The Gathering Storm

 "He promised to cut down to three bottles of champagne in the evening."

It's good to see this again, twenty-three years after I saw it first being broadcast. This TV film is an exemplar of something that exists, yes, as a nice little historical drama, but primarily as the vehicle for an actor to show us a real, incredible tour de force in a truly seminal role. For here, Albert Finney simply is Winston Churchill, in all the nuances of that very complicated human being. We often speak, when actors play real historical figures of whom footage exists, of the distinction between acting and impression. But here... well, the distinction simply doesn't exist. It's a truly extraordinary performance from a first rate actor.

The script, of course, deserves credit too, for this is Churchill- blinkered, irascible, deeply emotional, loving, exasperating. His views are nicely shown- of course, history remembers him for being very, very right about the most important thing- the urgent necessity of utterly crushing Nazism without mercy. But the script doesn't shy away from other things, such as his strong support of British rule over India, often using problematic language. Nuance, again. Yet, despite his flaws... he can't help but inspire loyalty and affection, something shown very well here.

The narrative is nicely done, beginning with Winston's career in the doldrums and ending with him being First Lord again, although much of this is due to Ralph and his deep sacrifice. But there's more- how he was so problematic yet loving as a husband and father. As a salutary reminder that one can, and bloody well should, have absolutely no truck with any of this "fourteen units of alcohol a week" nonsense.

And with that... I'm posting this and uncorking the wine. Happy Friday.

Woman of Stone

 "They come to punish..."

Mark Gatiss' annual Ghost Stories for Christmas are, it seems, quite firmly an annual fixture now, something which pleases me very much. This year we have an adaptation of E. Nesbit's Man-Size in Marble; it seems that, aside from her more well-known children's stories such as The Railway Children and Five Children and It, she was also wont to write the odd ghost story for her fellow adults.

Delightfully, the episode is book-ended by two rather witty little metatextual sequences with Celia Imrie as E. Nisbit herself, on her deathbed, telling the story to her doctor ad cheerfully chain-smoking as the lung cancer goes through the final stages of killing her- in themselves these scenres are at once a grim memento mori and a cheerful reminder that the only response to mortality is to live life to the full.

And yet this tale isdark. A newleywed couple, newly married, and all sorts of subtle indications of domestic abuse- the physical kind, yes, but also the cotrolling behaviour that lies behind it. And, with this being the 1880s, poor Laura has no recourse to justice, hope, or even dvorce. Awfil though it is, perhaps her end is a mercy of sorts.

And, of course, the ghostly (if very, very solid) force from the deep dark past echoes all this, the violent jealousy of me who, of course, apply that tired old double standard as they unthinkingly abuse their wives.

I saw the twist coming, yes, but it worked nevertheless. Capital punishment may be barbarous, Jack may be innocent of the specific crime for which he hangs... but I have no sympathy for him.

There is not, it has to be said, much to find scary in this episode. But it was excellent nonetheless.

Nanny McPhee (2005)

"I did knock..."

I wasn't originally going to blog this, hence the fact that I'm wings big it without any notes. It isn't the sort of thing I'd usually blog; just one of many bit of Christmas telly that we're catching up on the Sky Plus, in this case recorded because Mrs Llamastrangler is rather fond of it.

But in hindsight it deserves a blogging, not least because I have nothing else to blog at the moment; it's been a busy few days. Besides, it's rather good, and Emma Thompson would be my ideal choice for the next Doctor Who donuts worth a look at her.

She is, of course, brilliant, both as star and as writer of this adapted screenplay. This may fit into an existing tradition of children's fantasy in a Victorian milieu (cough Mary Poppins cough), but that is no bad thing. Oh,of course you can criticise it for uncomplainingly showing us a socially stratified world, but that's implicit in the setting. To complain would be churlish. And yes, Colin Firth is the same in everything and only ever plays Mr. Darcy, but he fits in nicely here.

The fantasy conceit is brilliant. Emma Thompson is brilliant. Thomas Sangster is brilliant. Angela Lansbury is... interestingly miscast. We even get brief scenes of Derek Jacobi camping it up. As recent kids' films go, this is one of the best.

Doctor Who: The Bells of Saint John

“Run, you clever boy, and remember!”

If you’re visiting my blog for the first time since the last episode of Doctor Who or you have never viewed my blog before, welcome. This is where I review TV, films and such like, but I use the word “review” in its loosest possible sense. Expect many digressions, especially when it comes to Doctor Who, and especially especially when it comes to wondering whatever the hell the Moff is up to.

In a sense, this is a typically light and fluffy opening episode, and a good jumping on point for new viewers, much as RTD used to do. This being the Moff, however, it is also at the same time a fast-paced modern thriller, a semi-romantic comedy worthy of the creator of Coupling in the interaction between the Doctor and Clara, and seeding an awful lot of stuff for the rest of the season and the fiftieth anniversary. This blog entry will be mainly bibbling on about the latter of these.

Basically, this is an excitingly excellent and well cool bit of entertainment with a great baddie in Celia Imrie, loads of action and fantastic usage of modern London as a setting. As my girlfriend remarked, this may be the first time that The Shard has been used like this as a landmark. But it’s also re-establishing the programme for new viewers, introducing Matt Smith as the Doctor in such a way as to gently ease the new viewer in to his habits and personality. It helps here that he needs to introduce himself, for the third time, to yet another version of Clara/Oswin/whatever name she has to be using. Jenna-Louise Coleman is bloody good here, again, this time using her native Lancashire accent and a modern idiom, but recognisably the same personality, plopped in to a different life.

The Moff, being the Moff, gives us an uber scary concept plucked from everyday life, in this case WiFi. In fact, this isn’t the only familiar Moffat motif we have here; the concept of human minds being uploaded on to a hard-drive harks back to Silence in the Library, while the TARDIS phone ringing is a nostalgic reminder of his first ever Who script, as well as an excuse for the rather cool title.

Let’s just get it out of the way: this was bloody good. Now we can get on with the speculation. I couldn’t help noticing that the Doctor rather tended to draw attention to the fact that he rather likes the phrase “Doctor Who?”, which is a rather obvious piece of foreshadowing. I also couldn’t help noticing a novel written by a certain Amy Williams! It was a nice subtle tribute to her. Similarly nice was the reference to the real life police box at Earls Court.

Other little things include Clara’s diary, in which she has changed her age every year except when she was twenty-three. This is most probably going to be significant later in the season. I also noticed that the script did not identify the “woman” who first got Clara to ring the Doctor about the internet. The villain, of course, is still The Great Intelligence, a nice subtle shout out to the Troughton years, with a certain actor returning after the Christmas special.

Oh, and the Spoonheads are a typically scary monster in a horribly imaginative way, while the concept of underlings being controlled by means of an equalizer for such things as obedience, intelligence, and the like it utter genius.

I mustn’t forget, of course, that the TARDIS interior has had a suitably nostalgic makeover, looking rather like it did in the 70’s mixed with the last version. I love the roundels and the retro yet modern console with grindstones above, decorated with Gallifreyan text. We also have a new theme tune and title sequence, which, for the first time since 1989, at last shows the Doctor’s face! The new, Hubble Space Telescope influenced starscapes look awesome! This is the greatest title sequence ever, except for the uber-weird Hartnell version, obviously.

Yeah, basically this rules. One interesting final point, though. The Moff may have done a bit of a Robert Holmes in including a rather unsubtle vegetarian message, comparing the baddies’ treatment of the free range humans to a humane abattoir.

The Nightmare Man: Parts Three and Four

Part Three

“I blame television. Some people see The Sound of Music once too often, and something snaps.”

It’s a bit odd watching episodes two at a time and reviewing them two at a time, especially when it comes to reviewing Part Three while trying to pretend you haven’t also just watched Part Four. So I find myself being quite unable to write up the parts of my notes theorising about the Colonel and secret military cover-ups of aliens. It’s a nice part of the developing plot, though. We’re also constantly reminded of a mysterious soldier with a parachute.

And the plot’s coming on nicely. Things have taken on a regular pattern by now: each episode is a new day; the police are nice, normal people; Tom gets the best lines; the characters are getting to like and trust one another more and more. It’s nice that we have none of that tiresome nonsense where characters suspect each other of nefarious deeds for no good reason. But the undercurrent of horror starts to move into the foreground, and we get actual glimpses of the creature. Fiona’s impressive multimedia set-up lays the groundwork most effectively for the inevitable deaths of the coastguards. After all, for characters like this, living in an isolated place that might as well be a lighthouse, to get killed is pretty much a trope in itself. It raises the stakes, though…

Part Four

“A policeman’s lot is not a happy one.”

So, it wasn’t an alien, it was a Russian cyborg thingy. Well, of course. And the colonel and his mates, who’ve put the island under martial law, are also all Russians. I wasn’t expecting that. The Cold War: how very quaint.

I love the characters’ reactions, though. Inskip suspects something’s up with the colonel, and has his suspicions confirmed. Tom is as witty as ever. Fiona is deeply upset that all this horror has come to her beloved island. And Mike, with his military background, is the one who finally draws out the truth, and, I suppose, gets to be the hero.

I don’t know the original novel at all, but the twist fell a little flat to me. The plot, and especially the warmly drawn characters, are beautifully handled by Holmes, but this is a fairly standard thriller plot until the final twenty minutes, and the big revelation is not sufficiently related to anything we’ve seen earlier to have any real resonance or power.

Still, it’s possible that this fault may lie in the source material. Certainly, Holmes handles the nuts and bolts of the plot, and the characterisation, with consummate ease. But it’s a shame that this should be his only “original” drama. RTD once compared him to Dennis Potter; this script is good, but doesn’t back that claim up.

Incidentally, it's an instructive experience watching a BBC drama from 1981 just after a Joss Whedon series from 2001. Everything seems so much... slower. And I'm sure  it probably means I've failed to properly appreciate Camfield's direction here.

The Nightmare Man: Parts One and Two

Part One

“There’s been a murder.”

I’ve never seen this before but, as a rather full-on Doctor Who fan of twenty-four years standing, I can’t resist a thriller, from 1981, scripted by Robert Holmes and directed by Douglas Camfield. These two are pretty much the dream team.

Camfield directed Terror of the Zygons, of course, and it’s not just the Scottish setting that echoes this. The shots from the POV of the killer, or creature, or whatever it is, deeply echo the similar shots of the Skarasen. But here they are very effective, with their whole blood-red look contrasting with the realism we see elsewhere.

Otherwise, we spend the thirty minutes until the murder of Symonds exploring the frenzied murder of a Mars Anderson, and being rather effectively introduced to our cast of characters. It’s a rather unstarry cast; Celia Imrie and Maurice Roeves are the only two I’ve ever heard of. But then, this being a thriller, that’s probably a good idea. I can’t rely on relative levels of fame to predict who’s going to get killed.

I assume this was filmed on location on a proper island up in the Highlands; it certainly looks like it. And this closed little community, where Inspector Inskip has just four police officers at his disposal, feels simultaneously large and claustrophobic in the fog. The characters are interesting, and it’s interesting to speculate what will happen to them. Mike proposes to Fiona, so I assume at least one of them (him?) is not going to survive. The policemen are all likeable but realistic and human, as they should be from the pen of an ex-copper. It’s a nice touch to see Tom swearing in Gaelic! Roeves is excellent as Inskip- reassuringly normal and believable for a TV cop.

Part Two

“No creature on this Earth has a bite like that.”

This episode does something very refreshing; it slowly and plausibly gets our main characters to accept that they’re dealing with an alien without resorting to the tired and frustrating spectacle of characters refusing to believe anything which seems far fetched. With the cliffhanger, the final piece slots into place as even Inskip accepts that “Nothing human did that.”

We’re given various pieces of the puzzle one by one; the creature’s teeth, the fact that it seems to be radioactive, and finally what appears to be its spacecraft. But there’s one other mystery here: Colonel Howard. At first I assumed he was just a red herring- he clearly isn’t the killer- but could he be more than he seems? Do the military have some connection with what’s going on? Is the military parachute a clue? Or is he a double red herring?

I really like Inskip; he may be a newcomer and a Glaswegian, but he’s part of this community and he cares for it (“Ah, Jamie’s a good loony, Tom. He’s not a killer.”). He’s clever, too; he sees that the killer’s moving in a straight line and follows it. We’ve also established that Mike, Fiona and Dr. Goudry are all decent sorts. They can’t all survive…