Robin of Sherwood: The King's Fool

 "We're his pets. The wolves clever Richard trapped and tamed."

I'm impressed. For the second episode in the row we riff on a traditional tale, this time the one where King Richard returns and pardons the outlaws and, indeed, at firat it appears that this is happening. The fact that this is the last episode of the series makes it feel plausible, and John Rhys Davies certainly has presence and charisma as King Richard- at once larger-than-life and utterly believable, not an easy combination.

Yet all, as ever, is not as it seems, and the episode gives us a fascinating meditation on the ethics of compromise versus not selling out... and comes down firmly on the side of the latter. If this episode were a band, it would refuse to join a major label or learn a fourth chord, and rightly so.

Robin, blinded by hope, is the last to see Richard for who he truly is: a warlord, who knows and wants only war. A king who spends little time in England and sees it only as a cash cow for his dynastic wars, wars in which he wishes to involve the merry men. Oh, it may seem at first that Robin has royal favour and the Sheriff does not, but the natural order soon reasserts itself.

The ending, too, is fascinating. Gisburne, surely, is dead. And at first, by the evocative surroundings of a stone circle (let us gloss over the fact that there are none in or near Nottinghamshire), it seems that Marian does too... yet, at the last we have the atmospheric, vaguely Celtic magic of Herne the Hunter. Let us not think too hard about the provenance of these myths, shall we?

A triumphant ending to a promising first season. I'll shortly be resuming with series two, but first I'll be doing something else in this "slot"...

Robin of Sherwood: Alan a Dale

 "It's a wedding, Gisburne. Not a celebration.."

I rather enjoyed this episode, perhaps the best yet. Nickolas Grace really is growing into the part of a properly moustache-twirningly evil Sheriff, and the script this week particularly sparkles with more than the usual level of humour.

This is based around a fairly straight retelling of the tale of Alan a Dale (is it just me who now has the song from that sketch by Peter Cook and Dudley Moore as an earworm?), although it must be noted that Mildred is sixteen years old, barely legal and, indeed, quite illegal in many other jurisdictions. Not only the Sheriff but also Alan are borderline nonces, and Robin and his Merry Men are all complicit in a marriage that is borderline noncery. But yes, moving very swifty on...

All the characters by this point are fully realised. Gisburne as the Sheriff's bullied dogsbody. John as the good natured randy type who is doing it with Meg. Will cynical as ever. Friar Tuck the merriest of the lot but very astute, being a churchman, as to what's going on politically.

The conclusion, and rescue of Mildred, is clever and entertaining, however jammy it may be that it worked. And yet the Sheriff contrives to be the ultimate winner, a nice touch.

One more episode to go and the first season is already over. We're almost a quarter of the way through already. This is brewing away very nicely indeed.

Robin of Sherwood: Seven Poor Knights from Acre

 "You'll get too big foryour boots, you will."

"Then I'll get bigger boots."

This episode impressed me. In theory, I'm annoyed by stories in which someone is famsely suspected of something they didn't do: it's frustrating , and the frustration tends to overwhelm any sense of drama or peril unless handled with great care. And here we seem to have a tale in which seven crusading knights- looking very, very High Middle Ages- falsely suspect Robin and his outlaws of stealing some fancy MacGuffin.

But that's not the point at all, really. The episode deconstructs the idea of the crusading knight. Friar Tuck pretty much tells us that, yes, they're fighting monks, with a vow of poverty and everything, Yet they are violent,pitiless, overbearing, known for massacring both "Saracens" and Jews. Even the Sheriff is wary of these vioilent warriors who are accountable to no one but the Pope himself.

The pace is slow in places, Marian and most of the Merry Men are sidelined a bit, and that same old incidental music is getting a bit samey. Yet it's all so well shot in its action sequences and the look is so wonderfully gritty. There are moments that really hit home- the Sheriff deciding to put out Siward's remaining eye for thieving in particular. Yet the episode works, and it's truly rewarding to see the knights getting their comeuppance.

Robin of Sherwood: The Witch of Elsdon

 "If she wanted to bewitch me, I'd be inclined to let her."

Given the intensity of the first two-parter, it's fascinating to see an "episode of the week". The plot is simple enough, and quite appalling... poor Jennet is accused of witchcraft for not submitting to rape by a Norman piece of ****, has to make impossible compromises because of her husband being in the Sheriff's power and being under threat of death by torture... but she's a good woman.

One small problem: it wasn't until much later in mediaeval England that beliefvin witchcraft was a thing amongst the educated, which in those days meant the Church. Witchcraft was superstition. St Augustine said so. But anyway...

I like the very '80s opening, the dream, very New Age, with Gisburne featuring prominently. It feels at once of its time and very 11th century, that semi-pagan age of Norman apartheid and English distress of a kind we would one day inflict on others. 

It's instructive to see how tax collectors were viewed in the age of feaudalism. No welfare state here, monasteries aside. Just Norman racist greed. The English, subject to such racism, resolved never again to be so, um...

I like the character stuff between Robin and Marian, echoed by Ennet's experiences: Marian is nit a precious jewel. She has agency. She is a person. The Sheriff, meanwhile, expels all Jews from Nottingham as he twirls his moustache.

This is, I suppose, our first "normal" episode. But it succeeds, being both fun and disturbing.

Robin of Sherwood: Robin Hood and the Sorcerer, Part 2

 "If I should fail, one of you shall take my place, and Herne shall choose him."

A confession, dear readers: I watched the wrong bloody episode. I saw the first episode a couple of months ago, ahem, somewhere, but stopped there as the second episode didn't have subtitles. Now Robin of Sherwood is on Britbox, though. I can carry on. Hooray. But I forgot I hadn't seen this second part so yesterday I watched the episode after this. Today I've finally seen this second part and I can blog them both in order. Bloody annoying, though. Grr.

Anyway, there's so much to fascinate here. I'm loving the direction, the lived-in mediaeval look, yet contrasting with a very '80s mystical paganism that goes beyong the Clannad soundtrack. Herne the Hunter is fascinating. The legend isn't as old as you think, with no evidence beyond Shakespeare's Merry Wives of Windsor. But here he champions the English against the Normans, their ancient protector, his muythical arrow kept by Robin's father. Ironically, the Normans mention Gildas. Gildas, of course, was no friend of Angles or Saxons.

The vaguely pagan/devil-worshipping baron is fascinating; it doesn't feel as though this series is going to be heavily fantasy-based, but this is a world where dark magic exists. Yet so does hope, humanity and a genuinely Robin Hood feel, this time including that famous and almost cliched archery contest.

Nazir is interesting, too- a friend? He is, I believe, the accidental beginning of a new tradition of including a Muslim man from the Levant among the Merry Men. The romance between Robin and Marian is already going at full pelt, and the chemistry is great. Interestingly, Michael Praed is far from a conventional hero, but it works.

This is a strong start and, it seems so far, a strong foundation.

Robin of Sherwood: Robin Hood and the Sorcerer, Part 1

 "Beware the Horned One!"

I dimly remember reading the comic strip in Look-In in the mid-'80s, of which I remember nothing, but until tonight I'd never seen an episode of Robin of Sherwood, though its reputation precedes it.

It's fascinating to see what was in the zeitgeist in 1984: Herne the Hunter features prominently in The Box of Delights too, albeit the subtext of his being Woden- god and protector of the downtrodden English- is more explicitly present. We have a magic sword, a New Age score by Clannad, Robin's iconic duel with Little John involving mystical possession. 

And yet... the way this is shot, acted, written, is grim and gritty. This is not the clean, fantasy Middle Ages of Errol Flynn; this is a dirty, lived-in Norman England, a place of despair and unspeakable tyranny where the Norman lords, universally, are cynical, world-weary and cruel and the English, up until now, are meek and downtrodden. It's all so very well thought through. Yet the effect is far from a Flynn-style swashbuckler. This is both action adventure and drama. And, yeah, with that fascinating mystical pagan twinge.

One slight criticism: this is Sherwood Forest, which bestrides Nottinghamshire and the South Riding. So what's the stone circle? Why so many southern accents? 

That aside, though, this is extraordinary. I'm hooked.

Catweazle: Season 1, Episode 13- The Trickery Lantern

 "Well, one can't desert a brother when he's put a fork through his foot."

So that's it, certainly for this season. This has bee a decent little quirky kids' farcical comedy, but I can't say it's more than quite good, or is particularly worth watching for those, like myself, with no particular nostalgic memories of the programme. It is, at this point, by no means certain that I will eventually blog the second series. It's more Sapphire and Steel first.

This final episode is different from the various farces that preceded it in that this is the episode where Catweazle- suddenly, after a much underexplained epiphany at the end of next episode- knows how to get back to the th century just like that. It feels very much as though he's doing this just because the series is ending, which he literally is. But at least we finally have an episode where the reset button won't just be pushed at the end.

It's also nice, and unexpected, to see a young-looking Nana Moon from EastEnders as Flo, George's ghost-obsessed sister, who seems to recognise Catweazle as a ghost from her childhood- it's a shame the episode doesn't end with Catweazle travelling back only forty years to meet her as a little girl.

So thar's it. I'm almost as shocked as Carrot to see Catweazle go. I assume the next series doesn't have quite the same premise?

Go on then. I'll watch the next season if anyone can persuade me it's worth my while!

Catweazle: Season 1, Episode 12- The Wisdom of Solomon

 "My mum's cousin had a horse that looked like that once. We had to shoot it."

This penultimate episode of the series is the best we've had in a while. Patricia Hayes is splendidly awful as the vile Mrs Skinner, whom George has hired as a housekeeper along with her equally loathsome son Arthur who goes to school with Carrot (their uniforms have caps.which dates the episode just as much as the reference to ten bob), and threatens to ruin and expose everything. They are by far the modt effectively evil baddies we've had so far, and the theatrically passive-aggressive Mrs Skinner is a masterful creation.

Their nastiness makes their inevitable comeuppance at Catweazle's hands all the more enjoyable.

This all even leads to permanent changes- Castle Saburac is no longer available, while Catweazle has an idea, involving water. I somehow suspect he won't be arund much longer, and I'll be able to replace Catweazle with the second series of Sapphire & Steel...

Catweazle: Season 1, Episode 10- The House of the Sorcerer

 "Canst thou wind me back?"

It's still all farce... but this is a better episode. Yes, it concerns an an eccentric wildlife obsessive, a nice little guest part for Bernard Hepton, who is mistaken, inevitably, for a wizard by Catweazle, with predictable farcical hijinks ensuing. But there's also an amusing little scene where Sam quits, and both he and George dissolve into childish argument in what is a rather good little bit of character comedy. Will he get his old job back after the end?

The best bit, of course, is a glimpse at life in 1970, hence the hijinks with tape- and, with some jealously, how easy it seems to be to casually quit a job and start a new one. Overall, though, there's not much going on here.

Catweazle: Season 1, Episode 8- The Power of Adamcos

 "I am doomed!"

"Here, have some more brandy."

Now that's much better. This whole episode is pretty much just a farce about Caweazle losing his dagger, Adamcos, and the hilarious goings-on in retrieving it, but it's amusing enough, and Geoffrey Bayldon carries the whole thing as ever.

The comedy has some nicely done moments too- Catweazle trying to use the "telling bone" from last episode, and Mr Milton fainting as a figure rises from the sarcophagus. And of course it's fun to see Catweazle running from "Normans", however contrived the explanation.

What really stands out, though, and reminds you that this is 1970, is the fact that George is so casually unbothered about Carrot being off somewhere and not panicking as a parent would today. Also there's the casually unbothered attitude towards knives (they're for whittling, not stabbing!) and the incredibly camp, very Julian and Sandy antiques dealer played by Aubrey Morris at a time where being camp was fine but actual gay sex had been illegal just three years previously. As ever with Catweazle, what really fascinates is the social mores of fifty years ago.

And yes, I am offended by the fact that 1970 was fifty-one years ago...

Catweazle: Season 1, Episode 7- The Telling Bone

 "Though braying bolster! Thou black beehive!"

This episode is... well, more of the same. It's another farce, as Catweazle's spell goes wrong and he ends up not in the 11th century but hanging precariously on to a church spire, where he meets the vicar (Mr Barraclough from Porridge) and a series of comical misunderstandings ensue, mostly based around the telephone.

Also, Sam has a vintage car, which he gots for £10 and which Mr Bennet disparages as an old banger. I suppose, in 1970, it would be the equivalent of an old '80s banger. But all we get is by-the-book farce and comedy based on Sam's mother being a bit of a battleaxe. Bayldon is wonderful, as ever, and so is Brian Wilde. But this episode is a bit of a pointless misfire. Kids' telly should aim higher than this.

Catweazle: Season 1, Episode 6- The Magic Face

 "Such an English face!"

This is, perhaps, one of the more bog standard episodes with little to make it stand out. Even the plot, an American photographer (and isn't it amusing these days to see film having to be developed, much as the quality was generally better?) taking a picture of Catweazle and his thinking that he is therefore her slave, is humdrum. The fact that Mrs Derringer is such a stereotypical American also helps to give the impression that rather less care was taken with this script than some of the others.

Still, whatever else is going on and in spite of the unremarkableness of the episode, Geoffrey Bayldon continues to be eminently watchable and charismatic, as even Mrs Derringer can see. 

Two shillings an hour to wash a car, that's slavery, though...

Catweazle: Season 1, Episode 5- The Eye of Time

) "Thou ass-eared turnspit!"

I know I've done several episodes of Catweazle in a row and seem to be procrastnating over the last ever episode of Life on Mars. Bear with me; things are a bit hectic. Catweazle is short so it's something I can just about manage to blog when time is short. Life on Mars concludes soon, then other stuff will follow.

This is a fine little episode, amusing as ever with Catweazle getting some truly splendid dialogue for the mighty Geoffrey Bayldon to deliver. Even better, the wonderful, extremely funny and actually rather sexy Hattie Jacques is in this in a nice little role as a fortune teller in cahoots with the local betting shop. Catweazle has her number in a wonderful scene in which the two of them get to spar magnificently. It's a real treat to get a guest star of this calibre. In theory, with Catweazle being able to predict every horse race, he and Carrot can become millionaires and lead a life of luxury- but dad says no, and that's that. And Catweazle, for some reason, still wants to return to his extremely unpleasant time.

Yet again it's fascinating, fifty years on (this was filmed in late 1969) to see a Britain in which bets are "five bob" each way and a fortune telling is "seven and six".

Catweazle: Season 1, Episode 4- The Witching Hour

 "I say, they boy's hair needs a jolly old cut!"

I'm not saying this is the greatest television programme ever or anything- it's a kids' show from the Light Channel- but I thoroughly enjoyed this episode. On the surface it's a fun little farce based on a bit of misdirection- Carrot thinks his dad is going to marry the rich Miss Bonington to save the farm, but actually she's just an influential councillor whom George (his dad has a name!) needs planning permission and not, in fact, a "shrew".

It's fun, it's splendid stuff, but there are all sorts of questions. Is the farm in financial trouble? Is Carrot's family (what happened to his mum?) landed gentry who are now falling on hard times? Why, for that matter, is Catweazle (still with Rapkyn's spellbook) want to travel back to his own unpleasant time, full of nasty racist Normans, rather than stay in 1970 where nobody wants to kill him? I approve of Catweazle's view of hairdressers as "monstrous", though. Hair is, indeed, magic. Mrs Llamastrangler gives me a very slight trim every six months, whether I need it or not. That's enough for anyone.

But, as ever, much of the attraction is gawking at domestic life in 1970. The HP Sauce bottle. The cars. The fashions in the hairdressers. The glimpse of the high street, including a Spar. This programme may not be the deepest stuff ever, but it's such fun.

Catweazle: Season 1, Episode 3- The Curse of Rapkyn

  "'Tis all here, Touchwood. Here lies our way back!"

Another fun little episode here as Catweaze discovers a curse on the farm, helps Carrot get rid of it while getting into a series of scrapes while ending up with a spellbook at the end.

There's more slapstick humour, which works well and showcases Geoffrey Bayldon's comic talent as, among other things, he chases Touchwood around the museum as a bunch of schoolgirls- and their teachers- scream at the toad. There's also a highly enjoyable guest spot from a pre-Last of the Summer Wine Peter Salls who, this time, leaves the Yorkshire vowels to Catweazle.

It's also amusing, half a century later, to see £800 referred to as a massive amount of money, and reassuring that no one seems remotely bothered by the references to Beelzebub and Lucifer, amongst various pagan entities. You certainly wouldn't get away with that on kids' TV today.

It's easy viewing, yes- it's old kids' TV- but I'm enjoying this.

Catweazle: Season 1, Episode 2- Castle Saburac

 "Thou be-skandered newt!"

The bulk of this episode had me wondering how the format was ever going to settle down. There’s plenty of entertaining slapstick humour, and Geoffrey Bayldon’s charisma and comic talents are if anything even more impressive on this second outing, but is every episode going to consist of Carrot trying to hide Catweazle from Sam (who is definitely suspicious) and his dad?

Thankfully, by the end, it appears not, as Catweazle has set himself up in an empty water tower, with his toad Touchwood to boot. This will hopefully increase the diversity of stories that can be told as we settle Ito episodes of the week.

Now that we know this slapstick format isn’t what the show is going to be, it’s all rather fun, and Neil McCarthy is rather good too. It’s also fun to see domestic life in 1969, in the early months of colour telly on ITV- it’s a delight to see such things as a contemporary bottle of HP sauce. I think I’ll enjoy this.

And yes, I k is I wasn’t necessarily going to blog this so soon but I have access now, so why not? Both of my existing series are about to end soon, and Catweazle has short episodes which I, being not exactly tim-rich these days, can manage to blog when there isn't time for anything longer. Expect to see Catweazle quite regularly from now on.

Catweazle: Series 1, Episode 1- The Sun in a Bottle

 "I'll feed thee anon, bizzlegut!"

Fear not; I'm stil blogging the usual stuff, I just needed something short to fill limited time. So this isn't, at least for now, the start of me blogging all of Catweazle, not least because Britbox only has this episode.

It's a fun little kids' show, though; the fashions and, especially, the cartoon opening titles, reveal this to be a fifty year old television programme, but it's a wonder to behold. I can't begin to imagine anything like this being made today, party because it's very noticeably an all-male cast (did nobody notice?), but because fun, intelligent, whimsical, live action telly for children is a thing of the past.

This is an entertaining and successful introductory episode in that it introduces Catweazle- a wizard from 11th century England, shortly after the Conquest, who finds himself in a spot of bother with a bunch of Normans speaking a suspiciously modern, Parisian French and then, via some kind of magic, a barn somewhere in the West Country in the age of Harold Wilson and Jimi Hendrix. It's quite a culture shock, and we have some fun with tractors end electric lights while establishing his friendship with young Carrot, and that he's to be kept a secret.I think we probably ought to gloss over the fact that modern English and old English are certainly not mutually intelligible.

But there are two things which are truly wonderful. One is Gorffrey Bayldon's extraordinary charismatic performance, bonkers yet mesmerising from the first scene as a character who nicely taps into that contemporary counterculture fascination with a pagan past- never mind that pre-conquest England was nothing of the sort. And the other, despite the historical nonsense of having Catweazle speak a kind of cod-Shakespearan early modern English from much closer to our time than his, is the poetic richness of the dialogue.

One day, I hope, I shall see more.