Foggiest Notion
"You ogress! You vixen!"
We get more of the same this week, with everything now established. Again, the plot progresses nary an inch, but we get loads of fun set pieces and fun with stereotypes. Lord Ffog is under suspicion throughout, and Lady Peasoup known to be running a school for lady pilferers, but no one seems to be in much of a hurry to deal with them directly, instead heading of to the pub (I like how young Robin isn't allowed in) to prevent a robbery of miniskirts aimed at "the dominions". Britain here- sorry, Londinium- is a hilarious cross of Olde Worlde stereotypes and the Swinging Sixties.
Groovy, m'lord.
We get a pub brawl. We get Tower Bridge used as a deathrap although, sadly, this season doesn't end episodes with cliffhangers. We get a brief contractual appearance from Chief O'Hara. Rather more interestingly, Batman begins to suspect that Alfred knows things about Batgirl in this episode. Most hilariously of all, Lord Ffog has a device to wipe Batman's memory- but the Londinium Batcave naturally has a "Recollection Cycle Bat Restorer".
The next episode promises to be fun, too. I suspect, being the final episode of the story, it may also actually contain some plot. But frankly, who cares. This may not be clever, it may not be the best story ever, but it's fresh and fun.
We get more of the same this week, with everything now established. Again, the plot progresses nary an inch, but we get loads of fun set pieces and fun with stereotypes. Lord Ffog is under suspicion throughout, and Lady Peasoup known to be running a school for lady pilferers, but no one seems to be in much of a hurry to deal with them directly, instead heading of to the pub (I like how young Robin isn't allowed in) to prevent a robbery of miniskirts aimed at "the dominions". Britain here- sorry, Londinium- is a hilarious cross of Olde Worlde stereotypes and the Swinging Sixties.
Groovy, m'lord.
We get a pub brawl. We get Tower Bridge used as a deathrap although, sadly, this season doesn't end episodes with cliffhangers. We get a brief contractual appearance from Chief O'Hara. Rather more interestingly, Batman begins to suspect that Alfred knows things about Batgirl in this episode. Most hilariously of all, Lord Ffog has a device to wipe Batman's memory- but the Londinium Batcave naturally has a "Recollection Cycle Bat Restorer".
The next episode promises to be fun, too. I suspect, being the final episode of the story, it may also actually contain some plot. But frankly, who cares. This may not be clever, it may not be the best story ever, but it's fresh and fun.
Wednesday, 24 June 2020
Batman: The Londinium Larcenies
“Is Batman up against a sticky wicket?”
Well, this is completely unlike any previous episode. It's utterly, utterly mad, and very silly> No, it's not going to be competing for the title of best ever, but it's a charming bit of fun.
This is, of course, both Batman coming to England and also nothing of the sort. Batman is best when having fun with the fourth wall, and so naturally he visits not London, a real city of mortgages, car insurance and other such mundanities, but Londinium, a city of fog, bobbies and aristocratic baddies in deerstalkers. This is not a representation of England, but of its tropes and stereotypes, and setting the episode in "Londinium" allows that remove from dull reality.
Hence we have "Chuckingham Palace" and "Ireland Yard". We have Superintendent Watson, named afer you-know-who, with the script delightfully nodding to the fact that his office is the same set as Commissioner Gordon's with a couple of stereotypical additions. We have larger than life baddies in the dodgily accented Lord Marmaduke Ffog and the wonderful Lady Penelope Peasoup, who run a finishing school for lady thieves and plot to steal the Crown Jewels. We have a dodgy Cockney butler, and an ersatz ex-dungeon Batcave.
It's all delightful, and I don't care if the plot advances not a jot or, this being Season Three, there's no real cliffhanger: this is fun. I love ho Batman's deductions in the Superintendent's office makes no sense, how one of the three thugs who attack the Dynamic Duo has an accent echoing Dick Van Dyke, and Lord Ffog's monocle. More please.
Well, this is completely unlike any previous episode. It's utterly, utterly mad, and very silly> No, it's not going to be competing for the title of best ever, but it's a charming bit of fun.
This is, of course, both Batman coming to England and also nothing of the sort. Batman is best when having fun with the fourth wall, and so naturally he visits not London, a real city of mortgages, car insurance and other such mundanities, but Londinium, a city of fog, bobbies and aristocratic baddies in deerstalkers. This is not a representation of England, but of its tropes and stereotypes, and setting the episode in "Londinium" allows that remove from dull reality.
Hence we have "Chuckingham Palace" and "Ireland Yard". We have Superintendent Watson, named afer you-know-who, with the script delightfully nodding to the fact that his office is the same set as Commissioner Gordon's with a couple of stereotypical additions. We have larger than life baddies in the dodgily accented Lord Marmaduke Ffog and the wonderful Lady Penelope Peasoup, who run a finishing school for lady thieves and plot to steal the Crown Jewels. We have a dodgy Cockney butler, and an ersatz ex-dungeon Batcave.
It's all delightful, and I don't care if the plot advances not a jot or, this being Season Three, there's no real cliffhanger: this is fun. I love ho Batman's deductions in the Superintendent's office makes no sense, how one of the three thugs who attack the Dynamic Duo has an accent echoing Dick Van Dyke, and Lord Ffog's monocle. More please.
Tuesday, 23 June 2020
Deadwood: Season 1, Episode 6- Plague
"Swearingen's a cue and Farnum merely is a billiard ball."
There's a lot happening in this episode besides the title. Alma continues to pretend to be a junkie still while undergoing cold turkey, fooling E.B., playing for time until seth returns. Seth, meanwhile, is attacked by an opportunistic Sioux, succeeds in killing him with a rock, and is ultimately rescued by Charlie Utter, who now learns of Bill's death. It now seems they are after Bill's killer, but it looks as though this plot thread is to simmer for a bit. Good strategic writing.
Jane is a fascinating character- very much not conforming to the archetype of a lady, acting in many ways like a man, portrayed here (and potentially in reality) as of possible LGBT nature, to use an anachronism; her sexuality and, indeed gender identity, is as ambiguous as one might expect in 1876.
But she is a fully rounded person- drunk to blot out the memory of her best friend's death, but having cared for what she knows full well was a amallpox sufferer at the end of last episode. She's uneducated, uncouth, unladylike, deeply racist as per her upbringing, but not unkind beneath it all.
Then there's Joanie, who seems a bit down- but could the harsh, cynical Cy Tolliver have a thing for her? This promises to be a subtle little character thread that could run and run. Again, good writing. And the Doc, a decent man, taking centre stage while Merrick, a stereotypical newspaperman, is upstaged by Al in reporting the arrival of smallpox.
The arrival of this pestilence in the settlement dominates the episode, which makes it resonate somewhat now in June of 2020. It leads to stage managed fear and, fascinatingly, a meeting of the great and the good in which both Al and Cy relish the role of community leader and both reconcile somewhat. And we see the Reverend Smith collapse- very publicly- with his second fit. This is superbly written drama. I'm loving Deadwood, and we are nearly halfway through this first season.
There's a lot happening in this episode besides the title. Alma continues to pretend to be a junkie still while undergoing cold turkey, fooling E.B., playing for time until seth returns. Seth, meanwhile, is attacked by an opportunistic Sioux, succeeds in killing him with a rock, and is ultimately rescued by Charlie Utter, who now learns of Bill's death. It now seems they are after Bill's killer, but it looks as though this plot thread is to simmer for a bit. Good strategic writing.
Jane is a fascinating character- very much not conforming to the archetype of a lady, acting in many ways like a man, portrayed here (and potentially in reality) as of possible LGBT nature, to use an anachronism; her sexuality and, indeed gender identity, is as ambiguous as one might expect in 1876.
But she is a fully rounded person- drunk to blot out the memory of her best friend's death, but having cared for what she knows full well was a amallpox sufferer at the end of last episode. She's uneducated, uncouth, unladylike, deeply racist as per her upbringing, but not unkind beneath it all.
Then there's Joanie, who seems a bit down- but could the harsh, cynical Cy Tolliver have a thing for her? This promises to be a subtle little character thread that could run and run. Again, good writing. And the Doc, a decent man, taking centre stage while Merrick, a stereotypical newspaperman, is upstaged by Al in reporting the arrival of smallpox.
The arrival of this pestilence in the settlement dominates the episode, which makes it resonate somewhat now in June of 2020. It leads to stage managed fear and, fascinatingly, a meeting of the great and the good in which both Al and Cy relish the role of community leader and both reconcile somewhat. And we see the Reverend Smith collapse- very publicly- with his second fit. This is superbly written drama. I'm loving Deadwood, and we are nearly halfway through this first season.
Sunday, 21 June 2020
Batman: Surfs up! Joker's Under!
"Cowabunga!"
This extraordinarily inconsistent season has shown us the full range of high to low and, indeed, high camp to low camp. This episode is strangely in the midde- a ridiculous tale of the Joker plotting to win a surfing championship by using a skill-draining machine which will, er, apparently somehow lead to him having power over Gotham and then the world. The script, perhaps wisely, does not elaborate on how.
There's certainly a lot of fun to be had- I love how the Commissioner and O'Hara parade around the beach in "disguise" as surfers, deriving comedy from being fish out of water ("Most true surfers are known as Duke, Skip, Rabbit or Buzzy", apparently), but the episode seems to exactly skirt the line between playful mocking of its own tropes and just plain Saturday morning cartoon logic. We end with a surfing contest between Batman and the Joker, both of them wearing their "baggies" over their costumes.And Barbara Gordon doesn't even become Batgirl until there are literally two minutes left.
I have gunuinely no idea whether this episode is being clever and ironic or not. Given the writer, I suspect the latter. But I can't say it wasn't fun.
This extraordinarily inconsistent season has shown us the full range of high to low and, indeed, high camp to low camp. This episode is strangely in the midde- a ridiculous tale of the Joker plotting to win a surfing championship by using a skill-draining machine which will, er, apparently somehow lead to him having power over Gotham and then the world. The script, perhaps wisely, does not elaborate on how.
There's certainly a lot of fun to be had- I love how the Commissioner and O'Hara parade around the beach in "disguise" as surfers, deriving comedy from being fish out of water ("Most true surfers are known as Duke, Skip, Rabbit or Buzzy", apparently), but the episode seems to exactly skirt the line between playful mocking of its own tropes and just plain Saturday morning cartoon logic. We end with a surfing contest between Batman and the Joker, both of them wearing their "baggies" over their costumes.And Barbara Gordon doesn't even become Batgirl until there are literally two minutes left.
I have gunuinely no idea whether this episode is being clever and ironic or not. Given the writer, I suspect the latter. But I can't say it wasn't fun.
Brexit: The Uncivil War
“Referendums are quite simply the worst way to decide anything. They’re divisive. They pretend complex choices are simple binaries- red or blue, black or white.”
It’s interesting watching this so soon after the National Theatre production of another James Graham play, This House; the parallels are striking, from the focus on back room operators rather than big political names to the introduction of each character as either "Remain" or "Leave", paralleling the uses of constituencies in This House. And, of course, the script is superb- human, philosophical, witty and awfully clever in how it presents the Brexit referendum as a coherent narrative.
Benedict Cumberbatch is superb as Dominic Cummings, unconvincing Mackem accent notwithstanding; this Leicestershire lad is married to a Geordie and knows these things. Cummings is, of course, much more well known today as Boris' puppet master and devotee of the driving-based eye test. This is a fascinating character study of a highly intelligent and capable man and a campaigning genius- I like how his clear campaigning methods are juxtaposed with those of the useless Remain campaign- whose sheer talent in this area should not be mistaken for a coherent or clever political philosophy. We are already seeing how his campaigning talents do not transfer to governing. Yet there's no denying his talents in the campaigning arena, especially against the uselessness of his opponents, unthinkingly rolling out the Clinton '92 "economy, stupid" campaign after a quarter of a century and not for once presenting Brexit as the massive surrender of sovereignty that it is, or speaking to those who have been forgotten by such campaigners.
We see both Cummings' arrogance and his unlikely charisma as well as, interestingly, as much of a clash between the two Leave campaigns as between the two opposing sides. And the script does not let Cummings off the hook for his "dead cat" methods of lying, nor for either the cynicism of letting Farage and his rabble of not-racist-buts talk about immigration, nor for his own mendacity about seventy million Turks. And yet the use of Bill Cash and Bernard Jenkin as foils allow even a Remainer like me to enjoy Cumming's effortless batting off of an attempted coup. One would think I would find this depressing, given the awfulness of its subject matter. It's a real credit to the script and to Cumberbatch that I don't.
Benedict Cumberbatch is superb as Dominic Cummings, unconvincing Mackem accent notwithstanding; this Leicestershire lad is married to a Geordie and knows these things. Cummings is, of course, much more well known today as Boris' puppet master and devotee of the driving-based eye test. This is a fascinating character study of a highly intelligent and capable man and a campaigning genius- I like how his clear campaigning methods are juxtaposed with those of the useless Remain campaign- whose sheer talent in this area should not be mistaken for a coherent or clever political philosophy. We are already seeing how his campaigning talents do not transfer to governing. Yet there's no denying his talents in the campaigning arena, especially against the uselessness of his opponents, unthinkingly rolling out the Clinton '92 "economy, stupid" campaign after a quarter of a century and not for once presenting Brexit as the massive surrender of sovereignty that it is, or speaking to those who have been forgotten by such campaigners.
We see both Cummings' arrogance and his unlikely charisma as well as, interestingly, as much of a clash between the two Leave campaigns as between the two opposing sides. And the script does not let Cummings off the hook for his "dead cat" methods of lying, nor for either the cynicism of letting Farage and his rabble of not-racist-buts talk about immigration, nor for his own mendacity about seventy million Turks. And yet the use of Bill Cash and Bernard Jenkin as foils allow even a Remainer like me to enjoy Cumming's effortless batting off of an attempted coup. One would think I would find this depressing, given the awfulness of its subject matter. It's a real credit to the script and to Cumberbatch that I don't.
Saturday, 20 June 2020
Godzilla vs Gigan (1972)
“Only Godzilla has a chance..."
Time for another Godzilla film, and it's not as though this one isn't pretty much the greatest hits. Again, aliens that look like humans and act secretly (these ones are cockroaches from a world environmentally despoiled and, in a nice touch, we see their shadows). Again, we spend the first half of the film un layering a mystery while the second half is all monster set pieces.
But there's no getting away from how much fun this is, especially with the nicely metatextual theme of comic books (the hero is a comic book artist) and heroic Godzilla and Angilas talking via speech bubble(!) as they swim from Monster Island to save the world. Just let's not dwell on how they're suddenly able to escape its waters.
The baddies are a suspiciously depowered King Ghidorah and a new partly metal monster, who has a cool chainsaw but, surprisingly, isn't really all that prominent for much of the film. The set pieces are awesome, but go on a little too long, and I love the blatant use not only of models but of toy dolls.
Yes, it's derivative and no, it's not the best film in the franchise, but there's no denying how much fun it is. It's also nice to see an environmentalist message, although I suspect we shouldn't look too hard to find a subtext in the people behind a fashionable '70s kids' adventure playground being evil aliens. This is, well, another Godzilla film. But we know what we're getting, stock footage and all, and it doesn't disappoint.
But there's no getting away from how much fun this is, especially with the nicely metatextual theme of comic books (the hero is a comic book artist) and heroic Godzilla and Angilas talking via speech bubble(!) as they swim from Monster Island to save the world. Just let's not dwell on how they're suddenly able to escape its waters.
The baddies are a suspiciously depowered King Ghidorah and a new partly metal monster, who has a cool chainsaw but, surprisingly, isn't really all that prominent for much of the film. The set pieces are awesome, but go on a little too long, and I love the blatant use not only of models but of toy dolls.
Yes, it's derivative and no, it's not the best film in the franchise, but there's no denying how much fun it is. It's also nice to see an environmentalist message, although I suspect we shouldn't look too hard to find a subtext in the people behind a fashionable '70s kids' adventure playground being evil aliens. This is, well, another Godzilla film. But we know what we're getting, stock footage and all, and it doesn't disappoint.
Thursday, 18 June 2020
Captain America: Civil War (2016)
“Congratulations, cap. You're a criminal."
I saw this film at the cinema in 2016, at the Silverlink up near Newcastle, with Mrs Llamastrangler. It was years ago, yes, but I hadn't blogged the prequels and wanted to do them all in order, so it hasn't been until this rewatching of the film that I've blogged it. Technicaliies and that.
Anyway, this is a film that is awesome in all the usual Marvel ways. We have top notch exciting action scenes. We somehow have a large cast where every character is well characterised and the dialogue is awesome. We have loads of nods to the fans, hence Crossbones and Zeno, even if the character is a little wasted here.
But at the heart of the film is a massive ideological fault line that divides all the heroes- and it’s easy for me, as a liberal and a Liberal, to emphasise with both sides. My civil libertarian instincts make me want to side with Cap, especially as the argument that heroes are to be castigated for those sad in innocent deaths that occur while they are saving many more lives, as in Sokovia. This is a silly argument. And yet... should not those with power be held to account, as we should do for those we allow to wield political power? Is it not important that potential tyrants not be allowed free rein? Even here, where the Sokovia Accords have the appearance of a bad compromise, I’d hesitate to disagree with Tony Stark here, even if many of his actual arguments are bad ones.
This film has depth. It has comedy- and not all of it with Ant-Man. It has drama. It has tragedy. It has the introduction of both a charismatic Black Panther and a new, young Spider-Man with a hot Aunt May. Marvel films are generally awesome, but this is one of the very finest.
Anyway, this is a film that is awesome in all the usual Marvel ways. We have top notch exciting action scenes. We somehow have a large cast where every character is well characterised and the dialogue is awesome. We have loads of nods to the fans, hence Crossbones and Zeno, even if the character is a little wasted here.
But at the heart of the film is a massive ideological fault line that divides all the heroes- and it’s easy for me, as a liberal and a Liberal, to emphasise with both sides. My civil libertarian instincts make me want to side with Cap, especially as the argument that heroes are to be castigated for those sad in innocent deaths that occur while they are saving many more lives, as in Sokovia. This is a silly argument. And yet... should not those with power be held to account, as we should do for those we allow to wield political power? Is it not important that potential tyrants not be allowed free rein? Even here, where the Sokovia Accords have the appearance of a bad compromise, I’d hesitate to disagree with Tony Stark here, even if many of his actual arguments are bad ones.
This film has depth. It has comedy- and not all of it with Ant-Man. It has drama. It has tragedy. It has the introduction of both a charismatic Black Panther and a new, young Spider-Man with a hot Aunt May. Marvel films are generally awesome, but this is one of the very finest.
Monday, 15 June 2020
The Madness of King George III (National Theatre, 2018)
"May I congratulate Your Majesty on another splendid stool?"
Circumstances, not necessarily good ones, make it possible for me to watch and blog this triumphant production from the National Theatre and the Nottingham Playhouse- both of which will need support in the coming months, as theatres traditionally do in times of plague.
Alan Bennett's wonderful 1991 play (look in the films index for my blog of the excellent 1994 film starring the late, lamented Nigel Hawthorne) is, perhaps, dated by the depiction of blue urine and the then-fashionable diagnosis of porphyria. But who cares. Literary art needs not a diagnosis. It deals in human nature. And Mark Gatiss- not, perhaps, a traditionally classical actor, gives us a performance which may well surpass that of the sainted Sir Humphrey.
The play is, of course, a masterpiece. We first see the king as he is- erudite, sexually repressed, an extrovert forced inwards by a role which forbids introspection. He is a force of personality when sane, as the early scenes effortlessly depict. The reason for his lapse of reason may not be porphyria- Gatiss has suggested a nervous breakdown- but it matters not. What matters is the star, and Gatiss more than delivers. The script sings of human nature, of the 1780s, of the British constitution, of the human psyche. Of all the kings of England, Charles II is the one you'd want a pint with, but you’d want George III on the psychiatrist’s chair. He may have weathered the crisis of 1788. but his end would not be a happy one. The gilded cage, inevitably, has its casualties.
It is, perhaps, questionable that the quacks should all be played by women, but one of them is the wonderful Louise Jameson. But the production gets no further criticism, from me. Again, we see an erudite and human script triumphant. And Gatiss is a revelation. Please... see this production before Thursday.
Circumstances, not necessarily good ones, make it possible for me to watch and blog this triumphant production from the National Theatre and the Nottingham Playhouse- both of which will need support in the coming months, as theatres traditionally do in times of plague.
Alan Bennett's wonderful 1991 play (look in the films index for my blog of the excellent 1994 film starring the late, lamented Nigel Hawthorne) is, perhaps, dated by the depiction of blue urine and the then-fashionable diagnosis of porphyria. But who cares. Literary art needs not a diagnosis. It deals in human nature. And Mark Gatiss- not, perhaps, a traditionally classical actor, gives us a performance which may well surpass that of the sainted Sir Humphrey.
The play is, of course, a masterpiece. We first see the king as he is- erudite, sexually repressed, an extrovert forced inwards by a role which forbids introspection. He is a force of personality when sane, as the early scenes effortlessly depict. The reason for his lapse of reason may not be porphyria- Gatiss has suggested a nervous breakdown- but it matters not. What matters is the star, and Gatiss more than delivers. The script sings of human nature, of the 1780s, of the British constitution, of the human psyche. Of all the kings of England, Charles II is the one you'd want a pint with, but you’d want George III on the psychiatrist’s chair. He may have weathered the crisis of 1788. but his end would not be a happy one. The gilded cage, inevitably, has its casualties.
It is, perhaps, questionable that the quacks should all be played by women, but one of them is the wonderful Louise Jameson. But the production gets no further criticism, from me. Again, we see an erudite and human script triumphant. And Gatiss is a revelation. Please... see this production before Thursday.
Friday, 12 June 2020
The Dead Zone (1983)
"The missiles are flying!"
Two David Cronenberg films in one year? This film is probably a little less well known than Videodrome, which I liked a lot. But it's probably the better film.
I suppose it must be admitted that the film relies heavily on Stephen King's original novel, of which it's an adaptation and which I haven't seen. But the film is superbly shot and paced, Christopher Walken is superb as a decidedly non-heroic lead, and the cruelty of the various tragedies are all the more effective for their unsentimental depiction. Spielberg this ain't.
This is an unnerving depiction of a normal, decent but fallible person who develops psychic powers after an accident, but at the huge cost of losing five years of his life and, worse, the love of his life. His bitterness is very human, and I like how it takes him time to reluctantly use his "powers" to help people- although his conscience tends to prevail.
This is not a film about a superhero, but a realistic depiction of how frightening it must be to have "powers" which one can neither control or understand, which are unnerving and uncomfortable, and which bring pain, possible eventual death, unwanted fame and, ultimately, impossible moral dilemmas.
This is at once a tragic love story, a story about ethics and one of the most intelligent and thought provoking examination of the implications of psychic powers. Not a great film, perhaps, but a highly impressive one.
I suppose it must be admitted that the film relies heavily on Stephen King's original novel, of which it's an adaptation and which I haven't seen. But the film is superbly shot and paced, Christopher Walken is superb as a decidedly non-heroic lead, and the cruelty of the various tragedies are all the more effective for their unsentimental depiction. Spielberg this ain't.
This is an unnerving depiction of a normal, decent but fallible person who develops psychic powers after an accident, but at the huge cost of losing five years of his life and, worse, the love of his life. His bitterness is very human, and I like how it takes him time to reluctantly use his "powers" to help people- although his conscience tends to prevail.
This is not a film about a superhero, but a realistic depiction of how frightening it must be to have "powers" which one can neither control or understand, which are unnerving and uncomfortable, and which bring pain, possible eventual death, unwanted fame and, ultimately, impossible moral dilemmas.
This is at once a tragic love story, a story about ethics and one of the most intelligent and thought provoking examination of the implications of psychic powers. Not a great film, perhaps, but a highly impressive one.
Thursday, 11 June 2020
Batman: How to Hatch a Dinosaur
"Think they can crack it, Commissioner?"
This second episode begins with a threat to undermine Egghead as much as the previous episode did, as we first see him riding that silly donkey all poised to play second fiddle to the increasingly annoying Olga.
Fortunately, this time those fears prove unfounded and Vincent Price gets the chance for a proper outing as the arch-criminal, with Egghead this time taking the lead. And his plan is gloriously bonkers: steal some radium, steal a dinosaur egg, and get the egg to hatch into a live dinosaur which will, for some reason not quite clear, fall under the control of Egghead and Olga and in no way turn agaist them. That it seems to do so is the most predictable and obvious trope ever. This is all very silly.
Except this is the right kind of silly. This is high camp, not low camp and, unlike the previous episode, this instalment has plenty of fun at the expense of its own tropes. So yes, the dinosaur is an unconvincing man in the suit- but this is completely diegetic, and the man in the suit is Batman.
We also have O'Hara noting that poisoning the water supply is a "favourite trick of Gotham City's arch criminals". Meanwhile we have Alfred. holding two phones, giving the same information to Batman and Batgirl in a splendidly silly bit of slapstick. And Robin even gives the fourth wall a knock ("Why didn't we think of this before, Batman?") when the Dynamic Duo find a way of using technobabble to track down the baddies at a moment convenient to the plot.
This is much, much better, and enormous fun- and Barbara is a surfer? I didn't expect that!
This second episode begins with a threat to undermine Egghead as much as the previous episode did, as we first see him riding that silly donkey all poised to play second fiddle to the increasingly annoying Olga.
Fortunately, this time those fears prove unfounded and Vincent Price gets the chance for a proper outing as the arch-criminal, with Egghead this time taking the lead. And his plan is gloriously bonkers: steal some radium, steal a dinosaur egg, and get the egg to hatch into a live dinosaur which will, for some reason not quite clear, fall under the control of Egghead and Olga and in no way turn agaist them. That it seems to do so is the most predictable and obvious trope ever. This is all very silly.
Except this is the right kind of silly. This is high camp, not low camp and, unlike the previous episode, this instalment has plenty of fun at the expense of its own tropes. So yes, the dinosaur is an unconvincing man in the suit- but this is completely diegetic, and the man in the suit is Batman.
We also have O'Hara noting that poisoning the water supply is a "favourite trick of Gotham City's arch criminals". Meanwhile we have Alfred. holding two phones, giving the same information to Batman and Batgirl in a splendidly silly bit of slapstick. And Robin even gives the fourth wall a knock ("Why didn't we think of this before, Batman?") when the Dynamic Duo find a way of using technobabble to track down the baddies at a moment convenient to the plot.
This is much, much better, and enormous fun- and Barbara is a surfer? I didn't expect that!
Plugging Mrs Llamastrangler's YouTube channel
Any coin collectors among you, or just curious to hear the oft-mentioned Mrs Llamastrangler's dulcet Northumbrian tones? Here's my beloved's latest YouTube video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GP0PTGJHaEM&t=98s
Wednesday, 10 June 2020
Batman: The Ogg and I
"Yes, the aroma is unmistakeable."
Oh dear. Another episode wth far too much going on to have enough fun, I'm afraid; it's all plot, plot, plot, and although said plot is at times promisingly silly (Egghead wants a "tax" on all eggs eaten in Gotham City, while it's not clear what Olga wants aside from marrying both Egghead and Batman), there's nowhere near enough fun with the fourth wall. And this time we can't, this being the start of a two parter, blame the new format.
No; the problem is that we have two villains struggling for air time. Anne Baxter is superb, having previously played Zelda the Great early in the first season, but the character of Olga is a bit ill-defined. So she's a Cossack queen from some fictional Slavic country, she has an outrageous and broadly Russian accent and... that's it, and while Baxter is superb with the accent and her charisma, the character is far too vague. Worse, the return of the splendid Vincent Price as Egghead is diluted.
There are some good moments- I smiled as Egghead implored Olga to forget any eleborate trap and just kill the Caped Crusaders- but not enough to prevent this overly packed episode feeling like a slowly deflating balloon. And, yet again, there isn't even a cliffhanger.
I hope there's more of Egghead next time.
Oh dear. Another episode wth far too much going on to have enough fun, I'm afraid; it's all plot, plot, plot, and although said plot is at times promisingly silly (Egghead wants a "tax" on all eggs eaten in Gotham City, while it's not clear what Olga wants aside from marrying both Egghead and Batman), there's nowhere near enough fun with the fourth wall. And this time we can't, this being the start of a two parter, blame the new format.
No; the problem is that we have two villains struggling for air time. Anne Baxter is superb, having previously played Zelda the Great early in the first season, but the character of Olga is a bit ill-defined. So she's a Cossack queen from some fictional Slavic country, she has an outrageous and broadly Russian accent and... that's it, and while Baxter is superb with the accent and her charisma, the character is far too vague. Worse, the return of the splendid Vincent Price as Egghead is diluted.
There are some good moments- I smiled as Egghead implored Olga to forget any eleborate trap and just kill the Caped Crusaders- but not enough to prevent this overly packed episode feeling like a slowly deflating balloon. And, yet again, there isn't even a cliffhanger.
I hope there's more of Egghead next time.
Tuesday, 9 June 2020
Deadwood: Season 1, Episode 5- The Trial of Jack McCall
"Hickock breaks my balls from the afterlife..."
This is another multifaceted, complex gem of an episode as the people of the town walk past Wild Bill's body to pay their respects while a man stands around loudly trying to sell the severed head of a "heathen" Inevitably, this lawless community moves to try the killer, but the issues surrounding this are fascinating and fundamental. Meanwhile, so many characters get meaningful development.
Bullock is grumpy all episode, particularly with the ingratiating evangelism of the Reverend Smith- it seems that, like many quietly irreligious people in societes where outright atheism is frowned upon, this makes him very uncomfortable. Yet Smith himself is behaving strangely, and ends the episode with some kind of seizure. This is a man we know to have been traumatised by war- there are clearly depths to him.
E.B. shows signs of deep resentment towards Swearengen, and signs of an independent agenda. He's a man needing security for his declining years. Meanwhile Al is getting Trixie to manipulate the newly widowed Alma by replacing her addiction to laudanum with another substance as part of Al's getting her caim back. But she's leaving her agency in the literal hands of a man (not much feminism in 1876)- and, if the first meeting between her and Seth is anything to go by, a man she rather likes the look of. Future lovers, I wonder?
Meanwhile the relationship between Tolliver and mistress Joanie is shown to be complex- how loose is her leash? And she clearly has desires of a Sapphic nature. Tolliver, callously, has his sick old friend Andy dumped in the wilderness where he finds himself looked after by a drunk but nevertheless crudely kindly Calamity Jane, upset at the loss of her "best friend" who never judged her. This is all masterful character development.
But the trial is fascinating- and so is Al's word with the judge. Does this lawless community, wishing for eventual annexation by the United States, really want to look like a society with pretensions of its own legal system, a part of the infrastructure of a functioning state? Would this not be a provocation? And yet, what else can they do?
The killer is ultimately acquitted, and genly reminded to leave town pretty sharpish. But it seems, from coughng at Bill's funeral, that getting rid of Andy (not quite dead) may have brought a plague. How very topical.
This is superlative television.
This is another multifaceted, complex gem of an episode as the people of the town walk past Wild Bill's body to pay their respects while a man stands around loudly trying to sell the severed head of a "heathen" Inevitably, this lawless community moves to try the killer, but the issues surrounding this are fascinating and fundamental. Meanwhile, so many characters get meaningful development.
Bullock is grumpy all episode, particularly with the ingratiating evangelism of the Reverend Smith- it seems that, like many quietly irreligious people in societes where outright atheism is frowned upon, this makes him very uncomfortable. Yet Smith himself is behaving strangely, and ends the episode with some kind of seizure. This is a man we know to have been traumatised by war- there are clearly depths to him.
E.B. shows signs of deep resentment towards Swearengen, and signs of an independent agenda. He's a man needing security for his declining years. Meanwhile Al is getting Trixie to manipulate the newly widowed Alma by replacing her addiction to laudanum with another substance as part of Al's getting her caim back. But she's leaving her agency in the literal hands of a man (not much feminism in 1876)- and, if the first meeting between her and Seth is anything to go by, a man she rather likes the look of. Future lovers, I wonder?
Meanwhile the relationship between Tolliver and mistress Joanie is shown to be complex- how loose is her leash? And she clearly has desires of a Sapphic nature. Tolliver, callously, has his sick old friend Andy dumped in the wilderness where he finds himself looked after by a drunk but nevertheless crudely kindly Calamity Jane, upset at the loss of her "best friend" who never judged her. This is all masterful character development.
But the trial is fascinating- and so is Al's word with the judge. Does this lawless community, wishing for eventual annexation by the United States, really want to look like a society with pretensions of its own legal system, a part of the infrastructure of a functioning state? Would this not be a provocation? And yet, what else can they do?
The killer is ultimately acquitted, and genly reminded to leave town pretty sharpish. But it seems, from coughng at Bill's funeral, that getting rid of Andy (not quite dead) may have brought a plague. How very topical.
This is superlative television.
Monday, 8 June 2020
Batman; Louie, the Lilac
"The flower children think we're cool, man. Like we turn them on, you know?"
Double oh. I criticise the new fomat of mostly single episodes as making each episode too short and rushed to be any fun, and I get a second superb standalone episode in a row. This episode is utterly wonderful. Oh, the perennially unfunny Milton Berle is rubbish as the utterly pedestrian Louie the Lilac, but who cares a script as delightful and fun as this- and, yet again, a cast full of splendid actors of deadpan comedy, with newcomer Yvonne Craig defnitely among them? I don't even care that the way the episode plays out makes a nonsense of last episode's teaser.
Even better, of course, is that 1967 gets its much-needed proper hippie episode of Batman, something which could never have been done properly in any other year. So perhaps Louie's plan to corner the flower market, control the flower children and therefore control the leaders of the future while dispatching his enemies with incredibly slow acting carnivorous lilacs(!) makes absolutely zero sense, but that's intentional: this is Batman. Anyway, the real point is to look at the hippies, the way they look and the way they talk. Interestingly, this is still the Summer (well, Autumn) of Love, and everyone sees the hippies as well-meaning and harmless- desexualised, depoliticised and certainly, well, de-potified.
We're well past the point of pointing out diversions from a set episode structure at this point- the welcome addition of Batgirl has put paid to that. And seven episodes in I'm loving the character, her theme tune (we get a good blast of it towards the end, which is wonderful) and Yvonne Craig's perfecly pitched performance.
Egghead next. Good. Is this season going to continue to make its underwhelming first few episodes look like an aberration?
Double oh. I criticise the new fomat of mostly single episodes as making each episode too short and rushed to be any fun, and I get a second superb standalone episode in a row. This episode is utterly wonderful. Oh, the perennially unfunny Milton Berle is rubbish as the utterly pedestrian Louie the Lilac, but who cares a script as delightful and fun as this- and, yet again, a cast full of splendid actors of deadpan comedy, with newcomer Yvonne Craig defnitely among them? I don't even care that the way the episode plays out makes a nonsense of last episode's teaser.
Even better, of course, is that 1967 gets its much-needed proper hippie episode of Batman, something which could never have been done properly in any other year. So perhaps Louie's plan to corner the flower market, control the flower children and therefore control the leaders of the future while dispatching his enemies with incredibly slow acting carnivorous lilacs(!) makes absolutely zero sense, but that's intentional: this is Batman. Anyway, the real point is to look at the hippies, the way they look and the way they talk. Interestingly, this is still the Summer (well, Autumn) of Love, and everyone sees the hippies as well-meaning and harmless- desexualised, depoliticised and certainly, well, de-potified.
We're well past the point of pointing out diversions from a set episode structure at this point- the welcome addition of Batgirl has put paid to that. And seven episodes in I'm loving the character, her theme tune (we get a good blast of it towards the end, which is wonderful) and Yvonne Craig's perfecly pitched performance.
Egghead next. Good. Is this season going to continue to make its underwhelming first few episodes look like an aberration?
Sunday, 7 June 2020
Batman: The Unkindest Tut of All
"Luckily for us, she's an Egyptian bibliophile...
Oh. There I was, merrily criticising this season's poor start and diagnosing the single episodes as the cause, being far too rushed to demonstrate and of the high camp and winks at its own tropes that have always made Batman such a joy. So, naturally, the very next episode comes along and proves that it is indeed possible to squeeze lots and lots of high camp fun into twenty-four minutes.
It helps, of course, that Victor Buono is back as King Tut, this time posing as a soothsayer of crime as a successful plot to discover the location of the Batcave, and that Yvonne Craig, whether as Batgirl or Barbara Gordon, is showing herself to be every bit as good at deadpan, square humour as Adam West. But, essentially, the episode is a triumph because Stanley Ralph Ross' script simply sings.
Tut is back because he was "hit by a brick at a love in". There's a delightfully crowbarred-in reference to Alfie. Batman tries to ask Batgirl out on a date after she utters the sweet words "I was only doing my duty as a citizen". And many, many more, at last giving the whole regular cast some great material to work with so we can see yet again how well they deal with this kind of material.
So, yes- the new format can work. Let's have more episodes like this please.
Oh. There I was, merrily criticising this season's poor start and diagnosing the single episodes as the cause, being far too rushed to demonstrate and of the high camp and winks at its own tropes that have always made Batman such a joy. So, naturally, the very next episode comes along and proves that it is indeed possible to squeeze lots and lots of high camp fun into twenty-four minutes.
It helps, of course, that Victor Buono is back as King Tut, this time posing as a soothsayer of crime as a successful plot to discover the location of the Batcave, and that Yvonne Craig, whether as Batgirl or Barbara Gordon, is showing herself to be every bit as good at deadpan, square humour as Adam West. But, essentially, the episode is a triumph because Stanley Ralph Ross' script simply sings.
Tut is back because he was "hit by a brick at a love in". There's a delightfully crowbarred-in reference to Alfie. Batman tries to ask Batgirl out on a date after she utters the sweet words "I was only doing my duty as a citizen". And many, many more, at last giving the whole regular cast some great material to work with so we can see yet again how well they deal with this kind of material.
So, yes- the new format can work. Let's have more episodes like this please.
Coriolanus (National Theatre Live, 2014)
“I am known to be a humorous patrician, and one that loves a cup of hot
wine with not a drop of allaying water in it. One that converses more
with the buttock of the night than with the forehead of the morning."
I'm a Shakespeare geek, I suppose, but of his thirty-nine plays I have certainly neither read nor seen them all. So, having neither seen nor read Coriolanus, I'm caught between a first experience of the play- one extraordinary both in itself and in what it has to say in our sadly populist times, where militaristic demagoguery continues to plague us.
I can see why the play is not so popular and well-known as the Warwickshire lad's other late tragedies. It is austere, has a proud and abrasive protagonist who is not inclined to self-aware soliloquys, and assumes a knowledge of semi-mythical early republican Rome, in the 490s BC, where the last king has barely been deposed and where, with the first secession of the plebs, issus of class and war intertwine as the young city state conquers its neighbours.
One must surely imagine this play, with its emphasis on the people, the tribunes, the conflict between arrogant privilege and the popular will, would be much less resonant in early Jacobean times than it is today, where Coriolanus as a proud warrior and would-be tyrant evokes not so much the sadly delusional Trump as the much younger, leaner and more sanely arrogant Cummings. Tom Hiddleston is superb, succeeding in seeming authoritative and believable as a proud and reactionary soldier undone by hubris, his performance full of nice little touches, at limes leavening the tragic gloom with bitter humour. Mark Gatis is similrly superb as Menenius, the humour of his performance concealing dark depths. The sparse production, too, is a triumph, allowing the play itself to succeed by its words and performances. It's just a shame Birgitte Hjort Sorensen of Borgen has such a relatively small part.
Magnificent, both as a play and a performance. Not all tragedies have to be Hamlet, and there's a real power in letting the interior thoughts of the protagonist remain opaque. From Hiddleston I've never seen a finer performance.
I can see why the play is not so popular and well-known as the Warwickshire lad's other late tragedies. It is austere, has a proud and abrasive protagonist who is not inclined to self-aware soliloquys, and assumes a knowledge of semi-mythical early republican Rome, in the 490s BC, where the last king has barely been deposed and where, with the first secession of the plebs, issus of class and war intertwine as the young city state conquers its neighbours.
One must surely imagine this play, with its emphasis on the people, the tribunes, the conflict between arrogant privilege and the popular will, would be much less resonant in early Jacobean times than it is today, where Coriolanus as a proud warrior and would-be tyrant evokes not so much the sadly delusional Trump as the much younger, leaner and more sanely arrogant Cummings. Tom Hiddleston is superb, succeeding in seeming authoritative and believable as a proud and reactionary soldier undone by hubris, his performance full of nice little touches, at limes leavening the tragic gloom with bitter humour. Mark Gatis is similrly superb as Menenius, the humour of his performance concealing dark depths. The sparse production, too, is a triumph, allowing the play itself to succeed by its words and performances. It's just a shame Birgitte Hjort Sorensen of Borgen has such a relatively small part.
Magnificent, both as a play and a performance. Not all tragedies have to be Hamlet, and there's a real power in letting the interior thoughts of the protagonist remain opaque. From Hiddleston I've never seen a finer performance.
Friday, 5 June 2020
Godzilla vs Hedorah (1971)
"Come on, blow your mind!"
It's a new decade, a new creative team and, for the first time an entirely new cast- and it's a triumph, a film which has something to see and manages to be groovy while doing it.
The film doesn't so much have subtext as text, as Hedorah is the most blatant (and well-realised) metaphor for pollution imaginable. But that's no criticism; as the last half-century has shown, you can't be too blatant with the urgent message that we should please try and not bugger up our planet as a place to live on.
This film tells that story, based around the engaging supporting cast of a professor and his family with a groovy young couple whom we see at an awesome gig with visuals that remind me of early Hawkwind, never a bad thing. Not just that, but we get awesome animated segments, along with an opening sequence that comes across like a James Bond song. More of this please. It's about time these films acknowledged the counterculture.
There is, perhaps, a moment that's a little close to the bone in 2020, as Hedorah's air pollution forces the people of Tokyo and Osaka to wear masks in public. And perhaps the MacGuffin that helps Godzilla (unambiguously a goodie- and Monster Island seems forgotten) is a little obvious. But this is a promising new start and a fine film.
The film doesn't so much have subtext as text, as Hedorah is the most blatant (and well-realised) metaphor for pollution imaginable. But that's no criticism; as the last half-century has shown, you can't be too blatant with the urgent message that we should please try and not bugger up our planet as a place to live on.
This film tells that story, based around the engaging supporting cast of a professor and his family with a groovy young couple whom we see at an awesome gig with visuals that remind me of early Hawkwind, never a bad thing. Not just that, but we get awesome animated segments, along with an opening sequence that comes across like a James Bond song. More of this please. It's about time these films acknowledged the counterculture.
There is, perhaps, a moment that's a little close to the bone in 2020, as Hedorah's air pollution forces the people of Tokyo and Osaka to wear masks in public. And perhaps the MacGuffin that helps Godzilla (unambiguously a goodie- and Monster Island seems forgotten) is a little obvious. But this is a promising new start and a fine film.
Wednesday, 3 June 2020
Batman: A Horse of Another Colour
"I did a little extra-curricular crime detecting while Dick Grayson was doing his homework."
Well, that, if you forgive the lamentable lack of a cliffhanger, was rather splendid. In fact, suspiciously so. I'm now convinced that the problems we've seen this season can be laid entirely at the door of the decision to move largely to standalone single episodes. Not only, at a time when the budget has been cut, does it needlessly increase costs by demanding new costumes and sets each episode, but it takes away the main attraction of the show. Batman is awesome because of its high camp silliness, its deadpan riffs on the absurdities of its own tropes. There's not much time for all than in twenty-four minutes, but in two episodes there's penty. Because this two parter, while perhaps not quite being the best ever, has brought all the fun back again, made possible by having time to breathe.
Hence we get to enjoy Barbara Gordon being the ridiculously sensible and goody-goody librarian, and Penguin looking for a buyer for his stolen folio of parasols in the "Saturday Review of Parasols"- and failing yet again to notice "A.L. Fredd".We get some more priceless dialogue between Penguin and Lola. And we get the silliest horse race imaginable.It's all enormous fun.
But we end with a massive hint that the next (single) episode will feature the splendid King Tut- but will we have enough time in one episode to enjoy this fun character...?
Well, that, if you forgive the lamentable lack of a cliffhanger, was rather splendid. In fact, suspiciously so. I'm now convinced that the problems we've seen this season can be laid entirely at the door of the decision to move largely to standalone single episodes. Not only, at a time when the budget has been cut, does it needlessly increase costs by demanding new costumes and sets each episode, but it takes away the main attraction of the show. Batman is awesome because of its high camp silliness, its deadpan riffs on the absurdities of its own tropes. There's not much time for all than in twenty-four minutes, but in two episodes there's penty. Because this two parter, while perhaps not quite being the best ever, has brought all the fun back again, made possible by having time to breathe.
Hence we get to enjoy Barbara Gordon being the ridiculously sensible and goody-goody librarian, and Penguin looking for a buyer for his stolen folio of parasols in the "Saturday Review of Parasols"- and failing yet again to notice "A.L. Fredd".We get some more priceless dialogue between Penguin and Lola. And we get the silliest horse race imaginable.It's all enormous fun.
But we end with a massive hint that the next (single) episode will feature the splendid King Tut- but will we have enough time in one episode to enjoy this fun character...?
Tuesday, 2 June 2020
Deadwood: Season 1, Episode 4- Here Was a Man
“Can you let me go to Hell the way I want to?"
Wow. That was sudden, shocking and out of nowhere- but then so are most shots in the back. I know the real life Wild Bill Hickock was shot in this way soon after moving to Deadwood, but the season has consistently kept up the anticipation- wringing lots of pathos from Bill knowing this would happen but passively awiting his fate- while keeping us guessing as to when exactly the moment would arrive. Death, as ever, is unprdedictable. None of us know when our time will come, which are resonant words to be writing in the midst of a plague.
Obviously, Keith Carradine really shines here, but there's so much pathos in how sympathetic Bill is. He's kind to the (thankfully recovered) little girl, who clearly feels comfortable in his presence, always a sign of a nice character. He continues to develop a human connection with Seth, and behaves with integrity (I think) when Alma asks him to help, yet to almost everyone he's a gunslinging celebrity, not a human being- and his death has parallels to that of John Lennon. Most poignantly, as the whole town rounds on the killer, only Jane and Seth run to the body, genuinely sorrowful.
Other plot threads develop, too, as Al continues to show us what a superbly menacing yet nuanced character he is, a villain but a three dimensional one. There's a newcomer, an old friend of Cy Torrance, who is not at all well. Alma confesses to Jane that her marriage to Brom was an ordeal, with hints of aristocratic arranged marriages. Things continue to unfold. But the episode is about Wild Bill, and the fatalistic end to the melancholic life of a seemingly decent man. Superb telly.
Wow. That was sudden, shocking and out of nowhere- but then so are most shots in the back. I know the real life Wild Bill Hickock was shot in this way soon after moving to Deadwood, but the season has consistently kept up the anticipation- wringing lots of pathos from Bill knowing this would happen but passively awiting his fate- while keeping us guessing as to when exactly the moment would arrive. Death, as ever, is unprdedictable. None of us know when our time will come, which are resonant words to be writing in the midst of a plague.
Obviously, Keith Carradine really shines here, but there's so much pathos in how sympathetic Bill is. He's kind to the (thankfully recovered) little girl, who clearly feels comfortable in his presence, always a sign of a nice character. He continues to develop a human connection with Seth, and behaves with integrity (I think) when Alma asks him to help, yet to almost everyone he's a gunslinging celebrity, not a human being- and his death has parallels to that of John Lennon. Most poignantly, as the whole town rounds on the killer, only Jane and Seth run to the body, genuinely sorrowful.
Other plot threads develop, too, as Al continues to show us what a superbly menacing yet nuanced character he is, a villain but a three dimensional one. There's a newcomer, an old friend of Cy Torrance, who is not at all well. Alma confesses to Jane that her marriage to Brom was an ordeal, with hints of aristocratic arranged marriages. Things continue to unfold. But the episode is about Wild Bill, and the fatalistic end to the melancholic life of a seemingly decent man. Superb telly.
Monday, 1 June 2020
Batman: The Sport of Penguins
"I pray for the day when Gotham City is safe from that mocking mountebank."
Phew. This episode is much better, and holds out some hope for this third season after its wobby start- and it manages to do this while being centred around the theme of horse racing, the most boring subject imaginable.
I still have doubts about the new format, but the fact that this is a two parter (although the fact the show is now weekly sadly seems to mean no cliffhanger, which is silly and disappointing as they still try to tease us without one) makes the whole thing less rushed and allows some of the high camp silliness which is the whole point of this series- hence we get the Caped Crusaders' surreal and ridiculously random reasoning ("holy non-sequitors!) which lead them to the glue factory, and Penguin gets lines like "If it's that priceless, I can get a good price for it on the black market", and his haggling at the glue factory is hilarious.
It's also nice that he remembers Barbara jilting him at the altar (actual continuity!), and leaves a ticking trap for her- and I love Barbara's po-faced outrage at his attempted theft in the library. We also get the amusing Ethel Merman as Lola Lasagne, a fairly small time villain with a small time scheme, but an amusing one.
On a personal note, I'm glad these two parters are more loosely connected than before; from this week onwards my weekdays are even more insanely busy than before and a short episode of Batman is something I can hopefully blog where time is absurdly short, so I'll stick to one episode at a time unless things change- on other days, I'll continue to blog Deadwood with films, as usual, at the weekend. I want to keep this blog up; it's strangely relaxing for me after these long days.
Phew. This episode is much better, and holds out some hope for this third season after its wobby start- and it manages to do this while being centred around the theme of horse racing, the most boring subject imaginable.
I still have doubts about the new format, but the fact that this is a two parter (although the fact the show is now weekly sadly seems to mean no cliffhanger, which is silly and disappointing as they still try to tease us without one) makes the whole thing less rushed and allows some of the high camp silliness which is the whole point of this series- hence we get the Caped Crusaders' surreal and ridiculously random reasoning ("holy non-sequitors!) which lead them to the glue factory, and Penguin gets lines like "If it's that priceless, I can get a good price for it on the black market", and his haggling at the glue factory is hilarious.
It's also nice that he remembers Barbara jilting him at the altar (actual continuity!), and leaves a ticking trap for her- and I love Barbara's po-faced outrage at his attempted theft in the library. We also get the amusing Ethel Merman as Lola Lasagne, a fairly small time villain with a small time scheme, but an amusing one.
On a personal note, I'm glad these two parters are more loosely connected than before; from this week onwards my weekdays are even more insanely busy than before and a short episode of Batman is something I can hopefully blog where time is absurdly short, so I'll stick to one episode at a time unless things change- on other days, I'll continue to blog Deadwood with films, as usual, at the weekend. I want to keep this blog up; it's strangely relaxing for me after these long days.
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