WandaVision: All-New Halloween Spooktacular

 "Don't go past Ellis Avenue!"

It's clear by now that this is a phenomenal series, based around a superb central concept and oozing all the dramatic goodness out of each angle week by week so that each episode is better than the last. But never mind that: it's Halloween, so Vizh, Wanda and Pietro, for one week only, get to dress up in their proper costumes as Vizh, the Scarlet Witch and Quicksilver. Hooray!

Also, Pietro is quickly becoming my favourite laddish waster in television, in a very Nick Frost version of the character. And, if Tommy has his powers, does this mean Billy will be casting hexes?

But the plot continues to move in fascinating ways. Vizh has noticed that, in the fringes of town, people are ill-defined and can move less and less- and he sees one poor woman repetitiely performing the same action, Sisyphus-like, as a tear rolls down her cheek. It's a poignant contrast to Pietro's bro-like approval of his sister's handiwork in their heart to heart. And Vizh is spurred on to escape, especially as he comes across Agnes as, in a scene to give one the shivers, he frees her mind as he dis last episode with Norm- to be told that he's an Avenger, he's dead, and "No one leaves. Wanda won't even let us think about it."

Meanwhile, outside the literal Westview bubble, Director Hayward is proving to be such a dick that Monica, Jimmy Woo and Darcy are forced to leave and start their own gang- following which, interestingly, Darcy tells Monica that going through the barrier twice has altered her molecular chemistry. Please tell me she's going to get her Captain Marvel superpowers?

But the end is magnificent, as the Vision attempts to escape the bubbe despite the fact it means his death- of course, he explicitly said he never wanted to be resurrected in the first place. But Wanda expands the bubble to grab all of SWORD and turn them into a circus (ha!)- including a handcuffed Darcy, but not Monica, Jimmy or a Hayward who flees like a rat. Wow. I'm loving this.

Sapphire & Steel: Assignment 5- The Dinner Party, Part 4

 "You can't depend on servants at all these days..."

We get another fascinating episode in which the murder mystery plot is developed- Emma may, in 1930, have been having an affair with George, while Howard was blackmailing George, who had been embezzling from the company. And the structure is maintained with the ciffhanger being another death- in this case Howard, who hasd earlier come under suspicion, as seems to happen to the next to die.

Yet things are, of course, working on another level. Sapphire casts doubt on whether the dead are truly deceased. The secretary, in another room (and another time period) sees text on her screen about a fire at the house. And whatever presence is there almost makes Sapphire stab herself- and shoot Steel.

This is brilliant stuff. Yet it also finds time for little things like Steel not knowing which way to pass the port, or the difference between cynical womanising and love. And then there's the playing with murder mystery tropes, and the sly digs at the idle rich of the early twentieth century. This is quietly brilliant.

Vampyr (1932)

 "She must die..."

This is an odd film. It was made in 1932, some years into the sound era. It has music and sound effects, and even some dialogue. Yet it has the grammar of a silent film, which is most odd. It is visually a masterpiece, as one might expect of Carl Theodor Dreyer, yet its visual excellence is that of a silent film. 

It hints at Expressionism in several shots, while not really being an Expressionist film. It is most certainly European rather than Hollywood in feel. It is extraordinary to think that this little artistic throwback is a contemporary of the Universal horror films: it feels utterly unlike them.

I feel bad saying this of a film with such visual excellence, and which generates such an atmosphere... but it feels like style (and the style is truly very good indeed) over substance. The film is short, but feels interminably slow, and I say this as someone who is very much used to slo pacing and, indeed, the grammar of silent cinema. The acting is, well, irrelevant, as the camera tells the story while the cast is asked to do very little. This is a film that very much relies on ots dreamy visuals, and makes no concessions to the audience in terms of follwing the plot.

But there's no subtext beyond the usuall generic sexuality found intrinsically in the vampire as subject matter. This is an artistic film with no real artistic point to make and, given what it is, it can hardly fall back on populism. It's a gloriously made dud, perhaps, but nevertheless a dud.

WandaVision: On a Very Special Episode...

 "Just make her stop!"

Just when it seems WandaVision has peaked, it becomes clear it hasn't. After last episode departed from the format to give us an explanation, sort of, we now get another sitcom episode (it's the late '80s, with yet another theme tune), but with scenes of Monica, Darcy and Agent Woo outside of Westview. And, interestingly, the Vision is starting to notice the flimsiness of the fourth wall.

Outside of Westview we are gratdually seeing how Monica and Darcy make an awesome double act, and that Hayward may well just be a bit of a dick. But inside Westview the twins are growing up fast, and Vizh is beginning to notice things like the lack of other kids in Westview , how Agnes always seems to turn up with a solution at odd moments, how inconsistently time passes- and that the neighbours are all brainwashed, and suffering. We begin to see a rift developing between the supposed spouses. It feels like a pivotal episode, and it's utterly riveting.

And that's before we get to the final scene: Pietro is alive and well, and back! And they've recast him... with Evan Peters, who played the character in the X-Men movies. It's the perfect type of fourth wall-breaking way to cross over. This is simply inspired.

Sapphire & Steel: Assignment 5- The Dinner Party, Part 3

 "And then there were nine..."

And, with the third episide, things get even better. I'm loving the conscious Agatha Chrustie spoofing here- an isolated country house, suspiciously cut off from the outside world; yet another cliffhanger ending with a murder (Tony), intrigue as Sapphire reads suspicious behaviour in Tony's recent past, and Steel soing his very best Poirot impression in the most Agatha Christie setting possible- and in 1930, the time of peak Christie.

And yet the weirdness ramps up too. The collective amnesia seems to deepen, and it seems the house is on a ley line- and on the Summer Solstice too. And yet, as Sapphire explores, there seems to be something about the late George McDee at the root of it. He was working on a vaccine when he died (very topical), and he died just before unleashing a deadly virus or bacteria (the script has it both ways!) which would have destroyed humanity. This may be scientific nonsense, and in 2021 is comes across as more anti-vaxxer than was probably intended, but this is fascinating. I'm enormouly impressed with the writing here.

There's even an unusually fancy camera shot here, as we are drawn back through a linear tableau of all the "suspects". This serial becomes more and more impressive.

WandaVision: We Interrupt This Programme

"So you're saying the universe created a sitcom starring two Avengers?" 

Wow. Three episodes of teasingly and ingeniously bizarre fourth wall shattering weirdness made bloody good telly regardless, but it feels like such a satisfying rush to get so much of an explanation as to what's going on.

The first reveal is that Geraldine is in fact Monica Rambeau, complete with a couple of audio clips from Captain Marvel! Captain Monica Rambeau, no less, to remind us that (to my generation at least, it is she- not Carol Danvers, not Mar-Vell, not Billy Batson- is the real Captain Marvel. But here she is, in flashback, in Endgame, jus after Bruce Banner clicked his big green fingers into a world where five years have passed and her lovely mother Maria died five years ago.

Ever curiouser, Monica is sent on a mission to the New Jersey town of... Westview. And the town seems to have been erased from local memory, while there's a barrier around this mysterious town. This is wonderful stuff. And then we see Monica get inside, as a team of boffins (led by the rather awesome Darcy from the Thor films, a nicely female twist on the maverick scientist trope) discover the sitcom being broadcast... and so they see the three episodes we've already seen. And it's very clever indeed how different certain things look in context.

As Monica says at the ens, "It's Wanda". And Wanda, with her scarily powerful hexes, has everything under control. This is simply amazing.

Sapphire & Steel: Assignment 5- The Dinner Party, Part 2

 "I think his Lordship's taking this joke a bit too far, Greville, don't you think?"

In a departure from Sapphire & Steel tradition, an intriguing episode shows promise in developing a seemingly lacklustre first one. Suddenly I'm hooked, despite very little happening other than the appearance of two more guests. I'm not even bothered by the fact that the announcement of a game of sardines makes it perfecty obvious that poor Veronica is going to be killed while hidden. This seems to be getting good.

And I can't really say why; I think it's just that this episode succeeds more in leveraging the increasing confusion between 1980 and 1930, with everyone's memories getting increasingly foggy- until the sudden appearance of a very alive George McDee shocks everyone. It's an effectve scene.

Interestingly, too, and despite my not spotting it last episode, this story is written by someone other than P.J. Hammond- Anthony Reed and an uncredited Don Houghton, both well known to us Doctor Who fans. Suddenly, this serial has become rather interesting.

WandaVision: Now in Colour

 "Think you may have taken the hedge trimming too far there, old buddy!"

This is, on the one level, yet another episode of a retro comedy that is yet another deconstruction of an old-fashioned sitcom staple- in this case the pregnancy episode. Suddenly, while no one has aged and the supporting characters are the same people we're slowly getting to know, it's the '70s now- and a particularly exaggerated '70s where Geraldine has Pam Grier hair and the opening titles have gone all hilariously Brady Bunch.

And it works well, as comedy, on multiple levels. Yet the pretence that reality is slipping. There's a moment where Vision starts to work out the plot holes in his life so Wanda just rewinds things; this entire reality is clearly all here as wish fulfilment for her on some level.

And it is this that casts a disturbing light on Wanda's pregnancy and the birth of Billy and Tommy. I can't comment on any similarities with that '80s The Vision and the Scarlet Witch limited series (Bill Mantlo?), but I certainly remember what John Byrne would later do to the twins in the pages of West Coast Avengers. I fear for Wanda. Especially with what she seems to do to Geraldine (through a wormhole into what may be reality) when she blurts out that Wanda's brother Pietro was killed by Ultron.

I have thoughts about what may be going on. This is all a bit Life on Mars, but I suspect the resolution wont be simple. This is bloody good telly.

A Matter of Life and Death (1946)

 "Stupidity has saved many a mind from going mad."

This is certainly a contender for the finest film I've ever seen and although, at the time I blogged my first film in 2011 I felt myself slghtly uncultured when it came to cinema (if you grew up wearing hearing aids in an era of videotape, with no subtitles, reading books becomes a much lazier option) but I suspect I may have a broader perspective now, aged 44 in 2021. This may well be the film I currently believe to be the greatest ever made, flexible though such statements are. Ask me tomorrow.

What makes this film great isn't necessarily the superb direction by Powell and Pressburger- many films are well shot. Nor is it the charismatic performance from David Niven. It's impressive, but hardly the only excellent performance from a star that there ever was. It's well made, well acted, well-written and all the things one usually praises a film for. These things explain why it's good, but not why it's great.

No; what makes this possibly the greatest film ever made is... well, the wit, yes, but it's better than that. The opening line "Space. Big, isn't it?" seems to presage Douglas Adams in four words. The parallel between Peter's operation and his trial in the gloriously bureaucratic afterlife is exquisite and, in hindsight, much imitated. Kim Hunter is sexy. The use of poetry, and not just the usual F.R. Leavis-approved stuff, is glorious. One has to admire a film that, in 1946 and at the height of Sir Walter Scott's unfashionability, slips him in among the Marvells and a nicely obscure work from Ralegh.

The dialogue is lierature. The people are real. This is the greatest film ever made. Possibly.

The Vampire Bat (1933)

 “You give me apple. Herman give you nice soft bat."

These '30s horror films, by no means all of them Universal, are certainly something to be enjoyed. Not all  of them, alas, can be directed by James Whale. Yet this one is, as the amusingly hypochondriac maid in the film keeps saying, rubbish.

On paper it should at least be fun, if not necessarily good. Fay Wray is the leading lady, albeit in an underwritten role. Yet Dwight Frye, such a cult favourite that Alice Cooper wrote a rather good ballad about him, gets a nice and juicy part which shows how stereoyped he has become as the Renfield figure, but he's bloody good at it. He's the best thing in the film.

And yet... Lionel Attwill and Melvyn Douglas give passable performances, but the burgomeister is shocking. And, while there is some good visual stuff, the film is sloooow and dull, with appallingly functional dialogue. I suppose it's a plus to focus on vampire bats from South Ameirca somehw biting people here in central Europe and turning them into vampire-like people, but the resolution at the end is silly.

And so is the film as a whole, worth seeing only for the sake of the lovely Fay Wray and the splendid Dwight Frye. Not all of these '30s horror films, alas, are any good.

Sapphire & Steel: Assignment 5- The Dinner Party, Part 1

 "Why did it choose this house?"

The penultimate assignment begins: there's only so much left of Sapphire & Steel. On first glance this story appears to be some sort of metaphor on the dangers of excessive nostagia and the dangers of dwelling overly on the past. This is an interesting observation to make while discussing a forty year old television programme from a time, shockingly, when 1930 was fifty years ago and very much in living memory.

So far we have a dinner party held by self-important tycoon Lord Mullrine, who seems determined ti make everything as much like 1930 as possible. Yet it seems time is taking the hint and, in places, making this literal. There are a couple of nice and subtle illustrations of this, with the radio and the green door, but so far these light hints are all we're getting, as we spend the first episode getting to know the various guests. The posh dinner setting, the country house and the sort of 1930 setting feels a bit like an Aldous Huxley novel.

It's certainly an intriguing start, but thus far there are few truly new ideas. We shall see.

WandaVision: Don't Touch That Dial

 "Are you using your night vision, Vision?"

For a second wek in a row we get a genuinely funny piece of retro comedy... bt it's becoming more obvious that none of this is actually reality, and that it may represent a world that Wanda has retreated into in order to avoid an unpleasant reality.

The comedy is similar to last time, and represents more of '50s suburbia, and we're introduced to more of Wanda and Vizh's neighbours as they try to fit in. The comedy is great, with a stage magic act going all Tommy Cooper in entertaining fashion. Emma Caulfield from Buffy has a great part, too.

And yet... things from the real world are blending in. For the second episode in a week we get a mock advert- this time not Stark Industries but Strucker. And there's a scary moment at the end where the menacing noises from the start seem to be caused by a bloke in a hazmat suit emerging from a manhole... until Wanda seems to panic and alter reality. Hmm.

And Wanda is, impossibly, pregnant. Tommy and Billy, from that '80s Bill Mantlo limited series? Leading potentially to... well, what John Byrne went on to do in West Coast Avengers?

Regardless, this is magnificently original, brave and superb telly.

Sapphire & Steel: Assignment Four- The Man without a Face, Part 4

 "A few cheap tricks to impress the ladies!"

"Well, at least he bothered to impress them..."

And so the serial ends; there are a few fantastical leaps of logic, but the concept makes this appropriate, and it's a satisfactory conclusion. The faceless baddie even gets a final monologue intended to scare us, P.J. Hammond-style, as the evil spirit is trapped in a container until the day it is released. It's episodes like this that remind you that Sapphire & Steel is really horror fairytale fantasy with scientific trappings. It's about exorcists and evil spirits.

The stuff about how Williamson's trickery summoning the spitit makes little sense, but it doesn't have to. It works, odd though it is in 2021 to see such a focus on analogue photography. The whole episode drips with atmosphere and dread, yet there's time for a heartbreaking couple of lines from Liz where she realises her lot in life will never improve. 

This is the best conclusion so far, and easily the best serial. Let's hope the high standards continue.

WandaVision: Filmed Before a Live Studio Audience

 "Oh, what kind of housewife would I be if I didn't have a gourmet meal for four just lying about the place?"

Yes, I know: I have loads more of the Netflix Marvel series to do (although apparently Kevin Feige has de-canonised them and there is bad blood), and I will do so, but the new stuff on Disney Plus is extremely zeitgeisty, so I'll do that firs. And WandaVision is a brilliantly brave and creative choice to be the first Marvel series on Disney's own streaming service- weird, genre-busting, metatextual and wonderful.

On the surface, this is an I Love Lucy-style '50s American sitcom episode, set in '50s middle American suburbia, in black and while, with the Vision doing an undefined (and lampshaded as such) job while Wanda stays at home as exactly the sort of housewife Betty Friedan was talking about. We even have a standard retro sitcom plot in that the boss is coming to dinner.

The comedy really works, especialy with the addition of Wanda's magical powers and Vizh being a synthetic being capable of phasing through matter. It's a fun, if short, half hour. Yet already there are hints in the background of something very odd. The titular couple can't remember anything about their pasts when pressed. Lots of detail about their lives are hazy. It's all quite deliberately made so as not to feel quite real.

So far I think it's all in Wanda's head, the grief of someone with hex powers. But we'll see...

TRON: Legacy (2010)

 "Life has a way of moving you past wants and hopes.

TRON is not, on its merits, a particularly good film. It just benefits from the early Cyberpunk zeitgeist, released two years before William Gibson published Neuromancer. The film caught a wave, and gained a reputation beyond what it deserved, aesthetics aside.

And now we have a sequel. And, despite Jeff Bridges being superb; despite an impressive performance from Olivia Wilde;despire a nice little part for the great Michael Sheen... the film really is utter pants.

Partly, I suspect, it's the dull cinemtography and sleepily blue colour palette, that does the film no favours. But the script isworkmanlike and predictable and, moreover, the Cybrpunk themes just don't have the futitistic resonance in 2010 as they did in 1982. The entirety of not only the aesthetics but the concepts look both retro and quaint. It so doesn't work, however much Michael Sheen may evoke Ziggy era David Bowie in his scene-stealing appearances which certainly manage to liven up a dull film somewhat.

The narrative is fairly exciting, and I'm left suspecting that the workmanlike script, while not setting the world on fire, may have led to a significantly better film if the visual style for this sequel were not so tired and derivative.

A poor and disappointing sequel, but then again a late sequel to a film so very much of its time was always going to be a doubtful proposition.

Friday the 13th: The New Blood (1988)

  "OK, you big hunk of a man. Come and get me!"

I've reached the seventh film on eight years. The pace at which I'm watching the Friday the 13th film is a bit of a blatant clue in how bored I've been with them- although the fourth on was nicely metatextual.

Perhaps part of the problem is that ever since Scream, and certainly with The Cabin in the Woods, we've thought of the slasher genre (and it is a very trope-driven genre) in a very fourth wall-breaking way- sex means death; drugs mean death; nerdiness means death; going out in the dark means death... and that's all just literally from this film.

Halloween wasn't the first slasher film, as late as 1980. Psycho and Black Christmas were predecessors, and so the first Friday the 13th film turned up and proved to be a fairly perfunctory recital of previously established tropes. The sixth film stands out for the fact that it does as much violence to the fourth wall as to the characters, but the franchise is mostly meh.

And yet... this film cheerily announces its cheesiness with the voiceover during the opening recap. The conceit is that Tina, a telekinetic teen a la Poltergeist, has resurrected Jason through her passionate guilt at killing her father (who hit her mother and was thus irredeemable scum) and the shifty doctor who is "treating" her. There are no stars, as one woid expect for the seventh film in the franchise, but Tina's mum is Susan Blu- Arcee from Transformers: The Movie.

This film doesn't pretend to be anythng more than a B movie. But it's a sound, an fun, example of ts genre, far more so than it's firsr five predecessors. Even the writing is hack-like but solid. This is ctualky, and by far, my second favourite film after the sixth. However, I must confess that I have just imbibed a splendid bottle of classy Rioja.

Sapphire & Steel: Assignment Four- The Man without a Face, Part 3

 "Perhaps you could tell them that. When you join them..."

This third episode may echo earlier stories, very much indicating that P.J. Hammond is a writer who ery much likes his favourite tropes. The old-fashioned rhymes made to feel creepy. The prospect of being trapped in an image. Yet it all feels fresh, and this episode adds a lot of tension in advance of the conclusion.

A surprising amount happens here. The faceless man has a civil but creepily threatening parley with Sapphire and Steel, toying with them as a cat toys with a spider. We learn that Liz's old landlord, as well as her friend Ruth, have been trapped in a photograph from the 1890s. And Liz finally gets to understand the true nature of those creepy children. We learn a bit more, if nothing concrete, about what is going on. And it'sll rather nostalgic to see scares that reflect the anxieties of pre-digital technology.

This is superb, and the cliffhanger- the faceless man sets fire to a photo with two people trapped in it, one of them conscious- is uniquely horrifying.

The Mandalorian: Chapter 16- The Rescue

 "You are not a Mandalorian."

"Never said I was."

SPOILERS ABOUND. You have been warned! 

This is the perfect finale, and would have been so even without the fanwank, which itself was nonetheless the cherry on the cake. 

The character of Dr Pershing is used, at the start, to up the ante by blatantly foreshadowing the entire platoon of droid Dark Troopers (whom we have seen before) that await our heroes as they plan their assault on Moff Gideon's "light" Imperial Star Destroyer. There's some nice character stuff as a baddie goads the good Marshal about being on the Death Star when the Grand Moff Tarkin destroyed Alderaan. This is the sort of little touch during an action-packed finale that shows real quality.

Bo-Katan and her sidekick are tagging along for the Darksabre- with a little light racism aimed at Boba Fett for being a clone along the way. But the assault goes to plan... until Mando unexpectedly comes across the Machiavellian Moff Gideon, in a superb performance from Giancarlo Esposito. He has three aces up his sleeve. He's got what he wanted out of Grogu; there are hordes of Dark Troopers about to attack against whom they have no hope; and, in defeating Gid and unwttingly claiming the Darksabre, he is forcing Bo-Katan to fight and kill him for it in order to regain the throne of Mandalore, because it's not the sabre that matters, it's the "story". I love this. Perfect plotting.

And then the mysterious Jedi arrives, slicing through the Dark Troopers with his green lightsabre, although interestingly only through screens within screens. This turns out to be highly appropriate when said figure turns out to be a CGI Luke Skywalker, with Mark Hamill's face rejuvenated by a cheaper version of the process used for Samuel L. Jackson in Captain Marvel. The parting betwen Mando and little Grogu is heartbreaking, as he removes his helmet(!) and allows his baby to touch his face. He's a proper dad.

This is magnificent stuff, even before we get to the post-credits teaser for Boba Fett's forthcoming series, as he and the uber-cool Fennec Shand enter Jabba's old palace, kill Bib Fortuna (my first ever Kenner figure back in '83) ad take over.

This is simply superlative telly.

The Mandalorian: Chapter 15- The Believer

" I never saw your face..."

The penultimare episode... and it's a superbly taut and brilliantly made action thriller in which our heroes brave all sorts of dangers order to find out the location of Grogu next season. Boba Fett and Fennec Shand are now confirmed members of Mando's gang alongside Cara Dune- and our old friend Mayfeld is sprung in order to get inside the Imperial base. It's a nicely rich mix of people with some excellent characterisation on display.

The opening scene, with its CGI-enhanced depiction of a New Republic prison, is amazing. So is Boba Fett's ship Slave-1 (friends of mine had the Kenner toy of this when I was a nipper), which appears rather a lot though the magic of CGI. There's some awesome action with some pirates. There are tense scenes with a total bastard of an Imprerial officer.

But the episode focuses around a fascinating conversation between Mando and Mayfeld in which the later points out that Mando is happy to bend the rules about removing his helmet when something he cares about is at stake- over the course of two seasons we've seen the grizzled, taciturn bounty hunter turn into a devoted father. We see him first bend then break this rule, a rule that means a lot to him. For such an undemonstrative man this shows us that Mando cares a lot for this kid.

And so we see at the end, as Mando sends a threatening message to Moff Gideon. This is simply superb telly.

Sapphire & Steel: Assignment Four- The Man without a Face, Part 2

 "It's like a cupboard that's been shut for two hundred years..."

Second episodes, by their very nature, are unlikely to be as crammed with awesome ideas as first episodes. It is to be expected. Yet the amount of creativity here is impressive. The faceless man is able to make a face appear where needed. And, of course, we begin to understand the nature of the phenomenon after Sapphire turns back time a bit: "I can only borrow time", she says. "I can't keep it."

Brilliantly, the suggesrion is that something got into the very first photograph in the 1820s and is somewhere within every photograph- either partly seen or completely hidden. This is an ingenious and very P.J. Hammond concept.

What isn't very P.J. Hammond at all is a character like Liz, very demotic, earthy and normal and a nice contrast in a very conceptual series like this. 

So far this is holding my attention and enthralling me, and we are already halfway through.

The Mandalorian: Chapter 14- The Tragedy

 "They're back. The empire. They're back."

It's all go in this very eventful episode: Grogu goes to do that magic Jedi thing on the planet Tython but, awkwardly, Mando is attacked at the worst possible moment by a not dead Fennec (the ageless Ming-Na Wen) and... a hooded Boba Fett. Who claims that Mando's Beskar is his armour. Oh dear.

All this is a side-show, of course, to the clever bit of misdirection with stormtroopers from a more than normally moustache-twirling Moff Gideon who, finally, manages to nab cute little Grogu, who now faces an immediate future as a "donor". Brr. And those "Dark Troopers" are cool.

Yet there's another big reveal going on- Mando's armour is indeed his, and Mando eventually accepts that: honour succeeds where battle failed. It's a nice touch, that the esteemed Mr Fett agrees to help return the child as a quid pro quo. We also get a nifty bit of subtle retconning: Jango Fett was a foundling. This is the Way.

The script from the dependable Favreau, the direction from the Hollywood guest helmer, the performances, the whole damn thing... it's excellent. I'm loving this.

Sapphire & Steel: Assignment Four- The Man without a Face, Part 1

 "Would you like to play with these children? Shall I bring them?"

Wow. I've criticised Sapphire & Steel in the past for its glacial and plodding pace, which goes way beyond the generally slower pace of television drama circa 1980 into some very poor sttucturing. Yet the ideas have always been awesome to the point of genius, and it's clear that the programme could have been great if P.J. Hammond as the ideas man had had an experienced writer as a collaborator- a Gerry Davis to his Kit Pedler, if you will. 

That said, it must be said that this episode can't be faulted on pace, although perhaps first episodes generally don't, precisely because of their place in the narrative. I know that Hammond, like Steven Moffat, has his favoured tropes- and both Assignment One and, indeed, Hammond-penned episodes of Torchwood have shown his fascination woth individuals within images coming to life. Yet the opening teaser of Edwardian(?) children stealing other children from old photograths to play with is eerily effective, however much the nursery rhyme treads old ground.

The cool stuff then keeps coming thick and fast. An old pawn shop is full of memories, which Steel calls "triggers". Time breaking through again. A distinction between "specialists" and "operatives" like Steel (and implicitly Sapphire, with "specialists" being the likes of Silver?) and some amusingly banal-sounding workplace whingeing.

And then, suddenly, we get a real person, a young woman, who speaks of ghosts, a missing friend and a mysterious new landlord. And then we see- he's the pied piper for all these kids. And his face is just blank.

This is amazing. More please. And please, please, please stay this good.

Men in Black II (2002)

"Anyone could take over the place with the right set of mammary glands..."

I was lukewarm about the first film. This is MUCH better, and a rare example of a sequel that's better, despite the cameo from that disgusting paedo Michael Jackson.The critics are wrong- this film sizzles in a way the first didn't. It's also one of the last Hollywood sequels to use Roman numerals. Grr.

It's the same director. Will Smith and Tommy Lee Jones (in that order this time) are just as superb, and Rosario Dawson no less so. It looks much the same, although with much more CGI. Admittedly it benefits from a world already built.

Yet the comedy is much better written. Smith and Jones get to actually be the splendid comedy double act that they are. There's a sense of peril. The plot is much more coherent, and links hilariously to a simulated 1970s documentary with retro special effects.

The concepts are delicious- a locker containing an entire culture. A CGI Venus flytrap princess. A post office in rural Massachusetts staffed entirely by aliens just to provide a sinecure... and yes, it is indeed joyous to see Kay get his memory back.

This film is so very underrated. It deserves so much more love. It's just that you have to watch the first film first.

Rear Window (1954)

 "We've become a race of Peeping Toms."

I last saw this film a scary number of years ago, and can't remember what I thought, although I seem to recall liking it. And yet... this is one of those films that is easy to admire but hard to love.

It's not that this isn't a masterpiece. The very concept is inspired- the claustrophobia and boredom of beng stuck in a two room apartment leads Jeff (a too old but neertheless excellent Jimmy Stewart) to spend his time spying on his neighbours, until he thinks he's witnessed a murder.

And there is such mastery in how the visuals are handled, from the design of the neighbourhood (deliberately complex, three-dimensional and amost Escher-like) to the moment where Thorwald eventually meets Jeff's gaze, and the tension that follows. The future Princes Grace of Monaco is superb, as is good old Hollywood stalwart Thelma Ritter. There's a rather nice theme running throughout of marital harmony or its absence.

And yet... it takes ages to get going and, clever though it is ad as charismatic as its stars may be, the film is just too slow for most of its length for the suspens to realy work: the concept ad execution don't really maage to fill the film's length.

Still, none of that takes away from the fact that this film is a super technical achievement.

The Mandalorian: Chapter 13- The Jedi

 "He's formed a strong attachment to you."

Yeah, this is a bit good. My mind is blown.

We know from the start that Mando is on Corvus to find a Jedi to train Baby Yoda- or Grogu, as we now learn his name is. And, excitingly, we see said Jedi- Ahsoka Tano, played by Rosario Dawson from the various Netflix Marvel series- in the first scene, as she heroically pits herself against an evil local dictator who twirls her, er, moustache rather nicely. It's an interesting choice not to hold back this moment, but it sets the scene nicely.

We then get an episode which is awesome for several reasons. Ahsoka is, of course, coolness itself with those awesome lightsabres. The basic plot of Ahsoka and Mando teaming up and defeating the Magistrate is awesome, as is the lightly humorous relationship between them as they both see the irony in a Mandalorian and a Jedi, ancient enemies, working together.

There's a mind-blowing moment, though, as it's revealed that the Magistrate's "master" is one Grand Admiral Thrawn. I'm not at all familiar with Star Wars media outside this, the films, the Kenner toys of my '80s childhood and those two '80s Ewoks TV films, but I did read a novel by Timothy Zahn back in the early '90s- wasn't Grand Admiral Thrawn the baddie? But surely this novel can't be canon now the recent trilogy at the pictures has contradicted it?

 There's more geekiness, too, as Ahsoka examines Grogu, confirms his past- a survivor of the massacre at the Jedi temple on Coruscant in Revenge of the Sith- and, fulfilling a Jedi trope, refuses to train him as he's too full of fear and anger. I'm sure we all saw this coming- but there's hope in the shape of a magic mountain on yet another world...

The script here (not Favreau) is perhaps a little less polished than usual, but there's just so much cool stuff going on. I'm loving this.

The Oresteia: The Eumenides (Peter Hall , 1983)

 "They're learning to bless, groping for goodness."

The final instalment of The Oresteia is, of course, what gives it its thematic power: the cycle of endless power can only be broken by justice, by the rational weighing of evidence rather than hot-headed revenge, an eye for an eye until everyone is blind. There's a lot of weight to a literary work so old as this which seems to articulate, and with such exquisite prose, such a fundamental tenet of civilisation- although, perhaps, we should try not to dwell too hard on the misogyny on display here, especially the belief that patricide trumps matricide because he father is "the only true parent"and mothers do not pass on anything, only acting as the vessel. This may have been widely believed, or so we're told, but presumably by those who happen never to have noticed the extremely common phenomenon of children who resemble their mother.

Still, this is a superlative translation, a superlative score, and a superlative production, for all the reasons previously mentioned. This time we get to dwell on Tony Harrison's depiction and descriptions of the main Greek gods, and it's amazing.

It's hard to see how any other production of this trilogy can match this one. The authentic style and Harrison's gloriously earthy translation combine to make something intoxicating.

The Mandalorian: Chapter 12- The Siege

"I lost everyone." 

The Mandalorian just keeps getting better. This episode has everything: action, humour, strong characters whom by now we've come to know well, and hints at even more stuff going on arc-wise.

At first it looks as though this is going to be another story of the week as Mando has to stay on Nevarro while his ship is repaired, so we can see how Cara Dune (now the sheriff of this frontier town) and Greef Karga (the mayor) are getting on and Mando has to join them in a mission to fill out the episode. I wouldn't have objected much- the mission is cool, to one remaining Imperial base left on the planet, with lots of action and lots of humour, including Baby Yoda using the Force to steal some sweets from another kid. Nevertheless, it seems at first as though all this is a story of the week in order to kill time entertainingly before we visit the Jedi mentioned last episode.

Except there's a lot more going on than that as the base is more than it seems. Mando discovers that rumours of Moff Gideon's death have been much exaggerated, and we uncover the fact that Baby Yoda's blood was being used in some bizarre blood transfusion experiments. These are big revelations, and there's also a subtle undercurrent of the New Republic trying to push their authority a little closer to the Outer Rim frontier- this Space Western is almost starting to echo Deadwood at times.

The final revelation, though, is that Cara is from Alderaan. Everything and everyone she knew is gone, which seems partly to explain how she has become what she is. Ouch. This is such good telly.

And yes, I blogged a Star Wars related post on May the 4th. Yay me.

The Oresteia: The Libation Bearers (Peter Hall, 1983)

 "Bloodshed for bloodshed, keeping the blades red..."

And so Peter Hall's version of Tony Harrison's translation of the Oresteia trilogy continues, in similar vein, with masked actors who would have been bloody terrifying to any children watching. It is, of course, no less sublime than the first part.

The Libation Bearers is quite simple plot-wise: Orestes returns to plot with Electra, and gets into the palace by deceit where he promptly offs Aegisthus and then his mother, and the Furies are a bit miffed. That's it. It's basically Hamlet with added matricide and much less faffing about although, of course, in the case of Hamlet the whole point is the faffing about.Yet as ever it's not so much the plot as the philosophical and imagery-strewn verse that is the point, again translated by Harrison in a way that evokes, to me, nothing so much as Seamus Heaney's translation of Beowulf.

Once again the use of masks anonymises the actors, erasing their role and drawing our attention to the verse alone. Birtwistle's score, too, underlines the rhythm of much of the metre, to magnificent effect but utterly unlike any theatre I've ever experienced before. It's a profounly rich experience in so many ways.

I'm excited for the last play but I'll return to The Mandalorian tomorrow.

The Oresteia: Agamemnon (Peter Hall, 1983)

 "I'm no more a breaker of bed-bond than, as a woman, I wield a man's weapon..."

I did The Oresteia at University... some twenty years ago. Watching this first instalment of the trilogy- Peter Hall, for the National Theatre, in 1983, now happily available with subtitles on YouTube- I'm reminded how little I remember of the details, alhough this is a very different translation from what we used in the module I studied, covering ancient Greek drama in translations for we English students as offered by the Classics Department.

This production is the first in a trilogy that I will be alternating with The Mandalorian before returning to Sapphire & Steel. It's an extraordinary production. For a start, it's made by a supergroup of culture as it existed in 1983. Aeschylus' words are translated by the superlative poet Tony Harrison, a working class lad from Leeds who managed to get the Classical education he needed to insulge his natural poetic talent as possibly the finest poet this country produced in the last quarter of the twentieth century. It's directed by Peter Hall. And the soundscape is by Harrison Birtwistle, the greatest British composer of the twentieth century and a man whose delightfully atonal compositions never trouble the Daily Mail reading acolytes of Classical FM.

The result of this is a fusion of the very ancient and very modern which fuses magnificently. On the one hand it's a brutally authentic production of Aescyhlus' play, from the very alien culture that is the Athens of the 4th century BC. The all-male actors- John Normington excels as Cassandra- and the masks worn by all players transport us back to Athens in its Golden Age and how theatre was done in those distant and murky days, by people we cannot understand. The masks, in particular, make me glad for the subtitles.

Yet the words are poetry you can get drunk on. I know little of poetic style in ancient Greece, but Tony Harrison's translation, with its kennings and alliteration, calls to mind the warlike muscularity of Old English poetry, and mixes cultural allusions with the demotic and, indeed, the earthy.

The masks, and the rigidity of the metre, are perfectly ec hoed by Birtwistle's unremittingly atonal score which, alongside Harrison's words, fuse ancient and modern with profound effect.

It's striking, perhaps, how much of this play is taken up with philosophical and actually quite rich philosophical discourse about Troy and about the costs, and pointlessness, of war, before stuff actually happens and Clytemnestra- offstage- does the bloody deed and avenges poor Iphygenia. As a father of a perfect daughter, I side with her.

This is exquisite. And more is to come...

 

Twins of Evil (1971)

 "They have crosses? And stakes? And axes?"

I've seen a fair few Hammer horrors in my time, and some of them are very good indeed, while others are less so. This one is easily the best I've seen thus far, and by some distance.

On the surface it's an obvious crowd pleaser. There are the two rather attractive twins themselves to offer a bit of soft porn with titties briefly on display. Both actresses are decent, but mainly there for their sexiness, which is considerable. Mmm. But it's also a bloody well made and splendidly scripted horror film, gripping throughout, and with possibly Peter Cushing's best and most nuanced performance.

And yet, while pushing all the buttons to appeal as a bit of top notch early '70s vaguely titillating horror fun, it's acrually a lot cleverer than that under the surface. The twins Maria and Frieda are good and evil  respectively, yet the society they live in is less clear cut. There are two equally evil villains. The first, Count Karnstein, is an obvious baddie, a bored and decadent aristocrat who becomes a vampire (from a fanous ancestor we recognise from the prequel!) for fun. Damien Thomas, an actor so often underused, makes a superb villain.

Yet no less evil is Gustav Veil, a man who leads a gang of witch hunters who persecute any woman who shows and degree of independence and burns her alive without due process and the maximum of cant. They perform at being religious, and no doubt believe themselves to be so, but their religiosity is shallow, authoritarian and  no less evil in its murderous fanaticism. This is made clear in the opening scene, and the fact that the opening titles run over the sight of a woman being burned alive. Yet Cushing plays him superbly, as a villain driven to evl by his fanatcism and reaising to his horror that he is not the good man he believes himself to be but an unwitting servant of Satan.

It is therefore appropriate that Veil should die fighting the Count and that the baddie should die instead at the hands of Anton, a decent, questioning sceptic who is not blinded by fanaticism- a moderate, a liberal, a centrist dad. Good man. 

Karnstein and Veil would probably vote Tory this coming Thursday if they happened to live in Leicestershire. I'm sure Anton would vote Lib Dem. Be like Anton.

One Million Years B.C. (1966)

"Their laws are simple: the strong take everything."

Tonight I have learned a valuable lesson. A film may have great special effects, by no less a creator than the great Ray Harryhausen himself, showing his usual genius even within the consraints of what is clearly a lower budget than he's used to... and still be a terrible film. If you want Ray Harryhausen, watch The Valley of Gwangi. It's a much better film, and has cowboys in it to boot.

There are some awesome monsters in here- a family of pterosaurs; a giant tortoise, a saurapod, a tyrannosaurus and a triceratops being the highlights.They all interact with humans, so... yes, let's gloss over the histotical accuracy and move on to briefy praise the location filming. I suppose there's also amusement value at the start as we see Robert Brown, a future M to Roger Moore's James Bond, as a Palaeolithic chieftain. But that's literally all the positives.

Because this is an awful film. Other than some cringeworthy narration at the start there's no dialogue. The plot consist of M's son beng banished, encountering various monsters, joining another tribe where Raquel Welch's character likes him for some reason, being banished again, fighting more monsters at the end, and finishing off with a bit of natural disaster action. There's a lot of visual spectacle. The film looks good.

And yet... it's just dull. Without dialogue, it simply isn't possible for any of the characters to be interesting, or for us to care about them. And without charactesr to care about we have nothing to watch but empty spectacle.