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.

I, Clavdivs: A Touch of Murder

"It never was what it was..."

It's 20th September 1976. I am as yet a very small collection of cells in my mother's womb, a bizarre thought, and on BBC One there begins the first feature length episode of I, Clavdivs, the BBC's new prestige drama adapting Robert Graves' novels I Claudius and Claudius the God, both of which I recommend heartily, or at any rate at least those parts of the novels that don't require any location filming.

Because that's the thing; there are no locations, no handheld camerawork. Instead there are small sets where you can tell the sets dressing extends no further than is visible on screen. It's theatre with a camera pointed at it, with only lip service made to realism. It relies only vaguely on spectacle; it's entirely about the acting and the script. And, my God, it's magnificent. I would never want them to take away today's location filming and handheld cameras, but we shall never again see the likes of I, Clavdivs.

We begin, after a title sequence that I'd quite forgotten would later inspire the titles of Black Adder II, in the present day in, I think, the 50s AD, with that young Derek Jacobi aged up as the elderly Emperor Claudius as he prepares a framing device, Greek chorus to his own autobiography with the added Greek touch of a riddle from the Sibyl. Then we are in flashback, the seventh anniversary of Mark Antony's defeat at Actium so 24BC, where there is dancing with boobies and our dramatis personae- the splendid Brian Blessed as Augustus in a large yet subtle and nuanced performance that is the highlight of his career, and rivals Herod Agrippa, the old warhorse, and young favourite Marcellus. We also have Augustus's sister Octavia mother to Marcellus, and his wife (and Caesar's only child) Julia- keep up at the back. And at the centre of the web we have Livia.

So we're all set for a long game of- well, definitely not thrones, that's for sure, because Rome doesn't do kings. Oh no. Definitely not. Because Augustus can't wait to lay down his temporary burdens and the republic will be back again like it was in the recent past, right? But before this we get an extraordinary fourth wall-breaking moment as a Greek orator and an actor playing an actor have their faces foregrounded over the main characters and lament how the theatre is not what it was, and never was  in th first place. We are deliberately reminded of the artificiality of all this, that Suetonius may well have been writing out of his arse, and even (by Augustus) that history is not being told as it was but with poetic licence. All this is quite wonderful.

We see the early power games between Agrippa and Marcellus, until first the latter and then the former are fatally poisoned by Livia, whose choice of words is exquisite as she "helps" her sick victims, in order to maneouvre her glum and awkward son Tiberius to the top spot. We see the contrast between Tiberius' weakness and deep depression versus his heroic and cheery brother Drusus, who hopes for a republic but, alas, has a mother who hates him and happens to be Livia.

Augustus is the consummate psychopathic politician, a mafia don, whose every act is politically calculated and whose calculated bonhomie covers a terrifying ruthlessness. And Rome is a goldfish bowl where marriages, divorces, sex and happiness are but political tools. Power pervades every action. Tiberius' self-loathing is quite understandable.

We end with Drusus' suspicious death, with deeper darkness engulfing both Tiberius and the widowed Antonia, a crying baby, and Claudius in the present day with his food taster, suspicious that his wife and stepson are trying to kill him, because such is Rome. It's a richly written, superbly acted bit of telly history and I don't care about the very 1976 hair of young Gaius and Lucius, Livia's next victims. I'm loving this already.

Doctor Who: The Myth Makers

Temple of Secrets

"Oh, but you have killed this poor fellow!"

"Yes, but in your name!"


It's clear from the start that we're in for a treat as the dialogue between Achilles and Hector is very funny indeed, as is the dialogue for the entire story. Odysseus is also great, cynical yet likeable, and a very contemporary interpretation of the character. I've always thought the comedy style of this episode to have a lot in common with the Beyond the Fringe, satire boom type comedy of the early to mid 60s. The treatment of the Trojan War here is very much the sort of thing I'd expect Pete, Dud and the other two to come up with, and there's no higher praise than that.

Basically, I'm going to spend this entire post gushing.

It's a very cynical yet also very modern view of war and "honour" we get here, with short shrift being given to any conception of war being at all glorious or honourable. Most of the characters are either cowards or fools. Even Menelaus isn't even that bothered about Helen's adultery; "If you must know I was heartily glad to see the back of her."

Already we can see that Hartnell is going to shine, as he always does in these types of stories.

Small Prophet, Quick Return

"Now don't be frightened, child. You shall die when I say so and not a moment before."


The Trojans turn out to be just as entertaining as the Greeks, and Max Adrian is excellent. In fact, the overall quality of the guest cast is exceptional throughout the story.

We "see" Vicki in the TARDIS wardrobe room- it's first "appearance". Oh, for some actual footage! And not for the first time, Vicki doesn't leave the TARDIS until some way into episode two.

The scene where Odysseus interrogates the Doctor and Steven is actually quite clever. For a start, he actually believes them when they tell him they're time travellers, both confounding our expectations and leaving us in no doubt that he's an extremely clever man underneath the cynicism. And although we already know what Odysseus' condition is going to be, and the plan the Doctor's going to inevitably come up with, the script milks our foreknowledge for maximum comic effect.

The scenes in Troy also sparkle, with the relationships between Priam, Paris and Cassandra being sketched out very economically through dialogue which also happens to be extremely witty: "You get back to the war. If you've not killed Achilles by nightfall I shall be seriously displeased". Priam's summing up of Cassandra, as having to predict the worst at all times as a sort of insurance policy to give her the "I told you so" factor at all times, is at the same time witty, accurate and dripping with dramatic irony.

The ensuing scene, with Paris very quietly shouting for Achilles and having to fight Steven is my favourite part of the story: "Well, I say, this sort of thing id just not done. Surely you'd rather die than be taken prisoner?"

A very effective cliffhanger, made all the more so by a very alarming title for the next episode.

Death of a Spy

"Woe to the House of Priam! Woe to the Trojans!"

"I think it's a bit late to say 'whoa' to the horse..."


Frances White is great as Casssandra, playing the character absolutely straight and being all the funnier for it. You can see why the Trojans pay her no attention.

It's nice to see the budding relationship between Vicki and Troilus getting some prior development, although it never quite seems convincing. There's nothing wrong with the way it's written or performed here, but it would have been nice to have some foreshadowing in earlier stories of Vicki's imminent departure.

Interesting line for a family show: "Upon my soul, you're making me as nervous as a Baccante at her first orgy"!

Horse of Destruction

"To be a prisoner of war is considered very bad form."


Katarina, rather surprisingly, only appears for the first time at the start of this episode.

I really have to praise the latest Loose Cannon recon here- not only are there lots of nice little touches (Frances White is shown with the hairstyle she presumably had in this story rather than I Clavdivs, no doubt through some technical jiggery-pokery) but there's a lot of moving footage, especially with scenes involving the horse in this episode.

There's plenty of wit still on show, but the episode is rather bleak and sombre, all the more so for being understated. The handling of Vicki's departure is interesting; we're not made privy to her final chat with the Doctor inside the TARDIS. Vicki's leaving everything behind to be with a bloke she's just met, from the 12th century BC, who thinks she's betrayed him, but the scene with Vicki and Troilus somehow works, and dammit, I cried. I'm sure Troilus and Cressida will be happy ever after, in no way eventually meeting a tragic fate.

Interesting final moments; Katarina's aboard the TARDIS more or less be accident, she's convinced she's going to die soon, and Steven's very badly hurt.


Overall, this is my new favourite story of all time. The dialogue was exquisite, and could almost have been written by Peter Cook. but unlike The Romans, another comedy, if of a very different sort, the regulars were in character and true to themselves throughout. Wonderful. I'd give it a 6/5 if I could.