The Imitation Game (2014)

 "You just defeated Nazism with a crossword puzzle..."

I've been waiting to see this film for years. It's very good: Alan Turing deserved a biopic, amd he needed to wait until an age where homophobia, if not cured, is at least disapproved of by the law. If only we could say the same of transphobia.

Benedict Cumberbatch is extraordinary. Keira Knighlley is good. Allen Leach is subtly superb as John Cairncross, a Soviet spy and one of the Cambridge Five. Bloody traitor, and blackmailer to boot. His development is very clever indeed. Mark Strong is perfect casting as Stewart Menzies, or C.

This ois a fairly standard film, not brilliant by any means, The script and plot are pedestrian. Yet the themes are huge: the appaling treatment, of gay men in the '40s and '50s; the fat that those who persecuted this war hero were traitors; and, most clearly, autism.

Turing's life was tragic. Deeply so. Cumberbatch shows this so well. Yet his genius shines through here, with allusions to the Turing Test. And, as important as the injustice dine to this British hero because of his sexuality may be, he is portrayed here quite explicitly as autistic. And that may well describe the man. But we should not assume either way. Whether autistic or living with metaphor-loving allistic behaviour like myself, we all owe a huge debt to the real Alan Turing. For our computing, and for our freedom. 

The film is... ok. But Cumberbatch is superb.

The Crown: Season 2, Episode 10- Mystery Man

“You are a mystery man to me.”

It’s a bit of a jump forward to 1962, and this episode covers two years of time, but then again this is the last outing with this wonderful cast. I think we would be churlish to begrudge them at least one episode where, although there’s no swinging as yet, it is at least beginning to feel like the Sixties.

This is, as ever, a dense and thought-provoking episode, hinging on the Profumo scandal but not so much about it as riffing on it. Most obviously, there’s the unresolved question of whether the “mystery man” photographed at one of Stephen Ward’s parties is Philip or not, his increased absences at house parties and the like, and the question of whether he is playing away. It’s left ambiguous, even after the wonderfully acted confrontation scene near the end when the Queen shows him the locket he saw in his case all those years ago- and we still are left none the wiser. This kind of ambiguity is probably wise.

We also get a good sense of how social mores are changing- the satire boom is in full swing and Beyond the Fringe (if you haven’t seen it, do so; it’s extraordinary) mocks the establishment in new ways, and Macmillan’s humiliation as he watches it in stage is nicely juxtaposed with the pompously conservative, snobbish and implicitly homophobic prosecution speech at Stephen Ward’d trial, leading to his suicide- exactly the kind of vicious arrogance that needed doing away with. It was this, rather than particularly Macmillan, that needed to be swept away.

Speaking of Macmillan, this series has not been kind to him. I’m no Tory, but I’d say he’s the best peacetime Tory prime minister of the twentieth century- moderate, sensibly centrist in his opinions, a steady hand with colonialism. Yes, his resignation was more due to being fed up with it all than his ill health, but I’ve no doubt six years as PM is exhausting. The Queen’s rant at him for being a quitter here is uncalled for, but I suppose the point is that she doesn’t have the luxury of resignation. It’s an interesting scene to include.

We end with a new royal birth and a kind of deconstructed mise en scene as Cecil Beaton takes another photograph to end a second superb season. I’ll be blogging the next season very soon indeed.

The Crown: Season 2, Episode 7- Matrimonium

"As in art, so, it would appear, in life..."

Again we have a Margaret episode and, again, there is much subtlety and character development. Like ast episode, the plot is simple; Margaret is to marry Tony who, we now see, is sectretly carrying on polyamorous relationships with both sexes and, moreover, is rather more damaged than he might appear. Yet Elizabeth, even after hearing the truth from Tommy Lascelles- again brought out of retirement to do what Michael cannot- is unable, after what happened with Peter Townsend, to say no. And the baby to whom she gives birth here will one day be mixed up with sexual doings that are a thousand times worse.

The episode abounds, as ever, with lovely character moments on which we can dwell as we hope that Margaret won't get hurt. The scene between Margaret and Elizabeth at the end is fascinating- Margaret wants freedom and independence, and is marrying this man as part of that. Yet she, unlike the Queen, enjos the titles and the deference and will never give up those things- a necessary precondition for any royal to break free of their life sentence in a gilded cage.

We get an outburst from Philip, last season a victim of snobbery himself, yet looking down on Tony who, unlike hilself, is not the grandson of a king and a prince in his own right. Fascinatingly, we learn that the womanising Tony is the son of a vaguely neglectful mother who left his commoner father to marry an earl, and his younger half-brother outranks him- until he marries Margaret. Deliciously, we hear this as Tony, along with the Frys with whom he is having a bisexual menage a trois, watches the results of the 1959 election as Supermac crushes all before him in a country that has never had it so good.

It is also jarring to see Macmillan lead the Cabinet in prayer upon hearing of the royal baby. 1959 was a different world, albeit a changing one, more religious than ours on the surface- but perhaps not much deeper than that; and where conservative social mores on the surface are not applied to the discreet elite.

A superb hour of drama, as always.

The Crown: Season 2, Episode 4- Beryl

“The surface is so dreary, don’t you think?”

This is a superb bit of telly. On one level, it’s a Margaret episode, allowing the royal couple to fade a little into the ensemble. One another, it’s far deeper and more interesting.

We see some development of Elizabeth and Philip as they make the best of things and settle down into their very humdrum married life of duty. Marriage is a theme, as Harold Macmillan uses the metaphor to refer to the fractured post-Suez Transatlantic partnership- but, as we discover, his wife is openly having an affair with the Prime Minister as a knowing and emasculates cuckold. As his wife says of him, “His weakness repels next, his love disgusts me.”

For Margaret, it seems, there can be no wedded bliss, as her latest potential fiancé humiliates her. Only by venturing into a freer world, the fascinating Bohemia of Fifties London with its Angry Young Men, artistic ferments and upcoming ventures Beyond the Fringe, does the discover a measure of freedom from her gilded but oh-so-restrictive cage. And she meets, in avant garde photographer Tony Armstrong-Jones, not only a potential love interest but an exciting entry into a much less dreary world.

What’s particularly wonderful about this episode partly set in arty Bohemia- with cameos from Ken Russell, Dudley Moore, Johns Profumo and Betjeman, and no doubt others- is that the cinematography is as creative and unconventional as anything in Tony’s studio, and Vanessa Kirby shines. A finely crafted episode.

Watchmen (2009)

"Never compromise. Not even in the face of Armageddon.

Never have I been so favourably surprised by a film. Yes, Alan Moore refused to be associated with it for the usual (understandable) reasons and yes, Watchmen is as much about its form as its content, and form doesn't translate to other media. But that doesn't make it unfilmable, and I'd say this is the best possible cinematic version of Watchmen. The characters, the plot, the aesthetic- barring a major departure for the ending of the film it's an extremely faithful adaptation.

The cast, none of whom are huge stars, are perfect with the exception of Matthew  Goode, whose American accent is deeply unconvincing- and I'm a Brit. Jackie Earle Haley, so rubbish as Freddy Krueger in the remake of A Nightmare on Elm Street, is a revelation as Rorschach, seemingly born to play the role.

I won't comment on the plot other than to urge people to read the original, but the film made me ponder the contrast between the Comedian and Rorschach, both dangerous Far Right borderline Nazis but very different. Not only is the Comedian a completely amoral bastard but we're further alienated from him by the fact that his place in the narrative is to be seen and understood through other characters, not on his own terms: we see his exterior actions, and subjective versions at that. It's quite a contrast from the way we are made privy, through the device of the diary, to Rirschach's interior monologue. Both are psychopaths but we are made privy to Rorschach's poor and unpleasant upbringing, while his misogyny and distrust of sex strongly imply that he is, definitely unlike Edward Blake, a virgin. And yet... both are equally reactionary and equally psychopathic. So why does Moore allow us to, if not like Rorschach, feel empathy for him, and accept him in the narrative space of the hero? I suspect it's because of the gulf in terms of social class and status between the two.

On a more prosaic note, the shifting patterns on Rorschach's face look amazing. As does the whole film, brilliantly realising Dave Gibbon's visual aesthetic. It doesn't quite have the depth of the original- that would be unfair to expect-but there's still so much to say about authoritarianism, about misogyny, about nuclear weapons, about poverty, about how superheroes in real life would be Nietzchean Supermen, not a liberal wish fulfilment figure dreamed up by two Jewish creators in the year of Kristallnacht, sadly.

This is easily the best superhero film I've ever seen, but then, the source material is sublime.