Good Omens: Every Day

 "You know as well as I do how badly understaffed Hell is right now."

Crikey, that was a busy final episode. And, in the end, it was very good indeed. I still maintain that this season started well, ended well but had a fair bit of filler in the middle, and perhaps one could criticise the pacing in that this last episode had an awful lot of work to do. But there’s no denying that it’s very good indeed.

It’s an episode about Armageddon and the desirability or not thereof, yes. But it’s also an episode about love and choice. We finally get to see what happened with Gabriel and… he stopped being such an arse and started to parallel Aziraphale. He lost his enthusiasm for Armageddon, started to plot with the other side to avoid it… and fell in love with Beelzebub. With whom he concocted a plan. 

All this, though, is riffing on the relationship between Crowley and Aziraphale, and their unspoken love, with heartbreaking results. The intervention of Maggie and Nina towards Crowley is mature and beautiful. They’re not rushing into their inevitable relationship, because this is reality, but it’s strongly hinted that happiness awaits them. Their own intervention, urging Crowley to tell Aziraphale how he feels, is far more grown-up than a Jane Austen ball full of shopkeepers.

But, despite Crowley pouring his heart out, and that kiss, happiness is not to be for Crowley and Aziraphale. Crowley is a realist, not cynical for the sake of it, and he is right to be equally wary of Heaven and Hell. After all, in the flashback, Metatron strongly hinted at “institutional problems”. But, alas, Aziraphale succumbs to temptation, not from a demon but from Metatron. A fancy title, a fancy office, a swanky job running a project known as “the Second Coming”… he’s learned nothing, in the end. Poor Crowley has no choice. In a sense, Aziraphale has become Gabriel, while Gabriel has become Aziraphale.

An extraordinary, courageous finale. Despite the high concepts, in the end, the point is that love needs principles. We can’t just give our hearts to those who turn out to be lacking in integrity. Crowley, in the end, is more moral.

Good Omens: The Ball

 "Well, it wouldn't be a Shopkeeper's Association without dancing, would it?"

This is another very good episode, with a delightful conceit, a witty script and typically superlative acting. It's still dragging out a rather thin amount of plot though. Only now do we discover that Gabriel, apparently, emptied his memories into a matchbox for some reason. What's going on? Next episode is the finale and there really doesn't appear to be all that much to finalise.

The central conceit really is brilliant, though: a Shopkeepers' Association made to be a ball from right out of Jane Austen, all for the purpose of bringing Nina and Maggie together. It's milked for all its worth, with a splendid collection of shopkeepers, especially the, er, seamstress. And the Doctor Who fan. Who dies, naturally. There are a number of characters here, though, whom I hope we shall be seeing again.

Muriel's clueless credulous is amusing too, as are the spelling deficiences of the hordes of Hell. Yet we also have several hints that Aziraphale and Crowley may well have... those sorts of feelings for each other. I suppose it says a lot that this can somehow manage to entertain so much with such a thin plot. Good stuff, but the further throiugh the season we get, the thinner the gruel.

Good Omens: I Know Where I'm Going

 "So Elspeth here has all the opportunities because she's so poor."

"That's lunacy."

"No, that's ineffable."

The above quote says it all. Like last week's "minisode" (I've finally worked out what's going on with those: they're the historical flashbacks inserted into the episodes), Aziraphale learns a damn good lesson on moral ambiguity, and on the fact that seeing morality s something literally dictated from on high may not be the best idea. Here, he learns that lesson in 1820s Edinbugh, complete with bodysnatchers, laudanum, David Tennant getting to use his real accent and the anachronistic use of "Flower of Scotland".

It must be sais, fun though the episode is. Yes, Muriel's attempts and pretending to be a human police officer are hilartious, but the effect of her being there is to prevent the Maggie/Nina romance plot from having to move forward too quickly so other stuff can happen. Aziraphale discovers a few clues in Edinburgh, but it isn't much.

Whatever has been going on with Gabriel gets curiouser and curiouser, though. Plus Shax, and Beelxebub, have worked out where Gabriel is, and this means war. Still, fun though this episode genuinely is, with another sparkling script, I'll be glad if some more actual stuff can happen next time.

Good Omens: The Clue

 "Shoemaking and obstetrics. Those have always been the twin passions of Bildad the Shuhite."

This is, of course, wonderful stuff. The stuff about Job (took me a while to recognise Peter Davison under all that make-up) is a delight, the perfect way to show us how Crowley first got Aziraphale to doubt that God was truly all-wise and all-benevolent, while Crowley subtly shows himself not actually to be as bad as he pretends to be. All of the flashback stuff is a delight- and shows Gabriel to be an amoral git, the sort of bad manager we've all had, a proper contrast with the innocent Jim of today.

The plot is fun, too. Aziraphale simply has to get Maggie and Nina to fall in love to stop last episode's miracle looking suspiciois to the senior management of Heaven. There's the mystery of a jukebox in an Edinburgh pub which eventually turns all records into the one Buddy Holly b-side. And the fact that of course the children of God's favourite goody-goody are going to be insufferably entitled. This is the best comedy in yonks, yet it has real subtext too. We must never take our morals from authority, but from our hearts.

Oh, and Jane Austen, that well-known bank robber, smuggler and spy, also wrote novels on the side. Who'd have thunk it?

Good Omens: The Arrival

 “I don’t believe the Almighty has actually created a suggestion box.”

This isn’t just wonderful television. It’s pure bliss.

Take the pre-credits flashback scene, a two-hander between Crowley and Aziraphale set at the moment of creation. Isn’t it a sketch right up there with the very best of Monty Python, the perfect hook for potential new viewers, deliberately rigging off Life of Brian while being every bit as good? Yet with the added joyful depths of David Tennant and Michael Sheen as actors utterly on top of their roles, the perfect double act? It’s exquisite.

That’s before we even start with the superlative comedy genius of Jon Hamm. This is first class comedy. Yet it’s simultaneously deeper than that. The conceit- that reality is as Christian fundamentalists see it, but that God therefore works in very mysterious ways indeed- is nicely distilled for the benefit of new viewers. This first scene at once encapsulates who the characters are and what the series is about.

So where is this seriess headed? It appears to be mysterious political skulduggery between Heaven and Hell, with the Almighty as a deeply cynical player of ten dimensional chess: a valid theological viewpoint, I feel. No witchfinders, antichrist children or witch descendents this time, although we do have what seems to be the beginning of a rather sweet romance between Maggie and Nina, two of Aziraphale's fellow street retailers of quirky goods. 

We also have lots of splendid interaction between our favourite two celestial beings, lots of office politics in Heaven- Doon Mackichan is already promising as the ambitious Archangel Michael. But it seems Gabriel is persona non grata, exiled to Earth with neither wings not memories- or, indeed, clothing- and only a seemingly empty box. And no sooner do Crowley and Aziraphale resolve to shelter him than we find that anyone found doing so will be subjected to "extreme sanctions". And this means... oh dear.

This is exquisite. Far more than mere superb telly.

Mad Men: The Wheel

 "You'll have to give back that copy of Ayn Rand..."

This is an interestingly brave, yet satisfying finale. We don't have the climaxes of last season- Peggy aside- as we end not with a dramatic peak but a satisfyingly relaxed wrapping up. This finale is all about families, none of them perfect.

This is obviously the case for Don, who never has one growing up and- as we found last week- feels semi-detached from his family, preferring to work rather than join them for Thanksgiving. Yet he has an epiphany of sorts in his presentation- brilliant as ever- for Kodak, using his own family snaps and getting a little emotional- a sublimely judged performance from Jon Hamm- at the thought of the family he has. Yet the scenes of his returning home, gathering his children in his arms and joining the family for Thanksgiving are shown just to be in his head; the reality is a cold, lonely house, all alone.

Betty finally realises, too, after Francine comes to her for help with her own husband's infidelity, that she's always known about Don's unfaithfulness and is finding it harder and harder to pretend. Then there's Pete, in his strained marriage, under pressure from his fayher-in-law to sire an heir. There's Harry, thrown out of his house after his dalliance last episode and sleeping in the office. Even Peggy's promotion to junior copywriter, a huge achievement for this quietly ambitious young woman- and another humiliation for Pete, who seems desperate to please a stern, uncaring father figure in Don- is followed by the shock of realising she's pregnant and about to give birth, a woman in a man's world after all. And, when shown her baby son, she turns her head away...

The Kodak Carousel may show a surface world of happy families. But they are nothing but.

Another season of Mad Men will be coming to this blog before too long. This is delicious, exquisite telly.

Mad Men: Nixon vs Kennedy

 "Mr Campbell, who cares?"

It's interesting that this should be the penultimate episode rather than the finale, seeing how it reaches a climax in a number of ways- including, I hope, for both Harry and Trudy, however deliciously awkward their morning after may be.

Sterling Cooper's unfortunate connection to the Nixon campaign allows a focus on the election night drama for that very close Kennedy. Yet, unlike in 2020, there genuinely is electoral fraud, although I understand the historical consensus is broadly that it didn't determine the outcome. Yet it feels strangely old-fashioned to see Nixon concede so gracefully. Of course, in those days, the Republican Party was an institution of the mainstream centre-right, and was in favour of freedom and democracy while opposing Russian authoritarianism. How times change.

The party is, of course, drunken, decadent, and full of inappropriate and sexist behaviour. Peggy, of course, leaves early, and endures a little light bullying. Yet I suspect, in the long run, she's going places.

The final act, though, has Pete using the info he's gleaned to try and blackmail Don. Don has a crisis of confidence- it's a brave and nuanced piece of writing to show this with him visiting Rachel and begging her to run away with him. As she rightly points out, this is cowardice, especially as he has kids he would seemingly abandon. We're allowed, here, to see Don at his weakest, and to see him propose to do something irredeemably contemptible. What matters is that he doesn't do this, and instead finds courage- but too late to salvage his affair with a disgusted Rachel. It's probably for the best.

Don's calling Pete's bluff is glorious, especially given how Bert Cooper's absolute indifference utterly humiliates him. Cooper is an admirer of the deluded fool Ayn Rand; he sees Don as a self-made man, a Nixon rather than an aristocratic Kennedy.

The coda is fascinating, even if Jon Hamm is perhaps a little too old to play the younger Don.We see how he passively accepts the identity of a dead lieutenant, receiving a free upgrade in social class, and leaves everything behind. Wow. This is brilliant telly, as ever.

Mad Men: Indian Summer

 "Just think about it deeply, then forget it. Then an idea will jump up in your face."

This is an episode about ambition. The central scene, of course, is about Roger's second heart attack as he's dragged in to placate big clients Lucky Strike, but the situatioin has admen and clents alike being very, very worried about Sterling Cooper. So Don, the undoubted talent, is made partner.

This leaves openings. Peggy gets another chance ("Maybe lightning will strike twice"), through the fog of casual sexism, to impress, using her talent for euphemism to its fullest. And, when asking for a raise from Don, she's advised not to be "timid"... and gets what she wanted. In direct contrast to Pete, whose blatant angling for a promotion gets him nowhere.

Peggy gets an orgasm though. Unlike the sexually frustrated Betty, who takes what she can from the washing machine as her husband works late and has an affair with Rachel who, in turn, is adjusting to the concept of being the "other woman" and what it means. All this is very gendered, and the affair is very much at Don's masculine convenience.

As ever, this is all subtly done, and superlative telly... but the suicide of Don'd brother is not; hanging is a drawn out and horrible way to go. And it's a resentful Pete who gets the parcel for Don...

Mad Men: Long Weekend

 "This is all there is..."

This is yet another multi-layered and multi-faceted episde of a drama with a lot going on, ending with Don facing a bit of a low-key existential crisis after Roger's heart attack. But essentially it's aboiut how society, certainly in 1960 but very much also today, expects women to be pleasing to men as men use them.

We see this first with Betty's widowed father and his new girlfriend who, to Betty's disgust, "lives to serve". It's revealing that Don says casually that it'll be "good to have another woman around the house, give Betty a break." But we also see this with Roger (and, passively, Don) abusing his power to hire some pretty young twins half his age, invite them to drinks, and then humiliate and sexualy use them while they fulfil theor roles of being pleasing. It's creepy to watch. We also see a kind of parallel as Joan and Carol (of whom more later) pick up two men; Joan snags the good one while Carol, stuck with the dud, just sighs and tells him to do "whatever you want".

And Don, distraught, instinctly goes to Rachel- a woman he respects, and who is not afraid to be firm with him- for succour. She doesn't yield meekly... but she yields. Althoigh not after getting some of Don's life story out of him. He's the son of a prostitute, raised by his dad, a client, and after his dad's death by his dad's wife and her new man. Bloody hell.

Even the exceptions are interesting. When Carol finally, drunkenly, confesses to Joan that she loves her ("Just think of me as a boy"), Joan pauses and pretends it never happens- and Carol goes along with it. Same sex attraction simply can't be mentioned.

And then there's Peggy, callimg out Pete on his entitled dickishness. She's going places.

This is simply an extraordinary bit of telly.

Mad Men: Shoot

 "I like this show. Very gay songs."

Once again, Mad Men gives us a devilishly clever forty-seven minutes of television. Ostensibly it's about a bigger, rival agency trying to poach Don from Sterling Cooper, unsuccessfully in the end, and the use of a modelling job for Betty as a quid pro quo. Yet it's so much more than that. It's about contemporary attitudes to women working and how they need the implied permission of their husbands, and how being at work is seen, unthinkingly, as neglecting her role as mother. It's all done with admirable subtlety.

Peggy, on the other hand, is now seeing the downside of her copywriting success, no longer seen as sexy now that she's a bluestocking- leading Pete to take extreme measures to defend his masculine definition of her "honour". And yet, in this man's world, Peggy seems to be confident she can go places, much to Joan's well-meaning bemusement. 

The ending, though, is clever, and not only pecause it makes the title a pun on both modelling and firing a shotgun, as she takes elegant revenge on at least one man who has dared to wrong her. This is wonderfully symbolic of something much deeper, and the perfect ending to an elegantly well-crafted episode.

Mad Men: The Hobo Code

 "There is no system. The universe is indifferent."

This episode is, at once, a deep character study of Don Draper and a fascinating exploration of ideas and ideals. It's the finest episode yet and a magnificent piece of television.

We see flashbacks, for the first time, of Don's loveless childhood, raised by adults who are not his parents and connecting to a free-spiriterd hobo (Father Phil from The Sopranos!) who is invited in for the night, but screwed out of money by Don's dishonest uncle. This shows us, perhaps, the origins of his broodiness and inability to get close to people. It's also fascinating to see him exposed to conttrasting belief systems. Cooper invites him to his inner sanctum for an unexpected bonus, as Bert extols the "virtues" of that simple-minded cretin Ayn Rand with her morally and intellectually vacuous drivel, Atlas Shrugged. Don, not being a gullible aristocrat like Cooper, politely demurs.

And yet he ends the episode unexxpectedly getting stoned(!) with his lover and her Beatnik mates from right out of a Kerouac novel. Again he is criticised for his profession by Bohemian wasters who are doing nothing constructive whatsoever to advance the causes they claim to bdelieve in, but instead just smoking weed and listening gto jazz all day. Don has the last word; he is no Beatnik but no Ayn Rand either. Wisely, he understands that the world is a chaotic and indifferent place. Echoing Existentialism and carving out his own meaning in a world whefre one is not provided, he is less shallow than either extreme. And, able to walk out stoned right past the police by virtue of his sharp suit, he is paradoxically exhibiting the freedom of the hobo.

There's more; Pete and Peggy shag, but he begins to exhibit troublingly controlling behaviour over her as his marriage may already be falling apart, essentially because Pete is an over-privileged man-child. Salvatore has a female admirer and also a male one, but is as yet unable to express his gay sexuality. And Peggy's copy, with assistance from a bravura performance from Don, goes across omne. Is she destined, as society starts to change, for bigger things?

Mad Men: Red in the Face

 "He doesn't even wear a hat!"

This extraordinary drama of bygone manners here turns its attention, in an oblique manner, to politics, as Sterling Cooper is set to handle Nixon's presidential campaign. Nixon va Kennedy is seen partly, as in the original meeting, as a clash of the generations. But it's also about social class: Betty is upset to see Helen Bishop in the supermarket and be accused of being a pervert after what happened with little Glen. You can nsymathise with her... but she slaps Helen and then proceeds to close ranks against the working single mother with her snooty friends, and to note that "I hate Kennedy" just to spite her. Wow.

There's still gender in the mix, though. Don gets a report from his pet Freudian quack on Betty and is told, with extraordinary masculine condescension towards Betty, that she has "the emotions of a child". Women are infantilised, yet the men drink enormous amounts on a weeknight, drive away while bladdered and behatted, and make inappropriate passes at their friends' wives- and Don blames Betty, over whom he has some power by dint of his gender, wen Roger, his boss and thus untouchable, makes a move on her. Ouch. Meanwhile, Pete's marriage is showing some very real cracks and he and Peggy are certainly attracted to each other.

This is a pre-Sixties world of hats, hard drinking and sexual harrassment. It all feels very secure. Yet, with Kennedy in the background and Peggy in the foreground, there may be the green shoots of something new. This is such perfectly observed telly.

Mad Men: Babylon

 "Mourning is just extendsed self-pity."

The title is clever. It relates to the ad campaign for Israel and Don's half-flirty, half vaguely racist decision to pursue lunch with Rachel because, well, she's Jewish, so she must know about Israel, right? But no; she's happily exiled in Babylon. Yet another kind of Babyon is on show, one of sin and adultery. Roger is having an affair with Joan. Don is avoiding sex with his actual wife and sleeping instead with his Bohemian girlfriend.

A lot is going on, as usual. Peggy hints that there may be substance to her, and gets a chance to write some copy, much to the disgust of Joan, who randomly alludes to Marshall McLuhan, of all people. Rachel may well acrually like Don, in spite of him being married. We get a flashback to Don's Depression childhood as Dick Whitman. Don ends up out of place in a Beatnik poetry place, where his profession is treated as a sell-out by pretentious jobless types.

There are lots of subtle moments about the characters and about the place and time in which they find themselves living. Not a lot actually happens, but that's not the point. And both the acting and the directing are utterly sumptuous.

Mad Men: 5G

 "I like being your medicine..."

It's an arresting title for a programme made in 2007, but even more arresting is the programme itself. Centred around the idea of a man's "executive" bank account is an examination of 1960 American man, his independence and his secrets. Done has plenty here. Peggy may discover that he's having an affair, but it's Joan who controls such infrmation and what's done with it- and her job as secretary is actually to help him cover it up.

Don has bigger secrets than that, though- or should I say Dick Whitman? His brother Adam is a simple but decent fellow, but Don is believed dead by his family and has reasons to be so desperate to cover up his own past that he bribes his own brother to say away... with money he can spend without Betty knowing. Wow.

Meanwhile, Ken is a published author... and all the other ad execs, fancying themselves as writers, are predictably jealous, saying a lot about the cultural cringe of advertising. And Pete is most jealous of all, so much so that he gets his wife to push for a story to be published... and is upset that she won't sleep with an old friend to do it. Again, wow. Men rule the world here, and it's tyranny.

I suspect neither Don's secrets nor Pete's marriage will last massively long. But this is bloody good stuff.

Mad Men: New Amsterdam

 "No job for a white man...!

I wouldn't have expected it, but Mad Men, that glacially and elegantly unfolding little visual serialised novel of life and manners of New York in 1960 turns out to devote an early chapter to that most un-American of subjects: social class. Well I never.

There's always been an undercurrent of class conflict to the talented and moody Don, a man with depth and soul yet a mysterious and deeply suppressed past, and Pete Campbell, a younger man who oozes the arrogance of entitlement. Here we have a nicely observed culmination of that conflict as Pete breaks the rules and steps on Don's toes, getting himself fired... only for it to be revealed that there is a deeper level of rules, and that certain aristocrats are needed to oil the wheels of posh New York society. The Pete Campbells of this world are unsackable, and the episode concludes with a tale of Pete's family connectrions to the Roosevelts.

We also find Betty connecting more to Helen, discovering the reason for her divorce and becoming the object of a rather cute crush from her young son. There's a class difference here, too, the camera (and nosy Betty) lingering on the notably less well-kept interiors of the house, and with Helen volunteering for the Kennedy campaign while it's implied that the Drapers are Republicans- this being 1960, when said party supported democracy and the rule of law.

This is slow yet fascinating telly.

Mad Men: Marriage of Figaro

 "He could be Batman for all we know..."

This is, of course, an episode about marriage, the monogamy that it represents. Hence Pete's return from honeymoon. Hence the varied conversations about temptation from both sexes. Hence Peggy accepting stoically that Pete is now forbidden goods. Hence the sudden awkwardness once Don sheepishly admits his marriage mere seconds after kissing Rachel like a proper Hollywood alpha male.Hence, indeed the downright evil whisperings aimed at poor, divorced Helen Bishop by the smug wives at the birthday party- and the arrogant assumption by a representative man that this makes her susceptible to transparent advances.

And yet this is also, I think, about how being part of a couple gives us an identity. It's 1960, so this is automatically the case for women, of course, not that we in 2022 are even close to shaking off the misogyny inherent in the tropes of marriage, which we still see as an "institution". There are variations, of course: Helen, in suburbia, is all but an outcast, laughed at for her habit of walking by lazy, car-addicted bitches. Yet Rachel, as a business woman, is defined by her work. Of course, she is also defined by other things, as a despicable anti-semitic comment at the party reminds us.

But it's also seen as central to a man's identity and dignity to be able to show himself to be married. Don has this, and so he can exist in a world where his past seems a bit murky and he is seen as just a little bit mysterious, the one with the camera looking at the party guests rather than truly being seen by others. And yet... an apparent stranger recognises hm as Dick Whitman. Who IS Don Draper?

This is bloody good.

Mad Men: Ladies' Room

 "What do women want...?

The second episode, while is does a lot of other stuff, rather cleverly examines the lot of women in the America of 1960 through the respective lenses of Peggy, continuing to settle in at the firm, and Betty Draper, whom we properly meet for the first time. Contrasting against them is Don's other woman, Bohemian and carefree to the point of throwing a television out of her window, but lacking any real connection to society, long term security or- so far, at least- even a name.

Peggy continues to run the gauntlet of constant male attention in a world in which casual sexual harassment and even groping is utterly normalised- the worldly-wise Joan takes it utterly for granted- and the only acceptable excuse to a man's advances is to claim to "belong" to someone. 

Meanwhile, Betty- whose name evokes Betty Friedan of The Feminine Mystique fame- is drowning in a life of suburban domesticity where the arrival across the road of- shock horror- a divorced woman is the subject for hushed gossip. It hardly seems surprising that she should have a nervous breakdown. Nor is Don's very contemporary resistance to her seeing a psychiatrist, given the stigma of mental illness- although, like a stopped clock being right twice a day, he sort of has a point in that this shrink seems to be a Freudian, and therefore a quack. And even when he relents, we learn that the shrink is reporting to him. Don, who is cheating on his docile wife, is subtly controlling her.

Oh, and there are a lot of women crying in the ladies...

There's also Don's evasiveness about his past, which is moving slowly towards the foreground. This is brilliant television, and it' very telling how well we know the characters after two episodes.

Mad Men: Smoke Gets in Your Eyes

 "Now, try not to be overwhelmed by all this technology. It looks complicated, but the men who designed it made it simple enough for a woman to use."

I've seen the first season of Mad Men before, but in 2008, before this blog was conceived. Revisiting this first episode has been fascinating, but the overall experience has been the same. This is bloody good.

In terms of plot, things are fairly simple- it's 1960, and Don Draper is a Madison Avenue ad executive known for his inspiration. On the surface he is charming and brilliant but, like many charismatic introverts, he has hidden depths, as hinted at most strongly in his conversation with Rachel Mencken, where he is phiposophical and she is perceptive, recognising another person living a life perhaps different from what one's origins may indicate. Essentially, he comes up with an advertising slogan for Lucky Strike cigarettes, while Peggy has her first day- and sleeps with creepy Pete after his stag night. Then we see that Done- who is having an affair with a Bohemian girl with whom he connects- is married to a trophy wife with two kids.

Yet it's not about the plot, it's about the subtle (and blatant!) evocation of a mid-twentieth century, before the '60s started swinging, filled with all sorts of gender and racial norms, and attitudes that jump out at us, whether about smoking, women working or Jewish clients using Jewish firms. Don, as an advertising exec, has essentially a bullshit job, but with prestige. He's allowed to sleep in work time. Meanwhile, Peggy's doctor humiliates her when mansplaining about the pill.

The writing, acting and direction are all masterful. Let's see how the rest of the season goes.

Black Mirror: White Christmas

 “It's just a state change...

Ok, I haven't blogged any Black Mirror since 2017. This is literally because I happen to be at this particular episode, I feel it has to be blogged at Christmas and, er, I happen to have forgotten to blog it for three Christmases in a row.

However long it’s been, though, it’s always magnificent to be exposed to the dark, twisted, dystopian imagination of Charlie Brooker, and this is a particularly good episode. Starting with two men seemingly in an Arctic outpost on Christmas Day, this delivers thought-provoking shocks and twists within a clever and highly satisfying narrative that draws four different stories into one.

As well as the script, the cast is superb, headed by the excellent Jon Hamm. There’s some impressive directing, too, particularly during Greta’s mind-bendingly trippy operation. But it’s all about the ideas, mostly revolving around the consequences of “z-eyes” which add various apps to our eyes. Hence you can “block” people in real life, or invite pick-up artists to remotely advise you as you gatecrash an office Christmas party. There is, really, a simple premise behind all the evil twists here, but the twists themselves are devastating- especially the first and last ones.

There’s much ruminating on the ethics of things like privacy, child custody, crime and punishment, and the ethics of how we should treat artificial intelligence, but it’s all done as subtext to stories about very real and sympathetic characters. This is genius telly, and the most twisted Christmas ever. I’ll never again listen to Wizzard in the same way.

(This week has been hectic, so fewer blog posts and I’ve had to blog short things where I could. Fear not, things are proceeding as ever- I’m alternating Life on Mars and The Crown, squeezing in a bit of Sex Education, The Mandalorian and Once Upon a Time when Mrs Llamastrangler and I watch them, and films on weekends. The Christmas period may be weird though. And I’ll be doing more Black Mirror early in the New Year

(Review)

(Summary of what I’m blogging)

Good Omens: The Very Last Day of the Rest of Their Lives

“Just imagine how awful it might have been if we'd been at all competent."

It's the end, then. oh, I'm aware of what's been said in the media; Gaiman hasn't ruled out a second season, and he and Terry Pratchett even had at least some discussion way back when about a novel. But really; there are obviously no particular plans to continue and it all seems pretty much well-wrapped up to me.

It's a splendid finale, too. Oh, I realise it ends about halfway through with Newt breaking all the world's military computers with his superhuman klutziness while Adam firmly insists that a CGI Benedict Cumberbatch is not his father, in a bizarre reversal of The Empire Strikes Back, and we proceed to spend the rest of the episode in an indulgent celebration of Crowley and Aziraphale's six thousand year friendship. And why the bloody hell not? It's all highly entertaining, and the swap between the two of them to survive their respective punishments is, er, devilishly clever. Never mind that Mrs Llamastrangler guessed what they'd done, or that they're lucky that their respective punishments were indeed holy water and hellfire respectively. I'm far too entertained by this to be churlish about plot holes.

Even better, we get Agnes' new prophecies, and shipping of Sergeant Shadwell with Madame Tracey, as soon as he's checked she has an acceptable number of nipples. But best of all are our two friends, those magnificent actors Messrs Sheen and Tennant, and a superb adaptation of a splendid novel after three bloody decades. Wonderful.