I Clavdivs: Waiting in the Wings

“IS THERE ANYONE IN ROME WHO HAS NOT SLEPT WITH MY DAUGHTER???!!!”

Sometimes it’s hard finding a quote. Today is not one of those times.

We ended last episode with Tiberius in exile for violence against his wife, Julia, Augustus’ daughter, while Caesar’s grandchildren Gaius and Lucius were being groomed for power. Well, Gaius has already had a “sudden and unexplained death”; I’m sure Livia was shocked. Now, as she spends the episode plotting to have Tiberius recalled, I’m sure she’s anxious for poor Lucius. It would be a shame if anything were to... happen to him. All very similar in shape to last episode, then, except that Claudius is now a limping, stuttering child thought a fool by everyone. Like Tristram Shandy, it’s taken a while but he’s got past his own birth in his autobiography.

Last episode I failed to note a few actor spotting moments, not the least of which was Granny Pig from Peppa Pig (a key cultural touchstone to we parents if young children) discoursing on anal sex. Well, Julia is now, having been told last episode to lay off a bit, shagging around with wild abandon and her terrible downfall and exile is, I suppose, the central plot line of the episode, giving us a chance to see some splendid plotting by Livia and leaving Julia both sweating revenge against Livia and with a fairly clear idea of what’s been happening. It’s all very clever plotting at the same time as giving some superb actors a chance to have some real fun with some delightfully scheming characters. Sian Phillips is deliciously evil here, with loads more to come. But BRIAN BLESSED, beneath the SHOUTING, give a wonderfully subtle performance of avuncular bonhomie which can switch to menacing in an instant. Livia may manage to manipulate him on family issues, but this is a believable, power-hungry Augustus, albeit one who has long grown used to power and is now saddened by the tragedies that seem so inexplicably to befall his blood descendants.

In the middle of the episode is an odd omen that seems to predict Claudius’s rise, followed by some wonderful dialogue between Livilla and Antonia as she wishes herself dead before Claudius should ever come to power and is promptly send to bed without any supper, an appropriate prefiguring of Livilla’s own manner of death.

There’s also a lot of witty commentary in the dialogue on Rome and its ways- Julia and Antonia bemoan the unreliability is slaves these days, while Augustus forces his knights to get themselves married- “And don’t try to get round it by getting engaged to nine year old girls. I know that dodge”. But all this is overshadowed by Julia’s exposure, and by THAT scene. It may be a famous shouty Brian Blessed scene. It’s also an extraordinary piece of acting. Although personally I also love Kevin Stoney as fraudulent astrologer (but I repeat myself) Thrasyllus as Tiberius shares with him a dramatic reversal of fortune and is unexpectedly recalled to Rome. Their fit of laughter as they hear of Lucius’ seemingly natural deaths is utterly wonderful.

But now stage young Postumus is joint heir with Tiberius. And he’s intelligent to know this probably isn’t good for his life expectancy. So ends another magnificent episode, but I suspect I’ll be ending all the rest of these blog posts with similar sentiments.

Blake's 7: Horizon

“Oh Hell. I’m tired of running, Jenna.”

Blimey. For the first time, we get a writer who has neither written nor script edited an episode of Blake’s 7, nor do I know of him from Doctor Who. Allan Prior: who he? He’s rather good, whoever he is.

It seems Cally is now an expert in medical matters. Either that, or the fact that she’s a woman apparently means she’s good at nurturing and stuff. But the message is clear; the entire crew is knackered, dangerously knackered for a bunch of people who live in such constant danger. So what does Blake do? Yep; go chasing a nearby Federation freighter because he’s “curious”. This is one of many recent examples of a subtle but growing trend; instances of Blake showing that he is in fact a dangerous, reckless fanatic who is a danger to his crew, who would be better off with Avon who, in spite of his outward cynicism, is a sensible chap, has their best interests at heart and is not so apolitical as he pretends.

The freighter is going to Horizon, an isolated world on the very edge of this spiral arm. Blake follows, pushing his crew hard; Jenna makes it very clear that she’s tired. They make it through a magnetic barrier- another example of how Blake’s recklessness could have got them all killed- and eventually Blake and Jenna teleport down, but not before Avon overhears Blake admitting to her that he’s taking her, as the best pilot, as insurance to stop Avon running off without him.

Being knackered, they are both promptly spotted and hit by darts from a blowpipe, meaning that Gan and Vila have to go after them.

Blake and Jenna are interrogated by the Federation’s Commissar, a nasty little totalitarian who sees resistance as a “malfunction of the genes”, suffered by “one in 100,000” which is usually “detected in infancy”. Suddenly we’re back to the overtones of Brezhnev-style medicalisation of dissent as seen back in The Way Back, and we’re reminded just how awful the Federation is.

Alongside the Commissar is a young, hesitant man called Ro, nominally in charge of this planet. He’s played by Darien Angadi, who had a rather memorable part in I, Clavdivs. There’s a tension between him and the Federation, but as a young and weak ruler, he allows himself to resist, collaborating with what he tries to pretend are not his colonial overlords. As with the European colonies of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, the Federation are interested in Horizon for its mineral resources, in this case Monopasium 239, a rare element(?) which can send ships “into new galaxies” (Is this new? Is humanity just about on the verge of leaving the Milky Way for the first time?). This is done by slave labour, and generally by the most repressive practices possible. 1979 is surprisingly late for a colonial allegory like this one, but Ro reminds me of one of those Indian princes who went to public school and Oxbridge.

Blake has an interesting conversation with Ro, in which he sows all sorts of doubts into his mind; it seems he saw a friend of Ro’s die on the way to Cygnus Alpha. This isn’t allowed to go on for long, though; soon they’re both dispatched to the mines, where there’s an interesting scene where Blake organises the rationing of food fairly. There they meet Selma, Ro’s consort, who has been dispatched to the mind for vaguely “seditious” remarks. This is pretty appalling, in fact so much so that it’s a bit of a misstep on part of the script. For Ro to treat the woman he supposedly loves like this makes it hard for us to sympathise with him at all.

With four of the crew missing, Cally goes down to find them, and promptly disappears. Now there’s just Avon. Will he flee, safe aboard the Liberator, or will he rescue his friends? There’s a degree of tension, but regular viewers know by now that he’s far more loyal and reliable than he superficially seems.

Meanwhile, Cally reveals to Ro that the Federation had his father killed, and he discovers the Federation had been considering having him killed. Worst of all, he has to watch while Selma is tortured. The climax is fitting, as Avon’s highly efficient rescue mission coincides with Ro, in traditional dress, killing the Commissar with his blowpipe.