“DADDY...!”
I’m blogging rather more series than I usually would as the wife and I have started y and Good Omens while I’m also blogging The Prisoner and Inhumans. Time to finish at least one series off.
So, this is the final episode, if we ignore the sequel and, indeed, the American remake which I haven’t seen. It concludes, interestingly, very differently from the novel, with Urquhart successfully reaching the top of the greasiest pole in politics, and we have the fun of seeing him first take out his minor rivals for the leadership and then Woolton (a cassette tape of his affair with Penny- easy) and Samuels (lefty positions in his university day, including, shock horror, “pro-gay sentiments”) in quick succession.
There’s a lot more to it that that, of course. Urquhart’s announcement that he’s standing is swiftly followed by a tastefully shot sex scene in which Mattie shouts “Daddy!”, and he continues to manipulate her throughout, making her all contrite as he tells her off for apparently endangering herself with her investigations. This sort of thing could look like harmless kink in snatcher context but it isn’t- this is disturbing manipulation and gaslighting of a woman with real feelings to exploit, and Urquhart’s monologue to camera on father’s and daughters (I note he has no kids) is incredibly disturbing.
Also dealt on, rightly, is his cunning murder of Roger, full of deft manipulation, and I’m glad Roger’s moving Death is dwelt upon. He was a man of promise, once. Then cocaine happened. And his death leaves poor a Penny absolutely devastated, especially as she’s just dumped him.
But what lingers is his cold-blooded murder of Mattie, mere seconds as she’s told him “I love you, Daddy”. These four episodes are a perfect portrait of a psychopath, one with all the charm such people tend to possess. And Westminster is, I suspect, full of such personalities to this day.
Showing posts with label Paul Seed. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Paul Seed. Show all posts
Tuesday, 2 July 2019
Sunday, 30 June 2019
House of Cards: Episode 3
"His deepest need was that people should like him. An admirable trait, that... in a spaniel, or a whore. Not, I think, in a prime minister."
This episode, after we’ve seen the details of the PM’s fall, immediately moves beyond- there’s an emergency Cabinet meeting, introduced with one of Urquhart’s asides to camera, and that’s it; the PM has resigned, and the starting gun has fired on the leadership race- although I believe there’s a constitutional blunder here. Collingridge hasn’t resigned as PM yet, just announced he will be stepping down when the Tories elect a new leader. So why is he going to the Palace?
Still, it’s fun as ever to see the wheel turning. The departing PM, in his final Cabibet meeting, actually thanks Francis for his support. And Francis implicates the viewers into his scheming with our voyeurism- “Not feeling guilty, I hope?”.
Francis is, of course, not yet in a position to run and needs to manipulate others- not least the infatuated Mattie- into “persuading” him. Others are in a less happy position- Charles Coleridge is suicidal, and it’s interesting that we are given a script with the two brothers sobbing, collateral damage in Urquhart’s wake. This is contrasted with Francis kissing Mattie, the camera pulling away and.. well, the next time we see him he exclaims “No! There are some things a gentleman never discussed!” It’s a nice touch.
Francis still needs building up into a plausible candidate and the clock is ticking, as his dinner with newspaper proprietor Ben makes clear. But Francis has influence, manipulating Collingridge into making it a long contest to his own advantage. Meanwhile Mattie continues to investigate the PM’s fall, irritating those in high places, and ends up getting the sack in a remarkably and openly sexist way which, one hopes, would not fly these days. Worse, she gets a nasty shock with a brick through her window and a threatening note, and not even her friend John, well and truly friend-zones, can remove the fear. No; it falls to Francis to “comfort” her. And she calls him “Daddy”...!
This is a superb adaptation, metatextual, clever, and far deeper than the original novel.
This episode, after we’ve seen the details of the PM’s fall, immediately moves beyond- there’s an emergency Cabinet meeting, introduced with one of Urquhart’s asides to camera, and that’s it; the PM has resigned, and the starting gun has fired on the leadership race- although I believe there’s a constitutional blunder here. Collingridge hasn’t resigned as PM yet, just announced he will be stepping down when the Tories elect a new leader. So why is he going to the Palace?
Still, it’s fun as ever to see the wheel turning. The departing PM, in his final Cabibet meeting, actually thanks Francis for his support. And Francis implicates the viewers into his scheming with our voyeurism- “Not feeling guilty, I hope?”.
Francis is, of course, not yet in a position to run and needs to manipulate others- not least the infatuated Mattie- into “persuading” him. Others are in a less happy position- Charles Coleridge is suicidal, and it’s interesting that we are given a script with the two brothers sobbing, collateral damage in Urquhart’s wake. This is contrasted with Francis kissing Mattie, the camera pulling away and.. well, the next time we see him he exclaims “No! There are some things a gentleman never discussed!” It’s a nice touch.
Francis still needs building up into a plausible candidate and the clock is ticking, as his dinner with newspaper proprietor Ben makes clear. But Francis has influence, manipulating Collingridge into making it a long contest to his own advantage. Meanwhile Mattie continues to investigate the PM’s fall, irritating those in high places, and ends up getting the sack in a remarkably and openly sexist way which, one hopes, would not fly these days. Worse, she gets a nasty shock with a brick through her window and a threatening note, and not even her friend John, well and truly friend-zones, can remove the fear. No; it falls to Francis to “comfort” her. And she calls him “Daddy”...!
This is a superb adaptation, metatextual, clever, and far deeper than the original novel.
Thursday, 27 June 2019
House of Cards: Episode 2
"Would you be into quickies at all?"
If this were to be made today, perhaps- and I haven't seen the American remake with Kevin Spacey- there wouldn't be so much attention on ho the sausage was made. We'd likely jump cut straight from his downfall being plotted at the end of last episode to the PM's downfall. But in 1990 telly could be slower paced, at least sometimes. This episode is an example of why that can be a good thing.
In contrast to the twisty-turny plotting of the first episode, we are concerned here pretty much exclusively with the workings of Urquhart's plot to bring down Henry Collingridge and very little else- but it's gripping. And we get the usual fourth wall breaking stuff, with an early monologue by Francis doing a bit of that pheasant shooting stuff that was an unremarked-upon pastime of upper class Tories back then. 1990 was a long time ago, when twentysomething political researchers could plausibly be called Kevin and, as per last episode, there's a fair bit of misogyny directed towards Penny. Urquhart does, at least, criticise Patrick Woolton for being boorish, lecherous, anti-Semitic and racist while manipulating him, although there's more than a whiff of snobbery directed at this north country foreign secretary.
Urquhart's manipulating ways work on everyone, culminating in the PM being cruelly ambushed on telly, yet everyone seems to think he's a "good man". Indeed, Mattie seems to think he's not only the ablest man (and men they all are) in the Cabinet but that he's attractive- and, as we see, he has permission from his wife to sleep with her. Shagging is inevitable at this point.
Like the potboiler on which it's based, this is unputdownable telly. And Ian Richardson is incredible.
If this were to be made today, perhaps- and I haven't seen the American remake with Kevin Spacey- there wouldn't be so much attention on ho the sausage was made. We'd likely jump cut straight from his downfall being plotted at the end of last episode to the PM's downfall. But in 1990 telly could be slower paced, at least sometimes. This episode is an example of why that can be a good thing.
In contrast to the twisty-turny plotting of the first episode, we are concerned here pretty much exclusively with the workings of Urquhart's plot to bring down Henry Collingridge and very little else- but it's gripping. And we get the usual fourth wall breaking stuff, with an early monologue by Francis doing a bit of that pheasant shooting stuff that was an unremarked-upon pastime of upper class Tories back then. 1990 was a long time ago, when twentysomething political researchers could plausibly be called Kevin and, as per last episode, there's a fair bit of misogyny directed towards Penny. Urquhart does, at least, criticise Patrick Woolton for being boorish, lecherous, anti-Semitic and racist while manipulating him, although there's more than a whiff of snobbery directed at this north country foreign secretary.
Urquhart's manipulating ways work on everyone, culminating in the PM being cruelly ambushed on telly, yet everyone seems to think he's a "good man". Indeed, Mattie seems to think he's not only the ablest man (and men they all are) in the Cabinet but that he's attractive- and, as we see, he has permission from his wife to sleep with her. Shagging is inevitable at this point.
Like the potboiler on which it's based, this is unputdownable telly. And Ian Richardson is incredible.
Tuesday, 25 June 2019
House of Cards: Episode 1
"You may think that. I couldn't possibly comment..."
Long before Kevin Spacey was a household name, let alone disgraced, Ian Richardson became a household name through his extraordinarily sinister, fourth wall breaking, insidious performance as Francis Urquhart. I haven't seen this since that late Autumn of 1990 when Thatcher fell, the only prime minister I could remember. This TV adaptation of Michael Dobbs' potboiler of a novel cheekily alludes to her downfall in its opening shot, an early example of the visual wit that made this series a cut above the original novel.
Other differences are that the party in power is explicitly stated to be the Tories, an of course the asides to camera which give the whole thing both its structure and its intimacy. Urquhart is not just our antihero, he is our intimate guide to the dark arts of politics. If Mattie is seduced by his charms then so are we all, even an old Liberal like me.
It's an uncomfortable reminder of my age, though, that I remember lots of things that happened in 1990, but they did things differently then. Here we see casual sexism and homophobia in the corridors of power, MP's actually speaking in the Commons without notes, an all-male cabinet and smoking everywhere.
But the episode insists entirely of skulduggery and plotting, and all from our Chief Whip’s point of view as he manipulates the wet drip of a PM (although I not that Henry Collingridge, a “wet” Tory, is depicted as wet personally too), his cocaine using fixer, the Cabinet and, through Mattie, the press. The relationship with Mattie is interesting: in a sense he’s grooming her, all for his own benefit. We end with a manufactured scandal about to break and the PM set to fall...
Long before Kevin Spacey was a household name, let alone disgraced, Ian Richardson became a household name through his extraordinarily sinister, fourth wall breaking, insidious performance as Francis Urquhart. I haven't seen this since that late Autumn of 1990 when Thatcher fell, the only prime minister I could remember. This TV adaptation of Michael Dobbs' potboiler of a novel cheekily alludes to her downfall in its opening shot, an early example of the visual wit that made this series a cut above the original novel.
Other differences are that the party in power is explicitly stated to be the Tories, an of course the asides to camera which give the whole thing both its structure and its intimacy. Urquhart is not just our antihero, he is our intimate guide to the dark arts of politics. If Mattie is seduced by his charms then so are we all, even an old Liberal like me.
It's an uncomfortable reminder of my age, though, that I remember lots of things that happened in 1990, but they did things differently then. Here we see casual sexism and homophobia in the corridors of power, MP's actually speaking in the Commons without notes, an all-male cabinet and smoking everywhere.
But the episode insists entirely of skulduggery and plotting, and all from our Chief Whip’s point of view as he manipulates the wet drip of a PM (although I not that Henry Collingridge, a “wet” Tory, is depicted as wet personally too), his cocaine using fixer, the Cabinet and, through Mattie, the press. The relationship with Mattie is interesting: in a sense he’s grooming her, all for his own benefit. We end with a manufactured scandal about to break and the PM set to fall...
Monday, 17 August 2009
Doctor Who: The Ribos Operation
Part One
“What will happen to me if I refuse?”
“Nothing will happen to you. Nothing at all. Ever.”
The Doctor’s got a new K9! Hooray! And then the story starts with a bang as the TARDIS doors open in flight in a scene which is made brilliant by inspired use of lighting. The Doctor’s been summoned by… well, God, and he’s been charged with a quest to find the Holy Gra- er, Key to Time. I love the way that, instead of depicting something cosmic and expensive, they’ve just depicted the White Guardian as some colonial type bloke in a hat sitting in a deckchair, which works much better.
Instantly it’s clear that, after last season’s unevenness, much thought has been given to things behind the scenes. It’s not just the (fan cliché alert) “umbrella theme”; the new era has now firmly acquired a confident tone and style of its own- no more scares and bangs, but a cheaper, less violent (well, you can’t have everything…), wittier and more postmodern take on things. And the script which heralds the new era in its fully-fledged form for the first time is… Robert Holmes, a man heavily associated with the previous regime. It’s a funny old world.
Anyway, the Doctor has a new assistant, an imperious Time Lady called Romadvoratrelundar, and she’s fab, as is Mary Tamm. Her guilelessly arrogant ways are perfect for winding the Doctor up, and we can tell straightaway that she’s going to be fun. Oh, and rather sexy too.
Apart from introducing Romana, this scene cements something new about the series’ style- wonderfully witty dialogue which is allowed freer rein than before, being let loose more often on that fourth wall, and something different about Tom’s performance. We haven’t really seen his sombre side at all since Horror of Fang Rock, and his more whimsical nature has been staging a gradual takeover for some time, but following the events of The Invasion of Time there seems to be a final shift. The Doctor is now more consistently witty, less prone to introspection, but still with a strong moral centre. But mostly he’s much more fun. I like this new Tom. And the great thing is, what with the events of the last story you could almost at a push call it character development.
Amusingly, we’re told that the Doctor only scraped 51% at the academy on his second attempt. And Gallifrey has a new president, who must be someone we saw in The Invasion of Time as we hear the Doctor say “I should have thrown him to the Sontarans when I had the chance!” Who is it then? It’s not Borusa, for constitutional; reasons. Bet it’s Kelner!
Anyway, Ribos. It’s a well-realised, wintry planet with a mediaeval level of technology which also has the fortunate side effect of suggesting a cultural hinterland in the way that futuristic metal corridors just don’t. There’s a lot of casually excellent design work here. The necessary exposition is handled admirably by means of the highly entertaining, ahem, “Holmesian double act” of Garron (the superb Iain Cuthbertson) and Unstoffe and their intended scam on nasty old offworld nobleman the Graff Vynda K. This planet has two seasons, Suntime and the present season Icetime, both of which last 32 years. Brilliantly, it’s actually part of the interstellar Greater Cyrrhenian Empire, but given that it’s only a “level two” civilisation, the offworlders who actually rule the planet have to claim they’re from “the north” and not display any advanced technology for fear of breaking conservation laws!
I’m loving this already. Garron is a great Holmesian character, a futuristic Horatio Bottomley with great lines, and the set-up is fab. I shall not speak of the Shrivenzale.
Part Two
“You hang a bit of that around your neck and you won’t never suffer from the scringes, no matter how cold it be.”
I love the way our conmen speak in cod-Mummerset accents when they’re pretending to be locals, and the Doctor actually pointed this out at the end of last episode! I love Unstoffe’s speech, but Garron’s the real star of the two of them. It’s fantastic how Holmes, incredibly, gets him to persuade the captain of the guard to deposit a load of money with the crown jewels, and makes it seem plausible. And indeed the fact that, as the title suggests, this is the first time we get a Doctor Who story that is essentially a heist movie. After years of Hinchcliffe era horror movies, Doctor Who is now plundering different sources!
The relationship between the Doctor and Romana continues to be brilliant, too: “An academy graduate doesn’t need things explaining, surely?”
Part Three
“When you’ve faced death as often as I have, this is much more fun.”
I think the scene where the Graff slaps the Doctor, and the Doctor slaps him back, is definitely in the running for my favourite Tom moment ever. The Doctor and Romana are captured and imprisoned, but it’s an interesting example of what a great writer Holmes is that while in the hands of a little writer this perennial Who cliché could be tiresome, here it’s just a pretext for a fun little chat between the Doctor and Garron, a bit of character stuff for Romana and some exposition. And once all this is achieved K9 just comes and rescues everyone, leaving the situation no time at all to become tiresome. Masterful.
The scene with Binro the heretic is of course wonderful, and almost distracts from the fact that Unstoffe seems to have acquired an RP accent what with all the stress of being hunted by the Graff. Interestingly, the Seeker seems to have genuine powers, so precognition works, which is a bit dodgy.
Part Four
“Well, I admit I had a great struggle with me conscience. Fortunately I won.”
There are so many great things about this story. I love the way the Seeker’s frenzied and tuneless shriek is supposed to be hugely annoying!
We get a well-crafted and entertaining conclusion. Binro dies tragically, the Graff disintegrates realistically in a surprisingly well done piece of characterisation, and our heroes have the first segment of the Key to Time. Only five to go.
Flawless. 5/5 and a good one too, only just missing out on a top ten spot. Great script, great new tone, great new companion, Iain Cuthbertson and, most relievingly, no obvious problems with the production. Well, Shrivenzale aside.. It feels as though the problems of last season are behind us already. Can things stay at this level?
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