A Question of Attribution

 "If something is not what it claims to be, what is it?"

This is a 1991 television adaptation of Alan Bennett's stage play from 1988, when Spycatcher had recently been all the rage and there was a great deal of interest in Philby, Maclean, Burgess and all that. Not that the whole affair is any less fascinating today, of course, but it must be borne in mind that Blunt had been dead for a mere five years at the time of the stage play, whereas Philby's drab, dreary Muscovite existence drew to a melancholy close that same year. This was hardly ancient history.

Given the writer, the director and the cast, this is obviously superb. It could hardly fail to be, although it's a bit of a slow burner. It's very Alan Bennett- silences, talking around the subject, the things that are not said, and those that are said are said obliquely or in a nice, safe little metaphor. It isn't the parallel that's drawn between attribution of an artist and the attribution of a spy that's clever, as it's a fairly straightforward conceit- it's the wit, elegance and artistry of how it's done. A lesser writer could easily have hit upon the idea, but it takes an Alan Bennett to execute it this well.

The cast is superb. Prunella Scales, of course, steals the show as the Queen, in a deliciously nuanced and masterly written scene which absolutely nails the themes at play here. Yet James Fox is utterly sublime as Anthony Blunt, a highly cultured man, a snob, and a man who has not yet fully come to terms with the enormity of his reason. It's hard not to see a link between his callous snobbery towards Arthur Chubb and the callousness with which he betrayed those who died because of his youthful treason, sins for which his refusal to name the "Fifth Man" shows he has not fully repented. Yes, he can be kind when he wishes to be, taking young Colin under his wing, but his downfall is utterly deserved.

The twist involving Geoffrey Palmer's character may be a little dated now that we know who the Fifth Man was (John Cairncross), but it's nicely done. Overall, this is vintage, exquisite Bennett. It's philosophical, very English, in the way of that generation- emotions are understated to the point of near-invisibility but far from absent. Beneath the stiff upper lip lies deep emotion, and few show that the way Bennett does.

Captain Kronos- Vampire Hunter (1974)

"What he doesn't know about vampirism wouldn't fill a flea's codpiece."

This is a film that, whatever its virtues, and notwithstanding that it isn't the last one, is as good as any to mark the end of Hammer. With Lee and Cushing pretty much gone from the scene, this film was intended to spearhead an entire new series of Hammer horror films- but it ended up having its delayed for two years and flopping at the box office. What went wrong?

Well, at first glance an awful lot went right. The script from Brian Clemens is clever, twisty-turny, full of compelling characters and nicely establishing a wider mythology about various types of vampires which behave differently- this one ages its victims- and can be killed in different ways, something explored nicely and which gives obvious sequel potential. It’s also creepily shot by Brian Clemens himself, with the vampire attack scenes creatively shot from the vampire’s POV and with plenty of suspense. There’s also a solid and effective cast of splendid British character actors, led by the superb John Cater but including Wanda Ventham, Ian Hendry and John Carson. It also features the very delightful Caroline Munro. There’s a lot going for this film.

Sadly, though, it has two big problems. The first is the casting of Horst Janson. The character of Kronos is awesome- I love his swordsmanship and how he deals with the ruffians in the pub- and Janson is pretty good, but if you have to dub all of your star’s lines because you can’t understand his German accent you have a rather big problem. There’s an awkward disjoint here that overshadows everything. And the second problem is, I think, Clemens’ direction. He can shoot certain types of scenes very well indeed, and you can’t fault his visual storytelling, but there’s a certain dull, overcast feel to the cinematography where a hint of swashbuckling fun was required. The tone doesn’t feel quite right.

It’s a real shame. There’s an excellent film inside this struggling to get out but alas it, and the continuing future of Hammer, was not to be.

I, Clavdivs: Old King Log

"The man who dwells by the pool shall open Graves..."

The first episode, which seems so long ago, featured an interesting bit of breakage to the fourth wall early on as, while Augustus, Marcus Agrippa and co reclined and chatted, a couple of minor characters discussed how the old days never truly existed, that the past is an illusion. That was a clear acknowledgement by Jack Pulman that we rely on sources but we can never arrive at real historical truth, and certainly not via Suetonius.

And so it’s appropriate that, in this final episode, realism breaks down somewhat and the fourth wall is constantly pointed at- and not only in the above quote from Claudius’ farewell speech to the Senate, where he refers to Jack Pulman and Robert Graves. No; in this final episode Claudius has become convinced that he erred in ruling wisely; he reconciled Rome to monarchy instead of discrediting it. So Old King Log resolves to “let all the poisons that lurk in the mud gat h it”, leaning into the Sibylline Prophecy. So he marries his niece and favours Nero as heir over his own son Britannicus. In doing so he raises himself from a mere principal character almost to the status of author, truly Claudius the God. This is often humorous, as when he exasperates Agripinilla by anticipating her every wish without hiding his contempt. (How come such a noble couple as Germanicus and Aggripina spawned such a nest of monsters?). He exerts control over his own death. Yet the ferryman waits for us all in the end.

There is one thing Claudius can not control- his honourable yet naive son, Britannicus, who refuses to  go along with Claudius’ secret plan because “no one believes in the Republic any more”. Instead he chooses to put on his manly gown and face death. Claudius is not omnipotent, after all.

So Claudius gets his big death scene, and a chat with the Sibyll. We get the cameos we’ve longed for from the characters we missed. We get to know the loathsome Agripinilla and Nero (interesting casting!) who, as we won’t be following their exploits after Claudius, can be portrayed with relish, with Nero noting “What a pretty thing a fire is”. No subtext there...

A fitting end to a drama that is justly seen as one of the finest ever. Who cares about the obvious staginess. This is superlative telly.

I Clavdivs: A God in Colchester

"Copulation on a cosmic scale!"

This episode is, to a large extent, a continuation of the last one with even more sex- although we are of course told, not shown, of Messalina’s shagging competition with the magnificently brazen chief prostitute, much as we are told, not shown, of Herod’s ill-fated, blasphemous and hubristic downfall and death. This is, as ever, a very studio bound series of talking heads and studio sets, and there are times it’s very obvious, when visually spectacular events happen only in dialogue. We notice this, but we don’t care, because I, Clavdivs is awesome.

Again we have Claudius being successful in policy- he successfully masterminds the invasion of Britain and wins a triumph, and he successfully opens his longed for winter port at Ostia- but the domestic life almost succeeds in destroying him and, emotionally, arguably does so. Messalina’s sexual appetites, psychopathic personality and extreme lack of discretion is very over the top and Grand Guignol, and no doubt the sources exaggerate, but all this has the serious point of emphasising Claudius’ humiliation. Here he is, the most powerful man in the world (Chinese and Parthian emperors notwithstanding), and he had been blind to a terrible humiliation and threat. Worse, Messalina’s lover plots not only to overthrow him but to replace him with, irony of ironies, a republic. We see how many depend on an emperor, too- his two freedmen ((one of them John Carter, the boss cop from The Abominable Doctor Phibes) are loyal to him because they are likely to be killed should he be murdered. Politics is a dangerous game.

All this and poor Claudius’ best friend betrays him, leaving him old, heartbroken and utterly alone. The tears in his last scene are extraordinary. Still, at least he’s big in Essex.

I Clavdivs: Fool's Luck

"Congratulations, Caesar. You've just passed your first sentence of death. How many before the people grow tired and pass one on you?"

Here we are, then. A full three quarters of the way through the series and finally we move on from adapting  I, Claudius to its sequel Claudius the God, and everything feels understandably different, as the premise of the series has suddenly changed. No longer are we looking at the exploits of a man who survives decades of murder and backstabbing through being thought a fool but how he copes when absolute power is forced upon him. And forced it is- he begins as the very real prisoner of the Praetorian Guard, and it’s only when the ever-reliable Herod convinces him that refusing the purple would mean not only civil war but his own murder that he accepts his position. His splendid speech before the senate is at once eloquent, directly addressing his physical disabilities and very much acknowledging that it is 400 soldiers of the Praetorian Guard who are in charge here, wielding a power that the senate “so spinelessly them”.

And we find that Claudius is and is not a fool. In affairs of state he is anything but, seeing through the corrupt machinations of his civil servants on the matter of building a winter harbour in Ostia. Yet he is but the puppet of his manipulative wife Messalina, and the episode is nicely structured in how it slowly allows her wickedness to unwind. In the end she achieves nothing but the pointless death of the good man who was unlucky to be fancied by her, but she survives u suspected, no doubt to up the ante. And apparently this girl is only seventeen.

Claudius is making s good start as Emperor, but the seeds of his destruction are already there, in the private rather than public realm. Unused to being wanted by women, he is easily manipulated. And even Herod oozes foreboding when he warns Claudius to “trust no one”. An emperor must be alone and friendless; it’s just that Claudius does not yet know this. His closing words- “I’m tired”- foreshadow much.

This is very different to earlier episodes. But just as superlative.

Doctor Who: The War Machines

Part One

""Oh, I dig your fab gear."


A whole story full of actual footage! On DVD no less! Something to cherish, as it's something that won't be happening again until the story after next...

The way the title of the story is displayed is very nice indeed, and it's a sign that, although the change in lead actor is still to come, we've entered a new era. It seems incongruous at this point in the show's history to have a story set in contemporary London, not least because the setting demands a degree realism alien to Doctor Who as we've known it. Certainly, the opening shot is reminiscent of the TARDIS' departure from An Unearthly Child, whether intentionally or not, but from that point onwards this is unlike anything we've seen before.

The early scenes of the Doctor and Dodo leaving the TARDIS are dialogue free, which is most effective, and the "Out of Order" sign is a nice visual gag which can only work because this is the first true landing in contemporary Britain. If only Ian and Babs were here! Instead we've got Dodo. it's nice to see Steven get a mention, though.

Surely the biggest Billy-fluff yet: "I can... I can feel... it's got something sort of powerful... it... look at my skin. look at that! I've got that pricking sensation. That sensation again, the same... just as I had when I... fought the Daleks. Those Daleks were near." Not for the first time in recent episodes Hartnell's poor health seems to be showing on screen. A lot of his lines in this story sound as though they're not as scripted, although all other aspects of his performance are spot on as always.

It's such a pleasure to see the lovely Anneke Wills for the first time, so much so that I'm almost prepared to just accept how easily the Doctor and Dodo seem to get into the Post Office Tower without any awkward questions. In fact, no one questions the Doctor's right to be there at any point in the story. This is in a way welcome as it removes a potential source of childishness, but some explanation, if only a throwaway line, would have been nice.

The Doctor's hat and cloak are coolness incarnate, incidentally- no wonder he's able to get past the doormen and into Inferno although, sadly, an opportunity is missed: we don't get to see the Doctor strutting his funky stuff. Still, the scenes in the club are Sixtiesness itself, and it's most odd seeing loads of mods in Doctor Who. This half feels like an episode of The Likely Lads, particularly the one with Anneke Wills in it.

The scenes with Polly and Ben are rather nice- Polly is a very likeable character indeed, although the fact that Anneke Wills is gorgeous probably helps.

I would mention the final line of the episode- "Doctor Who is required. Bring him here."- but let's face it, it's rather innocuous, and I'm sure we all barely noticed it.


Part Two


"Yes, I wonder, Sir Charles, do you suppose...er... no, I don't suppose you would."


Oh dear, the baddies are insisting that their top priority is to "enlist Doctor Who" and generally saying "Doctor Who" all over the place. Still, to paraphrase General Melchett, if all else fails then a straightforward refusal to face facts in the face will see us through.

Polly and Ben are a very likeable pair of characters. Interesting that Polly basically asks Ben out. It's a shame really that, as Polly's about to be brainwashed for the rest of the story, we won't see them again properly together in until the end. Still, there'll be plenty of time to get to know them.

This episode introduces us to what will become a Doctor Who trope, the death of a tramp, but at this point it seems very jarring, an injection of social realism into a Doctor Who sci-fi story. The same episode gives us Dodo's hypnotism and a brief appearance from the Doctor's magic ring- something we haven't seen for a while. We don't realise at the time, but this is the last we'll be seeing of Dodo. I was hardly the character's biggest fan, but her departure is not exactly befitting.

Oh dear, the baddies are saying "Doctor Who" left, right and centre now. La la la la, I can't hear you. Isn't it rather irresponsible of the Doctor to send Ben on such a dangerous mission?


Part Three

"All human beings who break down will be eliminated."


Anneke Wills plays the brainwashed Polly very well indeed- the scenes in the warehouse are very effective. Although once Polly gets caught not snitching on Ben it's rather awkward that she's sent to WOTAN to be punished instead of just shot.

Sir Charles' phone call to the minister gives me a thought: he's Willie Whitelaw!

Soldiers? In contemporary England? In Doctor Who? Heavens above! I wonder if we'll ever see such a thing again? The cliffhanger's great, I don't care how little sense it makes.

Part Four

"The miserable old so and so!"


It's most odd seeing the Doctor assisting the authorities. We've never seen this sort of thing before, and I wouldn't like to see it too often (oh, the dramatic irony!) but at this point it comes across as very sixties in an Avengersy, Adam Adamanty sort of way. The Doctor in this story is the scientist as hero, saving the day by thinking and inventing things, not by action adventure. For that we now have Ben, and very good he is too. But where's Polly? it's a good while since we last saw her.

The Doctor suddenly slipping away from the authorities once the baddies are defeated- another Doctor Who trope makes its entrance here! Dodo gets a mention at the end, which is something, I suppose, but now of course we get the great Ben and Polly aboard the TARDIS. I've never seen The Smugglers before; more than at any point up to now I can't wait to see what happens next.


Overall, that was all good fun. Nothing too clever, perhaps, but there's nothing wrong with that. 4/5.