Wolf Hall- The Mirror and the Light: Light

 "The King of France gave me gloves. He didn't want to marry me..."

Wow. And with that... I'm broken.

The genius of this real piece of televisual splendour is that... well, wew know what happens. This is documented histoiry. We know how and when Thomas Cromwell dies. There's no suspense here, but suspense is not the point. There is only character, and emotion.

There is Cromnwell's true stoicism, as he runs rings round his interlocutors while knowing he is nevertheless doomed. Oh, he's accused of arrogance, getting above himself, wanting to marry Mary, othersuch absurdities... and heresy, of which he is guilty by the standards of the age, rejecting the Pope only for a very Enflish Catholicism. Yet above all, I think, it's his impatience for the grinding of due process, his manipulation of events, that he is damned. And so, as he says, he will be followed by slower men, and England will suffer.]

He is clear-minded, cautioning his friends to stay apart and not seem to be plotting. He insists that Gregory denounce him for his own safety, as would any father in his position. Yet his calm does not mean absence of feeling, as Mark Rylance shows us with sublime subtlety. Some peoople are vlatile, but those of us whonare calm and composed have feelings too, and Cromwell has his demons... and yet one, at least, is healed. He feels himself reconciled with Wolsey's ghost, and his final plrea for forgiveness before his beheading, are clearly aimed at his former master, a lovely touch. And, as a parallel, his own protege Rafe has the most love for his own master.

And so it ends, and so does he. The ending is devatating. Liuke Anne Boleyn, he finds dignity before the blade takes his life, all as the king prepares to wed yet again...

Sublime television.

Wolf Hall- The Mirror and the Light: Obedience

 "I created him..."

And the second episode turns out to be even better than the first, which is saying a lot. In fact, let us not mince words: yes, it looks fantastic and the acting is first rate. But this is an absolute masterpiece of televisual scriptwriting- and makes it clear that I need to read the original novels as it seems likely that Hilary Mantel may indeed be a genius.

This is a masterpiece of form and feeling. In showing us the deadly danger of Henry's court, where anyone can sudenly be judicially murdered at the whim of a capricious tyrant, we have a series of examples. Firstly, there is Lady Margaret and her affair and, indeed, marriage (without the king's permission) to Thomas, one of the younger, pooer Howards. Meg is soon made by Cromwell and her friend, in an extraordinary scene, to realise just how much trouble she's in... but Thomas stands to lose everything.

For this is a world in which it is treason to imagine the death of the king. To marry the king's niece is to maneouvre oneself closer to the throne, and this smacks of dangerous ambition.

Yet soon Cromwell himself faces the same danger, as absurd yet potentially damaging rumours start to spead of his wishing to marry the Lady Mary. The aggression with which he treats Chapuys here leaves us in no doubt that he realises fully the dangers of his situation.

And then we have poor Jane Seymour, having to endure the sexual attentions of that bloated, smelly man. She confesses to not enjoying said attentions, and worries that, without taking sexual pleasure, she will not conceive a son. What lies unspoken, horribly, is that, without a son, she will be yet another Anne Boleyn, fated for the block.

Finally, we have the devastating conclusion, as Cromwell shakily says all the wrong things to Wolsey's daughter, slowly realising exactly how he is seen... and may have been seen, at the end, by his beloved Wolsey himself.

Oh, the things one must sacrifice for the king. And he will always demand more and more...

Wolf Hall- The Mirror and the Light: Wreckage

 "I do not understand you, Cromwell. Why are you not afraid? You should be afraid."

It's been... yeah, many, many years. Use the search function if you'd like to see my reviews of the earlier series, adapting Hilary Mantel's first two novels- I did; I certainly needed my memory refreshing. So much life has happened for me since then....

This first episode is extraordinarily powerful. Story, stript, acting, look, direction- all are superb in depicting the sheer peril of politics where the tyrant at the centre of it all is a highly intelligent, scarily volatile and utterly caprucious monster such as Henry VIII, a tyrant of truly terrifying proportions.

As per The Private Life of Henry VIII, a film which, oddly enough, I saw only weeks ago, we begin with the horrifying juxtaposition of Anne Boleyn walking to the scaffold as Henry prepares to marry Jane Seymour the same day. This sequence alone, beautifully shot, says everything. Horrifyingly, Anne keeps looking up, to the windows of the Tower, imagining that there may be hope...

Yet much of the episode concerns the fascinating and deadly games of power. Cromwell may be at the centte of all yet, as Chapuys amusedly pointds out, he is utterly dependent on the King, with no one to save him should he falter. No wonder he is carefully writing a book on how to handle the King.

The King, at this point, seems even worse than before, seemingly contemplating the execution of his own daughter for refusing to sign the oath, yet turning on a sixpence at the end to embrace his cowed child. As for Cromwell himself... he plays such a dangerous game. At one point, when Henry seems to turn fully against Mary, he himself even acknowledges that things certainly appear bleak.

I'm going to enjoy this series so very much- telly at its best.

Brazil (1985)

"I won't look at your willy."

This film is, of course, a work of genius from the unique mind of Terry Gilliam- Kafkaesque, nightmarish, surreal, perhaps similar in visual style to his recently directed Crimson Assurance bit of Monty Python’s Meaning of Life, but announcing Gilliam as a true auteur. It’s also a true cinematic classic, managing to present a fundamentally bleak view of civilisation with the darkly humorous approach that is of course the only sane one.

Gilliam may be a native of Minnesota, but this film is full of the influences of his twenty years in Britain. It is, obviously, full of that Orwellian fear of tyranny, and the petty details of that tyranny, that is constantly found in British science fiction. It is set in a deliberately timeless and anachronistic time and place, but there are plenty of visual nods to the Nazi’s, and in particular to the phenomenon, in the words of Hannah Arendt, of the banality of evil.

It’s very Pythonesque, of course, but should certainly not be reduced to that. The casting of Michael Palin against type is a masterstroke, as is the starring role for the excellent Jonathan Pryce. A parade of British character actors play a parade of entertainingly disturbing grotesques, as does Robert De Niro, whose insane casting somehow works.

It is, of course, obstructive to see a film about the reality of, well, fascism, in 2020. The Kafkaesque evils inherent in computers are shown here, as well as the effectiveness of information control by those in power. Where the only news is Fox News, truth no longer exists. And, while the UK is not yet at risk of fascism or anything close, the blatant cronyism and disrespect for constitution norms we see here are particularly chilling.

A superb film from a director who, with this film, has well and truly outgrown Monty Python.

Tomorrow Never Dies (1997)

"You always were a cunning linguist, James."

I know, it's been a while since GoldenEye. But it took a while before I could face another Bond after that, and it was with all due trepidation that I sat down to watch this. It's a relief to say, then, that Brosnan is better, if still hardly my favourite Bond, and that this is a good if not great Bond film- it says a little in the middle, perhaps, and the whole thing is an extremely formulaic Bond-by-numbers but done well enough, and I think that's what's required at this stage. This is only the second film after a large gap, and there's a need to re-establish all the many tropes.

So we get a notable return to tradition after GoldenEye's sometime iconoclasm, with a notably less spiky relationship between Bond and Judy Dench's M. But we get a decent pre-titles- the Russians are goodies; it must be the '90s- and a mildly disappointing theme tune from Sheryl Crow, and off we go.

This film's Bond villain is the media mogul Eliot Carver, played with splendidly scenery-chewing relish by Jonathan Pryce as he arranges conflict between the UK and China purely to make money. He gets lots of zeitgeisty speeches about the power of the media that date the film enormously; it won't be long until the Internet starts to topple the likes of him off their perches. And I notice that Bond has his first mobile phone, although from the dependably sarky and now octogenarian Q, who has been there since From Russia with Love.

We get a splendid cast as usual, even with the likes of Jason Watkins, Julian Rhind-Tutt, Gerard Butler and Hugh Bonneville with small parts as naval officers. This is hardly one of the greats, but Bond is back on track.

Wolf Hall: Episode 2- Entirely Beloved

"The Pope will learn his place"

It's December 1529. Cromwell is stubbornly loyal to the doomed Wolsey in spite of the total lack of hope. Wolsey is a tragic, declining figure, and his metaphorical death inevitably translates into a real death before the end of the episode. It's interesting to see how Cromwell re-aligns his allegiances- to his co-religionist Anne Boleyn- without betraying his principles. This is also a sign, of course, of the growing impact of the Reformation in England. More may still be burning heretics, but the King's desire for a divorce that the Pope will never give is a huge opportunity for the Protestant cause, and they know it.

Rylance continues to give us a masterclass in acting, with every gesture and every expression suggesting a depth and interiority. Thomas Cromwell is a fascinating and multi-layered character. Awkward but loving with his son, bold (but not too bold) with his admiring King, this is a man who is humble in his personal life and yet bold, if not foolhardy, when it comes to his beliefs. 

Mark Gatiss' Gardiner is deliciously slimy, although I'm not sure that Anton Lesser gives us a sufficiently principled More. This is the episode where he resigns as Lord Chancellor out of deep principle; I'm not sure that Lesser's playing the part as a blustering hard man quite works.

The episode climaxes with Cromwell's being summoned into the Royal presence in the dead of life. This is the court of Henry VIII, and such a summons can mean death, but no: this is opportunity. Cromwell's interpretation of the King's dream to mean that he, not the Pope, should be head of the Church manages to further both Cromwell's own interests and those of this cause.

Wolf Hall: Episode 1- Three Card Trick

"Never mind who that is. It's nobody."

So, how many different TV series am I blogging at the moment? Anyway, here's another one.

It's somewhat odd watching this so relatively soon after I blogged The Tudors, covering roughly the same historical period and therefore consisting of much the same event and the same characters portrayed by a different cast. There are significant differences, though. This is no melodrama but a serious adaptation of two works of literary fiction, and there's a more realistic attitude to sets and costume, and a. much artier directorial style. The use of candlelight for the indoor scenes is particularly superb.

This episode, centred on the beginning of Wolsey's fall but using extensively non-linear storytelling to make heavy use of flashbacks, introduces us to both Thomas Cronwell the fascinatingly nuanced character and to Mark Rylance, an actor of the very first rank who rarely deigns to appear on screen. He's every bit as good here as his theatrical reputation. Other stand-outs are a world-weary Jonathan Pryce as Wolsey and a delightfully sinister Mark Gatiss as Stephen Gardiner.

There's a lot of emphasis on class, Cromwell's humble beginnings and his lack of nobility- we even meet his abusive and very working class father. Indeed, it is Wolsey's earlier snobbery towards the Boleyn family that ultimately causes his downfall, or so it is strongly implied, although on the other hand we also get a rather handy bit of exposition from Gardiner about Charles V's Habsburg hordes marching on Rome to make the Pope their bitch, ensuring Henry VIII has sod all chance of divorcing Charles' aunt.

I'm sure this theme will continue to develop, as well as the obvious theme of the upcoming English Reformation. Cromwell's Protestant leanings are hidden for now; the irony of his being so loyal to the Cardinal is, I'm sure, not lost on a single viewer.

The main "event" of the episode is, of course, the sudden and horrible death of Cromwell's wife and two daughters from the sweating sickness. This is shot and acted in order to give us maximum sympathy for Cromwell. I hope none of us ever have to imagine such suffering. It's a superb sequence of scenes.

Things end on an uncertain note. Wolsey is, of course, finished, but has Cromwrll somehow saved his career by impressing the King by some intelligent cheekines? We shall see how it happens. But what is certain is that this promises to be a very impressive little series.

Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest (2006)

"This is a jar of dirt."

Sometimes conventional wisdom is correct and sequels are a bit rubbish. This isn't the worst film ever made (that would be There's Something About Mary), but it's a bit pants. 

It's too damn long, for a start. But this film, unlike the last, is utterly devoid of charm, relying on special effects and spectacle at the expense of charismatic characters or a decently structured script. The previous film had all of these faults to an extent, but this time they are all much worse. So much so, in fact, that even Johnny Depp can't save the film.

So, is there anything interesting to say about a film that offers very little but the worst of Jerry Bruckheimer bangs and noises? I suppose the vaguely racist scenes with the tribe on Tortuga are slightly entertaining. And we have a mythology fleshed out for Davy Jones and the Flying Dutchman, albeit one with very little basis in actual folklore. At least the kraken scenes look good.

But nothing can save this film; even Jack's death is muted in its impact due to the general rubbishness. Worse still, the film ends by threatening a sequel. God help us...

Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl (2003)

"Welcome to the Caribbean, love!"

I saw this film at the cinema, and enjoyed it then as much as I enjoyed it again now. Mark Kermode may not like it much, but it's a rollickingly enjoyable adventure film with a superbly charismatic turn from Johnny Depp, although I must admit it's bloody long. Keira Knightly is quite good too, and even the fact that the uber-wooden Orlando Bloom plays our Jim Hawkins figure doesn't ruin things. Not bad for a film based on a theme park ride.

Obviously the introductory scene with Jack Sparrow- from the moment he casually steps from the mast of his sinking ship on to dry land until his capture and inprisonment under sentence of hanging- is the best thing in the film, but things don't flag in spite of the fact that there's ages to go. There's lots of nice usage of the tropes of the pirate genre and a bit of the supernatural mixed in there too. The plot may show a few signs of having been written by committee, but the film is all about the set pieces. And they deliver. 

What really lifts this film, though, is the utterly magnificent performance of Johnny Depp; this is a premier example of a potentially average film being elevated by his star into something greater. Case in point: the scene where Jack and Elizabeth, marooned, get pissed together on an island works entirely because of his performance. We're all rooting for him, and it's fitting that he's allowed to flee at the end.

Thing is, though. How will the sequels stand up? After all, Mark Kermode has certainly slated them most entertainingly...