Sunday, 28 September 2014

Grimm: Goodnight, Sweet Grimm

"To be continued. Oh, come on- you knew this was coming!"

At last the season finale. For once it feels as though things are in flux and things may not necessarily just return to the status quo, especially as we end with the inevitable cliffhanger.

Thinks begin quite slow and low-key, as Nick and Juliette continue to fall in love again and Sean Renard continues to spy on his brother, who wants the key. Adalind, meanwhile, in her own separate sub-plot, prepares a rather evil body swap with Frau Pech, leading to the latter's demise. 

We get some background between brothers Sean and Eric; Eric's mother tried to kill Sean's, and Sean had to leave Geneva at thirteen. It's an awkward conversation as the two of them circle warily around each other.

Things are more pleasant with Nick and Juliette, as for the first time he tells her about his day, zombies and all, and she involves herself in the case, her skills as a vet eventually proving useful. This is a huge turning point for both their relationship and the show's status quo.

The fight against the zombies becomes desperate, however, as Nick is infected by Baron Samedi and sealed into a coffin.

Grimm: The Waking Dead

"How did they come up with the name, do you suppose? They have a port. They have land. Really put a lot of thought into that one..."

The season will be over at the end of next episode, so we'd better get on with the arc plot; after an unusually long "previously on" we turn to the pregnant Adalind, planning to get her powers back but, at the moment, busy shagging Prince Eric Renard until his dad the King calls at an awkward moment. And there's a nice brief moment of domestic bliss for Juliette and Nick. Then we get the zombies.

The zombies are fun. I love the sight of seeing Grimm forget its usual format and just wallow in zombie tropes. This being Grimm, though, the cultural source of the zombie meme is remembered, so we get a suitably voodoo Haitian chap called (what else?) Baron Samedi. We know from very early on that this is going to be a good 'un. And all this is juxtaposed with a bizarre, episode-long magic spell in which Adalind succeeds in regaining her powers.

Another subplot, our little bit of comedy to counterpoint the epic, features Juliette diving headlong into Wesen lore and insisting on seeing all of her friendly neighbourhood Wesen with their bestial faces. But it's all about the zombies, Baron Samedi and their employer Prince Eric, all of whom touch down in Portland, sparking off a zombie outbreak. We've had the set-up; time for the season finale. ..


Grimm: Kiss of the Muse

"What did I miss?"

"The usual- the Devil, a couple of space aliens..."

Hank is back from Hawaii, on crutches; one suspects, given his recent absence, that Russell Hornsby has had some kind of accident that has been transferred to his character. Still, it's good to have him back, especially so close to the end of the season. 

Juliette is anxious to get back together with Nick, and invites him on a date. Unfortunately, however, this week's Wesen baddie is a succubus of some kind. The Wesen plot here is, frankly, rather predictable and tiresome, as is the annoying and artificial friction generated between Juliette and Nick.

Still, at least Rosalie gets to see Nick's trailer for thriftiest time as she, Monroe and Hank try and find a cure for Nick. The baddie in question is a creature from Irish mythology with a Van Gogh connection(!), but at least the episode ends on a high; it's finally revealed to all and sundry that Juliette knows what Wesen are, and she saves Nick's bacon before the two lovers hug, a couple again. Aaah!

Saturday, 27 September 2014

Doctor Who: The Caretaker

"Human beings have incredibly short lifespans. Frankly, you should all be in a permanent state of panic."

I'm sure this episode is going to divide opinion as much of this season has, being that the (excellent) alien menace is somewhat in the background while the foreground is firmly hogged by the relationship drama between Clara, Danny and the Doctor as disapproving father figure. Well, I loved it, and as far as I'm concerned this continues to be the best season since the days of Christopher Eccleston. All this, and a ridiculous number of tributes to An Unearthly Child too.

We begin with the juxtaposition of Clara's exciting adventures "eloping" with the Doctor and her rather more traditional dates with Danny, setting us up for an episode in which Danny and the Doctor meet- and that, rather than the brilliantly designed and scary-looking Skovox Blitzer, is what the episode is about in a joyous mix of romantic comedy and serious drama as befits the talents of Gareth Roberts although, once more, we get an "and Steven Moffat". 

The long pre-credits sequence is brilliant and ends predictably but perfectly on the revelation of the school's new caretaker in a way which reminds me of the beginning to School Reunion. But this, of course, is Coal Hill, and not only to we have Clara and Danny as the Ian and Barbara of 2014 but also a policeman going into a junkyard for which I'm fairly sure I could guess the postal address. Even the junk inside recalls the scenes inside 76 Totters Lane half a century ago. But this policeman is not so lucky, and ends up in the afterlife/promised land/ Worldsphere. Policing just ain't Dixon of Dock Green any more.

The Doctor's prejudices ("I hate soldiers. Don't you just hate soldiers?") are obvious during his first meeting with Danny, and he never shakes off the idea that an ex-soldier must be thick and therefore a PE teacher. The script deliberately paints him as both unlikeable in the wrong, and takes care to portray Danny as nice, reliable, brave and, well, Ian Chesterton-like. Danny is, of course, right to finger the Doctor as "officer class", someone who can inspire his men to do what needs to be done, and he's also right, after earning the Doctor's grudging respect by saving the world, to warn Clara not to let him push her too far, or they're finished. 

This is both blatantly foreshadowing something for later in the season and a shrewd character analysis of the Doctor. Of course this veteran of the Time War is a soldier, and his prejudice is simply self-loathing. Indeed, we examines these themes with Tennant during Season 30, with his aversion to guns, soldiering and UNIT being foregrounded. And yet he went to his final battle with Rassilon armed with Wilf's gun, symbolising that, much as he may hate it, deep down, this Time War veteran is very much a soldier.

On a lighter note, we also get to meet Courney Woods, the disruptive pupil of whom we have heard before; I'm sure we haven't heard the last of her. The parallels to one Susan Foreman are obvious, and I love the way she immediately vomits after the Doctor shows her the stars.

This episode is superb, but I fear there will be many who dislike it's strong focus on the arc plot and the foregrounding of character drama over monsters and danger. I hope I'm wrong. Time to brave the internet...

Tuesday, 23 September 2014

Cilla, Part 2

"Come and give me a cuddle. And stop sulking."

Once again this is a bit of Feelgood fun and not exactly high art, but for what it is it's brill. Yes, it's somewhat predictable that this episode should end with Cilla finally getting success with her first number one single and yes, you can predict every beat of the drama. But who cares, frankly?

Sheridan Smith is again brilliant at both singing and acting. I shall leave the judgement of her Liverpudlian accent to those more qualified. And the period is, again, brilliantly reconstructed both visually and socially. The scenes of Brian Epstein's awkwardness within London's gay scene, in a time not only before legalisation but before Julian and Sandy, are poignant. And again we have sectarianism, with contrasts; Bob cannot live at home because he's with a Catholic girl, yet Cilla's parent come to accept Bob, seeing past his Catholicism.

Another big theme, of course, is class, especially between the delightfully common Cilla and the relatively posh and gentlemanly George Martin; we are even given a scene focusing on her accent while singing. Ed Stoppard, incidentally, is superb as Martin, a rather complex figure in his combination. Of old-fashioned gentlemanly mannerisms and innovation on the studio. Still, there's a clash between him and Bob, who isn't happy with the choice of a decidedly non-rock 'n' roll song from Dionne Warwick. 

We end, having seen the contrast between Liverpool and the showbiz world of That London, with a montage of all the characters we've seen hearing "All Kinds of Everything", including two very proud parents. But will success spoil Priscilla White...?

Sunday, 21 September 2014

Grimm: Endangered

"You get your blues, your greys, and your reptilians from Andromeda."

This one'a quite sweet, really; a destitute young expectant couple, hunted for their metaphorical ivory, who are the last of their Wesen species. It's also one of the longest "Previously On"'s so far. It's a rather average episode, though, again overshadowed by the more interesting arc stuff, especially Juliette receiving a tour of her returning memories. I like the UFO nut though.

We get the exposition about the key again, via Monroe; it's one of seven, which will, when combined, show a 12th century treasure map for stuff nicked in the Sack of Constantinople in 1204. Monroe sees what it shows; part of the Black Forest in Swabia, close to the border with Alsace-Lorraine. And Renard speaks of one Grimm betraying the other six under torture, of the secret of alchemy, of everlasting life, a piece of the cross, Muhammad's sword...

Juliette's memories return, and with them her love for Nick, and guilt over how she has treated him. As the main plot resolves itself (meh) she is left wondering what to do now.

Recent episodes may have taken a dip, but the arc stuff remains compelling, and I'm excited about the season's final few episodes...

Grimm: Volcanalis

"Do you have a lot of these books, by the way?"

Hmm. I think we have the end of our sustained run of quality here. This episode isn't all that bad, but this tale of volcanoes, geologists, park rangers and magma beast Wesen doesn't quite manage to, er, erupt.

Rather more interesting is Hank being forced on vacation, no doubt forced by off-screen reasons for the absence of a Russell Hornsby. This is a rather amusing scene, I must admit, although it doesn't exactly succeed in hiding the off-screen reasons for Hornsby's temporary disappearance.

Also more interesting is Juliette's visit to the shamanic lady from La Llorana. There is also Adalind's plot line, and the confirmation of the baby's royal blood. The arc bits are interesting in a way that the main plot simply isn't. It's nice to see them intersect, though, as Renard is finally introduced to the contents of Nick's trailer. 

A lacklustre episode, then, but quite a cliffhanger; Juliette seems to have her memories back!!!

Grimm: One Angry Fuchsbau

"Well, he dropped a toad. In the men's room."

That's weird; a courtroom drama, in Grimm, based on 12 Angry Men. Naturally, the defence counsel is one of those toad munching Wesen with persuasion powers, who also uses these powers to pick up girls in a rather rapey way. It's another good one, which even packs in a good bit of farce near the end. The accused, naturally, is a Brit. We're evil, us lot.

Meanwhile, though, Monroe shows the trailer to Juliette in order to jog her memory. But only partial memories resurface, and that's seemingly it. Then she remembers the woman from La Llorana; we all know where this subplot is going next. And Adalind is hobnobbing around in a CGI castle with Eric Renard.

Can nothing spoil this run of quality?


Grimm: Nameless

"Maybe we got lucky this time- we're just dealing with a simple, ordinary psychopath."

This one'a obviously Rumpelstiltskin. I didn't even have to look it up; we have a bloke who kills people involved in an online RPG unless they guess his name. Serves them right. Role playing games should happen round a table with mates, funny shaped dice and beer, not sat alone in front of a screen, dammit. It's as silly as online card games.

(Incidentally, Rumpelstiltskin, or a play thereof, was the highlight of my acting career. Yes indeed, at the tender age of 10 I brought life to the character of "Third Peasant" on stage in front of staff and parents of Sketchley Hill Primary School. Autographs are charged at a reasonable rate.)

It's another good episode, made even more fun by the literary clues. In fact, it's a very clever plot, reminiscent of Sherlock and, nicely, Woo had a large part in solving the puzzle.

Meanwhile, Juliette's memories may be starting to come back, and Renard begins to embroil himself in plotting against his royal relatives. This is another brilliant episode.

Grimm: Mr. Sandman

"The red worms may have actually done you some good!"

This one is apparently based on The Sand-Man by Ernst Hoffman. And yes, a certain dreary tune from the '50s makes it's tiresomely inevitable appearance.

This is another good one, though; a bereavement support group is infiltrated by an Aussie Wesen who feeds through blinding people with a red mist and killing them. Before the plot proper starts, though, we see a nice, cosy dinner party with Nick and Hank dining with Monroe and Rosalie, enjoying good conversation, good good, and good red wine- my kind of evening! These kinds of scenes make them all seem more likeable.

Soon Nick and Hank are called to the scene of the crime, and a traditional monster-of-the-week plot gets underway. It's almost nostalgic to get this sort of thing after the last few weeks.

There's some arc stuff- the aftermath of Juliette's hallucinations, Renard's continued guilt-ridden erotic dreaming about Juliette, speculation about which Royal brother is the father of Adalind's baby- but emphasis is on the story of the week, and it's no bad thing. All that stuff about worms burrowing in eyes is somewhat gross, but again that's no bad thing. Inevitably, Nick's sight is threatened for a while, giving him Daredevil type powers, which the lucky bastard retains even after he regains his sight. He's slowly amassing more and more superpowers...

We seem to be maintaining the high quality of recent episodes. I hope this lasts.

Grimm: Natural Born Wesen

"If we can overcome our differences, you will make history."

So, apparently Wesen bars play Rammstein. Nice; they are possibly the best band I've ever seen live, at Download last year. But I suspect the band was chosen because, in TV Land, dodgy bars always have metal playing, and Rammstein are doubly suitable for a dodgy Wesen bar, being German and all.

We're back to a Grimm tale again, this time The Bremen Town Musicians, a sign that we're slightly dialling back from all the arc stuff. Still, the cure takes place, and Nick fills Hank (and the forgetful viewer) in on the key; there are six, and together they make up a 12th century treasure map. There's also some interestingly druggy stuff with Juliette, alone in the house, hallucinating about unending staircases and huge pits.

There's also a fascinating hatchet-burying chat between Nick and Renard. Renard learns that Hank knows about the Wesen stuff and they agree to work together. This looks very much like a reiteration of the status quo, something a greater show would try and avoid.

The main non-arc plot, though, concerns a bunch of Wesen who commit robberies with their beast faces visible, a big no no as it could taint other Wesen by association and, indeed, so much so that the Wesen Council are involved. Rosalie, it seems, has family connections to the Council, and gives them a call, with deadly consequences for the robbers. Is this an endorsement of vigilante justice...?

This is a very strong episode indeed, with a great central premise and some fresh feeling surreal stuff with Juliette. Grimm is getting better and better.


Grimm: Face Off

"Nick knows it's you!"

This time the quote is from Ferdinand Foch, the famous French WWI whose surname has to be pronounced very carefully if one's first language is English, and not a fairy tale at all. This episode is all about the arc, and Nick's confrontation of Renard.

This is the biggie. Much of the early part of the episode is drowning as dramatic irony as Nick treats Renard as normal, saying nothing, not knowing that the Captain has been rifling around in his trailer, looking for the key. Or, indeed, that Renard and Adalind have been having some rather kinky sex there. This looks rather more satisfying than the earlier fumble between Renard and Juliette, where she takes his gun, shoots around him and misfires, a rather obvious metaphor for bad sex.

Nick, Monroe and the gang quickly work out that Renard is the Royal in Portland, yet Sean expresses ambivalence towards Adalind regarding his family. 

While Monroe and Rosalie work on an antidote for the love spell affecting Juliette and Renard, we finally get a confrontation between the cuckolded Nick and his unwillingly priapic boss. This ultimately ends in an agreement to take the antidote, and one of the effects of this is one cliffhanger. Adalind's positive pregnancy test is the other...

It's all action, this one, and hence quite gripping with revelations and long-awaited resolution of subplots making a satisfying episode. We also learn that Renard is half Hexenbeist, and so partly detached from his family; it's hinted that he is ultimately going to remain a goodie. 

What has happened to Grimm? It's still visibly a network show, good but not great and certainly no Buffy, but all this arc stuff has improved it no end.

Saturday, 20 September 2014

Doctor Who: Time Heist

"Still don't understand why you're in charge...?"

"Basically, it's the eyebrows."

My heart sank when I discovered this was to be written by the less-than-impressive Steve Thompson, and even more by the "and Steven Moffat"; is this a script so bad it's had to be largely rewritten by the showrunner? Still, perhaps I wasn't to worry; after all, Into the Dalek was by "Phil Ford and Steven Moffat" and that was ok. Still, what's with all these co-credits? RTD rewrote scripts all the time and never claimed a co-credit. Moffat had a reputation for not re-writing as much, but surely he must have done so a little, and if not then why so often this series? It's a mystery.

Still... this is actually quite good, and certainly the best from Thompson. I suspect it's not really down to the script, though; the pre-credits sequence is superb (is it just me who was reminded of Saw by the concept of four strangers waking up and being made to perform a task by a mysterious figure with a voice like Tobin Bell's?), but the rest of the episode, while exciting, doesn't really fulfil it's promise and the ending, while logical, feels a little abrupt, although I like the twist of the Architect being the Doctor, predictable though it may be. I'm afraid that this story, while good, is only my second favourite Doctor Who take on the Minotaur legend after The Horns of Nimon.

Still, there's much to like here. I like the tragic cyberpunk figure of Psi, who can delete his memory banks without the aid of those worms from The Snowmen. Its a heartbreaking tragedy to have to delete your loved ones to avoid harming them and... the character is essentially a walking metaphor for the Doctor. So is Saibra, forever apart from others and yearning to be free of her baggage. And Keeley Hawes makes a superb guest baddie as both Kabraxos and her clone. But are we to infer, from the Doctor's observation that she must be full of self loathing if she "fires" her own clones and that he "hates" the Architect, that he is full of self-loathing too? Is every major guest character here a metaphor for the Doctor?

So much for the good-but-not-great script. What really elevates this is the direction of Douglas Mackintosh, whose use of colour and camera angles is at once modern, brilliant and heavily suggestive of the visual grammar of the heist movie. I'm struck by the scene in which he shoots our four bank robbers, in a little room, from above. In fact, the general standard of direction so far this season has been universally superb. 

Oh, and Abslom Daak is now officially canon!

There's not been much in terms of the season arc this week, aside from Clara's upcoming date and another mention of that mysterious woman in the shop. But it all seems to be coming to a head this week. 


Wednesday, 17 September 2014

Grimm: Season of the Hexenbeist

"To be continued... sorry."

Oh my word. It's all kicking off. Nick finally learns all and seems all poised to have it out with Sean Renard in a confrontation that one could be forgiven for thinking would never happen. Not only that, though; there are Royals in town, and they're in contact with our old friend Adalind. Fortunately, Hank is now wise to her tricks. Just as fortunately, Juliette now seems to have actual character traits these days. I'm warming to her; Bitsie Tulloch does a good job with the material. I still have problems with David Giuntoli; he can act but he has no charisma. He's not much of a leading man.

Adalind tells Sean that he has 48 hours to get the MacGuff- er, key from Nick, which makes things a little bit hectic. Adalind is soon arrested, and in Renard's power, telling him of Nick's trailer. There's a wee bit of conflict going on, and finally a bit of honest talking between Nick and Juliette after all the recent pussyfooting around.

There's quite an ending, though, as Nick finally learns the identity of Juliette's lover...

Tuesday, 16 September 2014

Cilla, Part 1

""'Ey, Cilla, no pressure. It's only your whole future depends on it!"

Yes, I know: this sort of thing is generally best done on BBC4. But ITV did a pretty good job with Tommy Cooper recently, so I thought I'd have a look at how they dealt with their very own Cilla Black. 

This may not be a great work of art, but it's fun seeing a recreated Mad Men era Liverpool, with assorted Beatle impressions, a recreation of that iconic shot of the queue just outside the Cavern and a glimpse into the social attitude of this distant yet not-so-distant time. In many ways the protagonists, young enough to be my parents' elder siblings, are similar in terms of social mores than today. And yet, in a clever scene, Cilla is shown kissing a black man and then explaining that her parents wouldn't approve because he's a "prod".this is working class, teddy boy, sectarian Liverpool on the early '60s.

Sheridan Smith is, of course, a true star here. She speaks perfect Scouse and is perfect at Cilla's mannerisms, even singing herself in Cilla's style. We get a real sense of the Merseybeat scene of the era, which sounds bloody fantastic, even if I haven't heard of most of the bands.

Things end in a downer, with Cilla knocked back to a typing pool, and Madison Avenue this ain't. Never mind, though; I suspect stardom beckons...

Saturday, 13 September 2014

Grimm: To Protect and Serve Man

"Do you like the taste of human flesh, Johnny?"

This is an episode that could only have been done shortly after Hank first learned about Wesen; he revisits an old case of his as it becomes increasingly clear that the man he banged up for it may not be the murderer he seems as Wesen were involved. And, worst of all but great for dramatic tension, the good state of Oregon has yet to join the civilised world in the matter of capital punishment, and the execution date is, by such a coincidence these things could almost be scripted, tomorrow.

Hackneyed though this story of the week may be, it's entertaining enough. Nice abolitionist subtext, too, with all the political pressure for the innocent man to hang- and, surely, the fact that the District Attorney is elected, and thus subject to crude hang 'em, flog 'em polpulism, is a blatant conflict of interest between the political and judicial spheres?

This week's Wesen is a Wendigo; another use of real Native American mythology. Apparently, Jeffrey Dahmer was one. A nice touch, I thought, was the visit to a prison in which most prisoners are Wesen; this is an interesting hint at racism in the criminal justice system in the context of the disproportionate amount of black Americans on Death Row.

Not much arc stuff until the end here, but what an ending; Monroes sees Renard and Juliette kissing...

Doctor Who: Listen

"Fear doesn't have to make you cruel or cowardly..."

Nice little tribute to Terrance Dicks there.

Hmm. Bit of a curate's egg, this. There are some clever character moments and nice twists, as one would expect from Moffat, and some brilliant use of structure. The artistry of the writing is really something to admire. And yet...

It wasn't scary. We were promised a scary episode, but what we got was a well-worn and old Moffat meme; the things in the corner of your eye. And,  after working with the Weeping Angels and the Silence, it falls flat here. We've seen all this before. Ultimately the episode's central trick fails. And all of the positive comments that follow should be taken in that light. Listen just doesn't work.

Still, there is a lot of great character and arc stuff here. Clara and Danny are clearly meant for each other- we even meet their descendant- and the interesting parallel between these two Coal Hill schoolteachers and their predecessors from that early evening in the Autumn of 1963 is deliberately foregrounded by their bonding over Courtney, a puzzling pupil in the tradition of one Susan Foreman. Perhaps the irascible first Doctor of every regeneration cycle needs a couple of Coal Hill teachers to humanise him. The old ones are the best. And don't think I didn't notice the line "Fear makes companions of all of us." It's a cleverly done parallel.

Moffat, he of Coupling fame, is of course brilliant at the relationship comedy stuff, and the scenes between Clara and Danny (Samuel Anderson has great comic timing) absolutely sparkle. But the elephant in the room is again Danny's military background, something traditionally set against the Doctor's supposedly strict no-guns approach (although he seems to have had no problems shooting Ogrons in Day of the Daleks and Frontier in Space) and presumably a reason for the Doctor disapprove of Clara's new boyfriend when the time comes.

Except... this episode deconstructs all that. The parallels between Danny and the Doctor are clear enough anyway, but the final scenes really hammer it home; the little boy sleeping in a barn outside the children's home, alone, is not Danny but the Doctor, and the presence under his bed is only Clara, once again inserting herself into his timeline. 

The Doctor, it seems, wanted to be a soldier before joining the Academy, and many years later he would return to that same barn, wearing John Hurt's face, to make that fateful decision during the Time War...

As an episode in itself, this fails. As a piece in a wider arc, it's brilliant. I can't wait to see where this is all going; the arc and character stuff seems to be nuanced, well-constructed and confident in a way we haven't quite seen before under Moffat, fantastic though his era has been thus far; I suspect that, this time, deadline pressures have been absent. This season is on course to be bloody good. It can absorb a failed experiment like this episode.


Sunday, 7 September 2014

Grimm: The Hour of Death

"Did you say testicles?"

Clever, this one; it was the intern, seeded a couple of episodes ago, whodunit. I don't want to boast (well, actually I do), but I suspected him from the start. Nice, though; like Buffy, Grimm is getting into some proper arc storytelling in its second season. It isn't anywhere near as good as Buffy, obviously, but I'm liking it's recent direction enormously.

Nice also that the Wesen are not the baddies, although there's an awful lot of nasty torturing going on. Nice that our racist Grimm baddie is, in fact, a Wesen himself. 

Arc-wise, there is further smouldering mutual attraction between Juliette and Renard; this is heading for a dramatic climax. Er, no naughty pun intended, but that kiss...


Saturday, 6 September 2014

Doctor Who: Robot of Sherwood

"Old-fashioned heroes only exist in old-fashioned story books, Clara!"

It's only been a few hours and I've already seen some negative reaction to this episode online, which is interesting as this is, at a push, my favourite of the season so far.

Is it Mark Gatiss, I wonder? Fandom as a whole doesn't rate him as a writer, although The Unquiet Dead, Night Terrors and The Crimson Horror were superb, and two of those were his most recent. He seems to have rediscovered his mojo since Victory of the Daleks, and that was four years ago now. This is his best since Night Terrors, a fun historical romp with much wit and, arguably, the best example of putting Doctor Who into a space defined by another iconic character, with its own narrative conventions, since The Androids of Tara, with which it has in common more than robots.

The comparison between the Doctor and Robin Hood as iconic heroes is, of course, highly appropriate, working on both a literal and a metatextual level. It's an interesting observation on the new Doctor's character that he doesn't believe in heroes yet is one himself, just like Robin Hood. This lack of faith in his own heroic nature is a feature of this Doctor, harking back to last episode's "Am I a good man?" and leading to my suspicions that this is leading to something. And this Doctor has no Time War guilt.

On the metatextual level, of course, Gatiss is using the comparison with Robin Hood to say that the Doctor is an iconic hero up there with Robin Hood, Sherlock Holmes and the like. And when Robin tells the Doctor that "I'm just as real as you are", this can be taken to also mean that both are equally fictional. 

It's a nice twist that Tom Riley's chisel-jawed Robin, Ben Miller's splendidly moustache-twirling Sheriff of Nottingham (who plans not to stop at ruling Nottingham, but to go on to Derby, Lincoln and perhaps even Worksop...) and even the Merry Men and Marian are all in fact, much to the Doctor's surprise, real. And it's a nice touch that the brief montage of Robin Hood in popular culture includes a glimpse of Patrick Troughton, who played Robin Hood on television in 1953. Bizarrely, I came across this last week when I read Michael Troughton's excellent biography of his father. Another nice touch is that Alan a Dale is played by Mark Gatiss' real life partner, and reminds me of Sir Robin's minstrel from Monty Python and the Holy Grail.

Better still, Clara is yet again shown as brave, clever, awesome and just as she had been since the regeneration. And her chemistry with Peter Capaldi is still much better than with Matt Smith.

An awesome episode, then, possibly the best of the season although I'm torn between this and Deep Breath. No Missy this week, but we do get another load of robots looking for a "Promised Land"...

Sunday, 31 August 2014

A Chat with Mike Tucker

My friend Nick and I are interviewing Mike Tucker, special effects guru best known for Doctor Who and Red Dwarf, novelist, and all round must-see chap, at the Ale Wagon in Leicester on 27th September. Mike will be signing his latest book and chatting onstage about his career.

Hook (1991)

"When are you going to learn to stop acting like a child?"

"I am a child!"

It's rather obvious that the reason I'm blogging this film now is the sad passing of Robin Williams, so it's worth starting with a few words about a comedian and actor of great talent.

I've never been a great fan of Hollywood's popular comedies, which always have the main character learning some heartwarming lesson about family values rather than just, you know, being funny. Robin Williams may have been good at these, being both a superb comic actor and very capable of pathos, but for much of his career he was ill-served by film unworthy of his talents. There are, of course, a good number of quality films starring Williams but his best performance, for me, is a straight role in One Hour Photo.

Hook, although it somewhat fits the definition of a Hollywood comedy as defined above, is nonetheless quite a good film, if not brilliant, because of the spectacle, the sense of wonder that fantasy always brings, and a particularly sublime performance from Williams, who shines here, far outshining the pantomime villainy of Dustin Hoffman, who gets top billing for some reason.

The conceit- a sequel to Peter Pan in which J.M. Barrie simply passed of his neighbour's children's true stories of his own and Peter Pan eventually grows up and becomes a lifeless, Reagan-voting asset stripper who missed the '60s because he was an accountant- is a good one. Yes, he's a bad father as per many such scar actors in such Hollywood films, but the Peter Pan stuff actually makes this interesting. His fear of flying is a nice touch. And Robin Williams brings the role a real depth, far more than is in the script.

This isn't the greatest film ever, but it's fun and, indeed, bangarang. I love the montage with Peter getting his mojo back, and the late Bob Hoskins is great, far outshining Hoffman. Well worth a watch, and nostalgic to see some actual world-building spectacle from the days before widespread CGI.

Saturday, 30 August 2014

Doctor Who: Into the Dalek

"Fantastic idea for a movie. Terrible idea for a proctologist."

Peter Capaldi's tenure can now claim two excellent episodes in a row; in hindsight this is both a far better story and a far better study of our new Doctor than was The Beast Below.

The plot is, obviously, Fantastic Voyage, but we also get a bit of Doctor/Dalek moral comparison that both evokes Dalek and gives us an interesting study of our new Doctor, who may not be a good man but is, perhaps, a "good Dalek"; he may be on the side of good, but that doesn't make him nice. Indeed, he says of Clara that "She cares so I don't have to." And yet... this new Doctor is not too alienating; he's witty, and just vulnerable enough. This is  The Twin Dilemma done right, and Capaldi simply shines. So does Moffat. He seems to have a far clearer idea of what he wants to do here than he did during Matt Smith's early stories. 

There's also some nice arc threads being laid down. This Doctor, even more than before, doesn't like soldiers... and Clara, the Doctor's moral compass and the person, clearly, whom he most respects, is obviously set up to begin a relationship with a former soldier, and one with a troubled military past. That'll be interesting.

Also, of course, we see Missy again. She seems to be collecting people in her "Heaven" who have died because of the Doctor. Interesting. She's obviously a big, mysterious part of this season. And Missy... Mistress? A female Master? Or just clever misdirection? We shall see. 

I have to praise the effects here, too, which were outstanding, and the performances in general. This is also the best Dalek story in ages, and the first in ages to actually be about them. They work best when treated as a dark mirror of the Doctor; mirrors of the Doctor seem, so far, to be something of a season motif. 

So, Robin Hood...

Saturday, 23 August 2014

Doctor Who: Deep Breath

"I'm not your boyfriend."

Damn you, Moffat. My lovely wife may be pregnant, and somewhat prone to blubbing, but that bit where Matt Smith's Doctor told Clara over the phone that his new self would need looking after made her cry!!!

This is the best regeneration story I've properly seen thus far (although seeing The Power of the Daleks with actual footage would be nice, hint hint, Mr Morris and Auntie Beeb). The Moff is, as usual, both very clever and very meta in having the script address head on all of the audience's concerns and questions about the new Doctor (Peter Capaldi is the Doctor, superb and very Tom thus far) and the show's future. 

Clara's resistance to this older, non-heartthrob Time Lord echoes that of countless fangirls, one of whom I happen to be married to, but Gem, at least, has been won over. It takes time for Clara to be won over too, but this is both realistic and allows her to voice the fears of a portion of the audience, and moreover the clash between her and Vastra over her denial that the Doctor has changed is a real dramatic highlight.

Capaldi is instantly the Doctor, as expected, but the real delight is Clara who, for the first time, is being given actual character traits and a chance for Jenna Coleman to show what a bloody good actress she is when given the material. It's also notable that, given the new friction between the Doctor and Clara, the two leads have real chemistry, more so than there ever was between Coleman and Matt Smith. A lot if this has to do with Clara suddenly being an actual character with a personality, and not just the walking arc plot MacGuffin that was the impossible girl. She's as much of a revelation here as Capaldi.

The plot, while slightly rehashed from Full Circle, is nicely unfurled, with the surprise baddies ("rubbish robots from the dawn of time") being those clockwork droids from The Girl in the Fireplace way back in season twenty-eight. There are some nice moments as the Doctor and Clara investigate,notably as Clara shows what a tough but she is when being interrogated but most shockingly when the Doctor seems to abandon her, a trick which works in a regeneration story as in no other.

There are other little things to love here aside from the plot and characterisation: the little jokes about the Doctor's accent; the hint that the face he now has (that of a Roman whom he met in Pompeii!) is a clue he set for himself(!)( Strax's many splendidly quotable lines, and the slightly kinky nature of Vastra and Jenny's relationship. Oh, and there's that mysterious lady at the end, who apparently both arranged the Doctor and Clara's rendezvous at the restaurant and performed a similar feat in The Bells of Saint John. We will see her again, I'm sure; season big bad, perhaps?

This is an assured and confident beginning (love the new TARDIS interior and new steampunk title sequence!), with a first class script, an exciting new Doctor and a wonderfully nuanced Doctor/companion relationship. Doctor Who is on a real high right now.

Friday, 22 August 2014

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...

Thursday, 21 August 2014

The Big Swallow (1901)



Yet another quick lunch break blogging of a very early silent short, then, and this time we have a very early but of metatextualism, and you know how much I adore all things meta. 

This film is less than a minute long, but it manages to be playful and fun; the camera closes in on a bloke with a startlingly enormous collar (and the close-up, in 1901, was not in itself something to be taken for granted), until suddenly he swallows the camera and cameraman. We then see the camera and cameraman inside said bloke's mouth (!!!!) and then we see Big Collar Man again, laughing evilly. But, we're made to ask, who is filming these last two scenes...?

The grammar of film-making has never been so much fun. Have a look; it's on YouTube.

Saturday, 9 August 2014

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...

The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug (2013)


"There is even talk... Of an election!!!"

It's hard to say much about this middle part of the trilogy without rehashing things I've already said about the previous film, well-made and good though the film is. Again, it's overlong but gets away with it. And again it's good in the same way as the Lord of the Rings films were good, but less likely to attract the attention of the academy due to lack of novelty.

Not that I mean this as any kind of negative criticism, but this film is more of the same, a splendid turn from Stephen Fry aside. Again, we have the parallel stories of Smaug's gold and the "Necromancer" actually being Sauron. The latter of these two plot threads is essentially what pads out the film, along with a greater emphasis on the dwarves' culture and history (they aren't just after gold, as they essentially were in the novel) and fleshing out the nature of the city of Dale. And then there's the Elven stuff, and Legolas. There's even a bit of political allegory, given the isolationist and Neville Chamberlain-like policies of the Elven king in the face of an obvious Hitler analogue

(Legolas, is, of course, a Wood Elf. Fitting, as there's always a touch of plywood to Orlando Bloom's performance. Boom boom.)

Probably the highlight of the film is Bilbo's awakening of Sauron. Which not only looks amazing but is absolutely made by the excellent voice work of Benedict Cumberbatch. It's odd, of course, to see him paired in this context with Martin Freeman, his erstwhile Baker Street chum, but these scenes are superb. 

It's a superb film, really, and the ending has you on the edge of your seat. At least, it does until Ed bloody Sheeran opens his stupid mouth...

Monday, 4 August 2014

The One-Man Band (1900)

More trickery in front of a static camera from Georges Melies here, less than two minutes long and presented as a novelty rather than a narrative. Like The Haunted Castle, it feels like a piece of music hall-style light entertainment with a camera pointed at it. We are still at the stage where cinema is a novelty and the basics of film grammar are not taken for granted.

It's fun amusing to watch, though, and it's nice to imagine that it has something of Melies' personality to it.

The film is, naturally, in the public domain, and easy to find on YouTube or the online channel of your choice.

Sunday, 3 August 2014

The War of the Worlds (2005)


"Trees are funny!"

I have a rule. Never do I blog a sequel before it's predecessor and never do I blog a remake- if I blog remakes at all; I have a big prejudice against them- before the original. Never mind the obvious stylistic nods to the 1953 George Pal film; this is at heart another version of the original novel. Indeed, we open and with Morgan Freeman speaking H.G. Wells' words, and the ending, from a time when Natural Selection was a relatively new thing, is retained in this updated film, set in modern America.

Steven Spielberg and War of the Worlds was always going to be a neat fit, and the film certainly looks great. Sadly, it stars Tom Cruise, but it's nice to see a suitably weird performance from a young Dakota  Fanning, one of my wife's favourite performers. 

The opening section, introducing Sal, his kids Robbie (studying French colonialism in Algeria, appropriately as the original novel was based on the idea of the British Empire feeling what it was like to be colonised) and young Rachel, goes on too long with the stuff about custody of the kids, something which could have been established much more economically; we want Martians!

The spectacle never ceases to amazed but, sadly, there's a reason why Tom Cruise was a has-been by 2005. Everything looks fantastic and there are some nice touches- the Martians ride the lightning to their machines- and the family themes sentiment is even, by Spielberg standards, not overdone. This is a good film, but could have been great with a different star.

Saturday, 2 August 2014

Guardians of the Galaxy (2014)


"I don't believe that anybody could be 100% dick..."

I'm an old-fashioned Marvel geek in that I bought a ridiculous number of titles up until around 1994, when most of my favourite runs were winding down, Mark Gruenwald died and I started building up my record collection, which left less budgetary room for comic books. I know an awful lot about Marvel up to that point (I had a lot of back issues going way back) but I'm patchy thereafter. I do, however, remember Jim Valentino's run on Guardians of the Galaxy, a title set a thousand years on the future and with characters called things like Vance Astro and Charlie 27. This film isn't based on any of that, but a load of Marvel's cosmic characters, many of them associated with the great Jim Starlin.

We have fanwanky Marvel goodness aplenty. There is Drax the Destroyer, Rocket Raccoon(!), Ronan the Accuser, Thanos(!), a strange cyborg version of Nebula who hears no relation to the character as written by Roger Stern in The Avengers back in the mid-'80s, the Collector, the best Stan Lee cameo yet and even footage of a Celestial!

But this isn't a po-faced epic film; it's  witty, fun action film full of funny and charismatic rogues turned heroes, a cross between Star Wars and Firefly. Chris Pratt stars as Peter, a transplanted human with mysterious parentage and the Han Solo of the film. Karen Gillan disappoints vaguely as Nebula. But the best thing in it is Bradley Cooper's Rocket.

This is a superbly plotted and scripted sci-go action film with wit, action, top tuneage (we get Bowie's "Moonage Daydream" and the Runaways' "Cherry Bomb"!) and an amazingly realised space opera world with some of the best CGI I've ever seen. If you haven't seen it, do so now. It'll be on at cinemas for a good while. 

Oh, and remember, this is a Marvel film. Stay to the end.

Friday, 1 August 2014

The Haunted Castle (1896/7)

Early this may be, dating from before the publication of Dracula, but this is generally defined as the first ever horror film by those sensible people who don't consider the sight of a moving train moving towards the audience to be such. It's public domain, obviously, even if your country, like mine, has particularly stupid copyright extension laws, and available on YouTube. Other such sites are available.

The most obviously noticeable things to a modern viewer are the poor condition of the film (surely restoration could improve it?) and the worryingly unsubtle acting. But perhaps "acting" is the wrong word; I may be reading too much into the fact that the film looks like a filmed stage play as, this being 1896, the camera doesn't move, but this looks like a stage magician's act, except all the tricks are done by means of Georges Melies' early experimental use of the camera for special effects. It comes across as light entertainment rather than drama, and is focused on showing off what the new medium can do rather than things such as plot or narrative.

Still, this film is a testament to how much we owe to these early pioneers of cinema. It's shocking to reflect that this. film was considered lost until it's rediscovery in 1988. Many other silents are still lost today.

Wednesday, 23 July 2014

New Worlds: Episode 4

"I dream of a vast continent, a republic where millions of men live in liberty."

So, New Worlds is over with a whimper, and I notice that, unlike The Devil's Whore, it caused nary a stir at the time and, mere months later, is pretty much forgotten. So what went wrong? Well, it's dull, for a start, with forgettable characters entirely lacking in charisma. And then there's the didacticism. While there's nothing wrong with looking at the past through the eyes of the present- it only exists in those terms, after all- New Worlds goes too far in putting modern sentiments into Restoration mouths.

The Devil's Whore managed to square this circle, looking at the "Good Old Cause" through the eyes of the contemporary Left examining its own heritage. Yet the characters were all of their time. Here we have Whigs expressing modern values, unhistorical attitudes to the Native American genocide, and crude use of dramatic irony in the many hints that the USA is set to exist in ninety years time. Most notably, the concluding bit of text doesn't even mention the Glorious Revolution of 1688, an elephant in the room that demonstrates a crude attempt to avoid a Whig interpretation of history which values the post-1689 constitutional settlement and trying to put a modern Leftist slant on, well, Whigs.

Charles II continues to be an I characteristically miserable bastard, and then dies right on schedule. Abe Gough is tortured, but escapes execution and buggers off to Boston to embark on a career as the authorial voice. Chris Finch from The Office is still around. There is much examination of the fact that Massachusetts is founded on the genocide of local tribes, and conflict with the King's representative that crudely foreshadows the 1770s ("I am here to remind Massachusetts that it is a colony and not a republic"). Hope is a bit racist. Sidney is horribly executed. Beth's mixed race baby is shunned, and reclaimed by it's fatger's moribund tribe. The Monmouth Rebellion happens. Etc. Etc.

This is actually the best of the four episodes, and moderately involving to watch. But by now it's far too late. 

Saturday, 19 July 2014

L'Arrivée d'un train en gare de La Ciotat (1895)

Yep, it's the first horror film. Cringe with terror as the train seems about to run you over as you sit there is now of the first cinemas somewhere in France...

This is yet another curiosity of early cinema, on which it would be pointless to pass any value judgement. It goes to show, though, that this sort of elementary footage had such power in those early days. It would be some years into the following century before elementary film grammar was established.

It's well worth forty-nine seconds of your time to watch it on YouTube...

The Cheese Mites (1903)

Have a look for this on YouTube; it's a partly lost film but 49 seconds exist, of some cheese mites through a microscope. It was originally a short film, bookended by scenes of a bloke being put off his meal.

It's rather pointless expressing any opinion, really, but the context is interesting; one of a series of scientific documentary short films being shown at a time during which film was still something of a novelty.

Sunday, 13 July 2014

Secret Window (2004)


"I did those things so you didn't have to."

It's increasingly unusual to see Johnny Depp in a film where he's neither playing Captain Jack Sparrow nor being directed by Tim Burton. Here he is, though, on one of those Stephen King-penned thrillers that are, by sheer coincidence, making up an increasingly large proportion of the films I'm blogging.

It's a typical Stephen King thriller, right down to having a writer native to Maine as the hero, and it makes an excellent film with a superb twist. The interplay between Depp's dishevelled Morton Rainey and John Turturro's menacing hick, John Shooter, is disturbingly effective, as it has to be for the film to work.

I won't say anything about the twist, except to praise it in vague yet fulsome terms. But every storytelling beat is perfectly placed for this thriller to have maximum effect, as we should expect for a film based on King's work. There are nice touches; Depp's performance in general, of course, and the use of cigarettes (he's supposed to be giving up) to denote Morton's mood.

The twist is especially neat, especially as life increasingly mirrors the short story under dispute. This is a well executed, deeply satisfying and underappreciated film.

Saturday, 12 July 2014

The Human Centipede 2: Full Sequence (2011)


"Is this the perverted film you've been talking about?"

Oh, you just knew I had to blog the sequel.

This is much more splendidly disgusting than it's predecessor, which inevitably failed to live up to its stomach-turning reputation while being a perfectly decent standard issue horror. This is much more genuinely horrific, and not just in terms if the obvious body horror.

We now find ourselves, in a nicely metatextual move, in a world in which the previous film was just that- a film. The scene shifts to England, a bleak and monochrome England of run-down multi-storey car parks and barely inhabitable flats, areas redolent with poverty and the scent of violence and sexual abuse. Within this dark world we meet the weird, tragic Martin, a tragic and virginal loner who lives with his mum, endures a dead end job and is at the bottom of society. He is obsessed with The Human Centipede. He's also at the bottom of society and a very damaged and creepy young man, who punishes his own sexual urges by sand papering his own genitals; repression and arousal in a single act.

It's made clear, though, that it's not the film that made him this way; unsurprisingly, this horror film is not pushing a tabloidy, reactionary message about violent films be getting violence. It is Martin's environment that has made him what he is, and that environment is very dark indeed. 

Martin's mum is a horrible bully who bleakly and pointedly makes sure her son knows how she longs for death, and his dream hints clearly at his abusive childhood. Both he and his mum live in fear of their thuggish neighbour. His pet centipede seems to symbolise his late abusive father. This is a dark, dark world before we mention any of the human centipede stuff, a world in which the camera never looks at things straight on, as though to emphasise how alien this life is to the presumed middle class audience of this film, which is shot just like the art house flick that it isn't.

Martin uses his job as the car park security guard to murder and kidnap, and has gone to great lengths to lure Ashlynne, actress from the earlier film. It is clear from his drawings that he plans a much bigger centipede. Soon, indeed, he has eight people including a pregnant woman, soon joined by Ashlynne.

The human centipede is just the body horror, though; the most horrific thing about the film is the dynamic between mother and son. It is when he kills her, and then eats a meal with her corpse, that the film's darkest moment arrives. In shirt succession he then proceeds to violently kidnap the thuggish neighbour and kill his psychiatrist, whom he observes doing sexual things that he, a virgin, unable to attract girls and therefore fearful of and disgusted by sex, could never do.

He has his twelve "segments", and we slowly see the build-up to the horrific surgery to come. The surgery is amateurish, involving a staple gun and very little hygiene. The pregnant woman soon dies, her baby still alive. 

The surgery is over, and Martin is ecstatic, feeding his "centipede" with dog food and tinned soup. He delightedly encourages defecation into the mouth of the person behind, right down the line. Urrrgh. He masturbates, and rapes the woman at the back. It's all very disgusting.

Suddenly, the "dead" pregnant woman awakens. She's about to give birth; fleeing, she locks herself in the car with a crazed Martin trying to get in. As Martin leaves the scene the "centipede" splits, the thug bleeding from his mouth. Martin returns to see several smaller centipedes. Enraged, he shoots them until he runs out of bullets, and then starts to behead them with a knife. By now this is pure Grand Guignol. His death, with a centipede up his arse, seems entirely appropriate. 

This film is quite, quite disgusting and is everything that it's predecessor wasn't. It's also a rather good little character study with a message behind the gore; create a marginalised underclass and this is what you get.

Despicable Me 2 (2013)


"Good day, Mr Sheepsbutt."

"Ramsbottom!"

This is a bloody good film and well funny although, of course, it's now impossible for Gru to be a proper super villain again. Instead he works for a group of comedy special agents while having a love interest, looking after his daughters and losing Dr Nefarious to a proper supervillain. It's a predictable set-up, but who cares; it's funny.

Seeing Gru playing the part of dad to his three cute little girls will never stop being funny, and the birthday party at the start is hilarious. Not quite so comedic, but heartwarming nonetheless, is his developing relationship with Lucy Wilde. Her introduction, though, having a gadget for everything, is highly amusing.

Also amusing is the idea of Gru now using all his supervillain stuff to, er, make jam. The minions are funny and cute, obviously. My favourite scenes are probably the ones during Gru's date with that horrible conformist woman. And, when it seems that plot convenience is to separate them, there's a hilariously tense scene with Gru trying to pluck up the courage to pick up the phone and ask her out. Inevitably, the girls end up with a new mum.

All of that sounds excessively soppy for a comedy, and it is, but again who cares as there are laughs aplenty. This is just as good as it's predecessor.


Wednesday, 2 July 2014

New Worlds: Episode 3

"Our lives will never change until the kings are torn from their thrones."

This episode, we get Native Americans being all noble savages and that in ways that, while trying hard not to be racist in their depiction, may cross the line into patronising as all depictions of tribal societies inevitably do. We also get interesting political discussion which shows us how the die-hard republicans of the Good Old Cause morph slowly into Whigs, keeping an outward show of monarchy but sidelining it to the extent that one Ancien Regime French ambassador once famously refused to accept that England was a monarchy at all after 1688. This is not a Whig script, of course; it is still interested in the history of the Left and not that of Liberals such as myself who are, while way to the left of Clegg and those dangerous Orange Book entryists, are not from that tradition.

Anyway...

Beth survives transportation and meets a sort of proto-Squanto, proceeding to go predictably native and to act as the hand-wringing, post-colonial mouthpiece of our authorial voice. The King proceeds to be a right bastard, and Angelica's house goes to one of a Judge Jeffries' mates who isn't very nice to the staff, allowing us to see a bit of proto-Chartist class conflict. There's a lot of proto-this and proto-that in this somewhat Marxist script. There's nothing wrong with this, of course, but I wish the script had put equal attention to giving the characters a little depth. None of them come across as anything more than ideological mouthpieces.

Beth and her new Native American mates soon run up against John Hawkins, Henry Cresswell and their equally genocidal Puritan mates in Massachusetts which, once again, it is instructive to see depicted as the frontier. Abe, meanwhile, gets involved with the Rye House Plot. Ted, now back in Massachusetts, finds his beloved Beth now married to the dastardly Henry Cresswell. And the whole Commonwealth of Massachusetts gets a bit of a bollocking on behalf of the King, who is on the Indians' side, sort of. One of the Massachusetts Bastards, incidentally, is Chris Finch from The Office.

Beth's presence in the tribe is discovered, and our RP accented Yankees Hope and Beth resume sleeping together, now a much naughtier thing than it was before. Ned soon becomes outraged at the fact that not only his love rival but also his father are, as William Goffe had put it, "land pirates". Soon enough the tribe is wiped out in a nasty bit of germ warfare. Such is the original sin of America, and it is a very English sin.

The political subtext is entertaining, I suppose, but in the absence of characters in whom one can take an interest it's all there is to grab hold of, and it's not exactly subtle. New Worlds continues to disappoint.


Sunday, 29 June 2014

Hannibal Rising (2007)


"What is left in you to love?"

Why does this film fail? Well, firstly, it isn't very good, being slow and boring with an uncharismatic lead actor. But I think it's partly the European setting; my British sensibilities rather like the exotic American settings we've come to expect from Hannibal films. Darkly lit Black Forest locations don't really cut it.

It's disappointing to see Hannibal given an origin in Second World War Lithuania; a banal, Middle American upbringing would have been much more interesting. Just because he's a serial killer doesn't mean he should get a tragic background. And I may detect a smidgeon of that tired old American trope that Europe, the continent I live in, is full of Godless moral deviants and it's best to get away from all that for a new start in America. The character of Lecter is lessened by his dramatic European origin as presented here.

Anyway, the tragic scenes from Hannibal's childhood play out; I assume, from his name, his Lithuanian origins and his family's posh living arrangements before the Soviets arrive that he's a Baltic German by origin. I suppose it's interesting that the castle used as an orphanage is in fact posh boy Hannibal's family home; that must stick in his craw as much as the constant bullying.

Eventually he travels to France and a strange Japanese lady friend of the family, travelling by map (a Muppets in-joke there...), from whom he learns martial arts. He feels affection for her, of sorts; his first murder (in broad daylight!) is inflicted on a man  who sexually harasses her.

There are elements here that will continue throughout his life; the murder was committed because of the victim's discourtesy, and Hannibal has the first of many long cat and mouse games with a suspicious detective, in this case Dominic West's French inspector.

Then it's back to Kaunas to avenge his family's deaths, but the film still hasn't really caught fire in any way. The deaths are boring, even with the added feature of Hannibal's first bit of cannibalism. 

His pursuit of his family's killers continues throughout the film, with Hannibal risking the guillotine as the inspector is on to him; they have a discussion about vigilantism vs. the law which is almost interesting.

The film is desperately, desperately slow, but mercifully it ultimately nears its vague and unsatisfactory climax as Hannibal rescues his Japanese surrogate mother and is rejected by her as she realises what he is. The end is not really satisfying, but it's so good to find that the film is finally over.


Silent Hill: Revelation (2012)


"Burn the witch."

As per this film's predecessor, I ought to make the point that I know sod all about any of the computer games. Nevertheless, this is even better than Silent Hill, and bloody scary to boot. I understand the critics don't like it, but then they know the game (Silent Hill 3, my wife tells me); I suspect that's why. My wife, incidentally, is playing the game as I type. I've promised to protect her from the monsters.

Yes, there's a plot and yes, it works fine, but this film is all about the scary imagery and set pieces and that's what I plan to focus on. If you haven't seen the film, look away now.

It's a very nightmarish film, hence the narrative style, and so of course we begin with a dream sequence in which Heather (as she's now calling herself), the daughter from the previous film, sees images of Pyramid Head and other delights and is ominously warned to stay away from a certain West Virginia town called Silent Hill.

I like Heather's little speech in class; she moves around, won't be around long, and there's little point in the other students getting to know her. We quickly get a sequence of scary kids, reminding me a little of Village of the Damned. But we soon shift to a dream sequence and, after sequences introducing fellow student Vincent, with whom she muses philosophically on dreams vs. reality, reflecting exactly how the film is narratively structured, and a mysterious detective called Douglas Cartland, who promptly dies. Several delightfully unnerving dream sequences later, the action finally shifts to Silent Hill itself. The direction is already superb.

Having learned the backstory- fire burning underground, religious zealots etc- Heather, alongside Vincent, gains a McGuffin, loses both Vincent and her Dad as hostages, and gets some expository guff about how she's the only good part of Alessa's soul. More interestingly, we get a deeply scary scenes with shop window dummies which I very much hope strongly influences any future appearance of the Autons in Doctor Who. The plastic mannequin spider in the middle of its web is amazing. This is by far the highlight of the film.

Of course, we get scenes of Pyramid Head chopping off prisoners' hands, and we get to see the dilapidated amusement park again as the denouement plays out. The film ends very abruptly, it must be said, and I'm not sure a happy ending could ever have satisfied, but I very much enjoyed this film.

New Worlds: Episode 2

"I cannot marry a man I do not love."

Sigh. Things aren't really picking up. Ned is leaving Boston for England, and Beth is seeing Abe again. Plots are laid to expose Angelica as a traitor and expose her rather dull and understandably circumspect Catholic husband, who cannot deny the "Popish Plot" for fear of accusations, just so the King can seize her land. This is a pity, as Angelica's home is a haven of Whiggery and religious tolerance. Meanwhile, Beth and Abe hope to go to the New World to carry on the Good Old Cause. None of this is presented so as to be at all interesting.

Meanwhile, in Massachusetts, Hope Russell is to be married to a man- Henry Cresswell- whom she neither loves nor likes. And yes, it's still weird to hear all of these Massachusetts Puritans speaking in RP accents. She is, of course, presented with all sorts if arguments to make her feel guilty and submit to this patriarchal and misigynistic pressure. The point here is that it's not only the Tories back in England who are somewhat lacking in progressivism.

Angelica's house is invaded by thugs who light bonfires and chant about the "Popish Plot and praise the Duke of Monmouth. Angelica's hubby, sure enough, is trapped into denying Titus Oates' outrageous claims and arrested. He is now at the mercy of the infamous Judge Jeffries, and both Angelica and Beth are in trouble by proxy. It's all very dramatic, yet somehow still fails to engage.

Poor hubby is tortured, while Abe learns of his fatger's death; he is, it seems, Wiiliam Goff's son. He tries to kill Charles II, whom Jeremy Northam is portraying as a not-at-all merry monarch. He is harboured by Beth and Angelica, and both are subsequently arrested and, on Angelica's case, finally have her luck run out as she is sentenced to be burned at the stake while Beth is transported to America.

Angelica finally dies, watched by her daughter, and gives a magnificent speech; being executed is, after all, a per formative act and, in this case, a political one as she calls Charles a tyrant. Abe, mercifully, shoots her dead before she can suffer, and then seemingly plunges to his own death.

All this is juxtaposed with Charles, looking thoroughly miserable, putting on his crown and dissolving Parliament. He seems triumphant.

Saturday, 28 June 2014

New Worlds: Episode 1

"Young Americans like you must seize true liberty."

The Devil's Whore was superlative television. This... isn't, and it's obvious from the start. The cast doesn't sparkle anywhere near as much, there's a lack of unity between the scenes in England and Massachusetts, and the continuing political themes are handled a little more clunky; yes, pre-Glorious Revolution England was no beacon of liberty, but Charles II was not his father, and certainly not the miserable bastard we see here. There a reason why he's known as the Merry Monarch.

We begin in Massachusetts in 1680, a place of Puritan dogma, ethnic cleansing and republican sympathies which extend to harbouring Colonel William Goff, one of the few surviving regicides. Most jarring of all, though, to modern eyes, is the sight of Native American tribes in that long-settled part of New England; the Eastern Seaboard is the frontier. Here we meet Hope and Ned, two strangely RP-accented Americans about whom we are supposed to care, but don't. Indeed, even watching, as I did, with subtitles, it was well into the second episode before I got a clear idea of who the characters were. Characterisation is not this series' strong point.

Our first sight of England is bodies hanging from the Tower of London; lovely. Here we meet an older and much less charismatic Angelica Fanshawe, her grown-up daughter Beth, and her Roman Catholic husband who has been having rather a rough time of it since the so-called Popish Plot two years ago. Beth becomes curious about her father, Edward Sexby, now a conveniently dead legend for republicans and Whigs. Angelica is under pressure to sell her land to the King. This is all set-up and plot but mainly exposition,  with very little spectacle, character or thematic cleverness. The historical characters- James, Duke of York, the Earl of Shaftesbury and the "Protestant Duke"- are made to seem very dull.

William Goff, meanwhile, is on the run from the King's men. He symbolises the transfer of republican ideas from England to America, something dripping with dramatic irony as we know, as he does not, that the English Civil War will have an  American sequel a century hence in which a new republic will be born. Goff is not an unproblematic proto-American, though; shortly before his death he bemoans the ethnic cleansing of the Native Americans, the original sin of the United States. Anyway, he is killed, but not before rather predictably inspiring Ned.

Back in  England, Beth is kidnapped on her birthday by Abe, about whom we are also supposed to care. He awakens both her sexuality and her political conscience somewhat, but nothing really happens. The episode ends with nothing but set-up having happened and no real sense of where the series is going.

The Devil's Whore: Episode 4

"I took a husband from you."

"You took two."

Suddenly, from a series which has been exploring the heritage of the British Left from the Civil War origins of the Tory/Whig divide, we get what seems to be contemporary political commentary. Lilburne's final days in his Jerseyan Guantanamo may be straight out of the history books, but they have deep contemporary relevance for a drama made in the first decade of the twenty-first century. Cromwell, in choosing rendition over what were, even in 1654, the proper constitutional procedures, begins to look very much like a Blair figure, perhaps even a Bush the Younger, the type who would support ninety day detention and identity cards. His later debate with Angelica over security versus liberty makes this clear, and Lilburne's tragic last few years make it clear that power does not lie with us civil libertarians.

Interesting, then, that all this should be juxtaposed with Cromwell's dismissing of the Rump Parliament, with the prospect of his declaring himself King, and with an angry Sexby, fresh from shooting Percy through the head, confronting him over the circumstances of Rainsborough's death. If Cromwell is Blair here then the comparison is not a flattering one. But then, everyone on the British left considers Blair to be a cuckoo in the Labour nest. Indeed, even we on the non-Orange Booker, Guardian-reading, Coalition-opposing wing of the Lib Dems think of him as a true small "c" conservative, although no Tory. This is also an apt description of the historical Cromwell.

It's nice that, the night before Sexby meets his doom in failing to assassinate Cromwell, he and Angelica should have what the director makes very clear is good, meaningful, loving sex, sex which ultimately results in the birth of a daughter. 

History takes it's course, and a caption informs us of Cromwell's death and the Restoration. There is a happy ending, of sorts, as Angelica's young daughter sees no devil in the tree.

This is a brilliant, brilliant, unappreciated series, and you must go and watch it immediately. Please. It's really rather good.

The Devil's Whore: Episode 3

"We begin again..."

It's very neat, the parallel between the trials of Angelica and the king, both sentenced to die on the same day. Angelica languishes in a miserable cell, giving birth there, jeered at and humiliated over her last few days, with only the Lilburnes for friends, and dies painfully, with the cruel jeers of Percy ringing in her ears. Except she doesn't, because Sexby has replaced the hangman and her death is faked, if still bloody painful.

Charles actually dies. His humiliations are of a lesser type, though significant for a king; he has to pick up the ball from the top of his cane himself when it falls to the floor. Capaldi is amazing here, showing us both the King's arrogance and his vulnerability. His trial is equally unfair, but he, too, has the ironic support of John Lilburne, who will not compromise in matters of justice and gets himself arrested yet again.

Also unjust is Cromwell's behaviour in Ireland, which is more reminiscent of the Thirty Years War than the comparatively civilised conflict in England. Sexby receives advancement, being made a colonel, but the moral compromises he has to make are appalling. He betrays the soldiers under his command, who are hanged by Cromwell although he had assured then they would not be, and in Ireland he is certainly guilty of war crimes.  The plebeian philosopher at last dips his hands in the blood. (Although, of course,he has fought as a mercenary in the Thirty Years War himself; his hands can hardly have been clean in the first place.)

He's not good enough for Angelica, though, as she refuses his proposal of marriage. She may be increasingly radical, but Sexby would still be a match well below her station. Her eventual reluctant acceptance is a defeat for her.

As Sexby bloodied his hands further across the Irish Sea, Angelica continues her journey into radicalism by joining the radical, stoic and bonkers Diggers sect. She is attracted to their lifestyle but alienated by their creepily conformist religiosity, adhering to a vague, hippyish spiritualism. She is finally cast out of this egalitarian paradise, but not before asking why, if all are equal, do women toil in the fields all day and then cook for their children at night?

The most fun part of the episode is, of course, Lilburne's trial and speech, and his triumphant acquittal. But the last few minutes are far from fun; a damaged Sexby arrives back from Ireland and all but rapes his new wife, and then abandons her. And, worse, the ex-Digger with whom Angelica has now shackled up turns out to be an underling of Percy's...

This continues to be superb. It works as melodrama, with dramatic reversals of fortune, but this also serves to parallel with the experiences of the great and good, and to illustrate history, or rather a particular slant of history that seeks to explore the heritage of the British Left and present things, quite deliberately and fairly, a little anachronistically. All history, after all, exists only in relation to the present.

The Devil's Whore: Episode 2

"How did your husband die?"

"Because I was not tamed."

"The world would have you tamed?"

"I know."

"Then the world is full of fools."

It's puzzling, watching The Devil's Whore again, that it was apparently intended to be twelve parts but was cut down to four. It's hard, not having seen the unedited version, to judge the wisdom of this decision; certainly the version we have does not seem unduly rushed, and is superb to boot. But perhaps this reflects how TV execs generally find the Civil War an unsexy period, with its suspicious lack of Tudors or Nazis.

Who cares. This is still top stuff. We're two years on, the programme is still lit to look like the paintings of the Dutch masters, and Angelica incurs the ire of a strangely nasty Percy from Blackadder after killing a man who tries to tape her, something for which she is unlikely to garner much sympathy in the less than enlightened times in which she lives. She grows close to Sexby, though. Both are philosophical and both are excluded from power, one by sex and one by class. Sexby may be rough trade for a lady of her background, but the two of them seem to have much in common.

John Lilburne continues to be in trouble, his ideas being far too radical for even the Parliamentarian establishment (for which read the mainstream, triangulating left), let alone the Royalists. Angelica and Sexby are on his side, though, even though his ideas extend even as far as putting the King on trial. 

Also radical, and sympathetic, is Thomas Rainsborough, an astute politician and military strategist yet, we feel, a little too radical for Cromwell and his ilk. He is immediately and passionately drawn to Angelica, preferring a "free spirit" to a woman who submits to privilege and patriarchy. Sexby, meanwhile, is in gaol and hence unable to seethe with jealousy when she sleeps with him.

Things then get complicated. It is only Rainsborough among the senior Parliamentarians who has the guts to have the King arrested, and it is only Rainsborough who is able to protect Angelica from Percy's nasty, sadistic, misogynistic urge to see her humiliated and hanged.

Lilburne is magnificent, and I'm not just saying this because I so hugely admire the historical Lilburne. Here, he insists to Cromwell that there must be no purge of Parliament without an election. The people will vote for the King's men, as Cromwell point out, but they must have their say, and Lilburne will not budge on that point of principle.

Ironically, Angelica is saved by the freed Sexby threatening Percy and not by any deed of Rainsborough, but she agrees to marry the glamorous general anyway. The lady and the republican have their marriage blessed by a stoic Sexby, and Cromwell agrees to free Lilburne as a wedding gift. The couple are happy ever after.

Except they aren't. Cromwell, embodying all the cynicism of Middle England, has Rainsborough murdered as he furiously prays. Angelica is widowed for a second time and, just to kick her when she's down, Percy arrests her yet again...

This just keeps getting better and better.


Monday, 16 June 2014

The Devil's Whore: Episode 1

"Both armies gave thanks to the same God for the same victory."

I loved this when it was first broadcast in 2007 and I loved it when rewatching it for the blog. It's a neglected gem; a magnificent cast and a script by the people behind Our Friends in the North. The English Civil War is a sadly neglected period in our history, which us a shame; it's a pivotal moment in English and British history and the tribal origins of both right and left in this country; this series is particularly interested in that aspect, and particularly in the heritage of the English left, whether Whig, Liberal or Labour, which has always reminisced about the "Good Old Cause".

The whole thing hangs on Andrea Riseborough's extraordinary performance  as Angelica Fanshawe at a time when she seemed to be all over the telly; remember her turn as the Evil One in BBC4's Long Walk to Finchley? She is exactly what this series needs; quirky yet likeable, with the charisma to be the necessary female need in a series unavoidably crammed with men.

Angelica begins as an aristocratic lady, unthinkingly in the midst of what we can anachronistically call the ancien regime. Angelica knows King Charles I vaguely, but her cousin, best friend and soon to be husband (this is, after all, the aristocracy), is a good mate of the very bizarre Prince Rupert.

Angelica's cousin and husband soon proves that his sexual politics are quite as reactionary as his class politics; in insisting that Angelica be silent in bed he not only shows himself to be crap in bed but gives us a pretty neat metaphor for the patriarchal repression of women.

Angelica has a kind of childlike innocence and a weirdness that makes her a fascinating character, although her vaguely non-Christian spiritualism is arguably a bit anachronistic. Our other audience identification character is the much more grounded and plebeian Edward Sexby, splendidly portrayed by the great John Simm. Sexby is a true everyman, if a somewhat violent and blood-soaked one, an uneducated but thinking centrist whose allegiances shift with his conscience. Any resemblance to the historical Edward Sexby is purely coincidental.

Yet to come into his own at this point is possibly the greatest ever Englishman, John Lilburne, played with an accurately Mackem accent (I'm married to a Geordie) by Tom Goodman-Hill. Dominic West, similarly, uses a very correct East Anglian accent as Oliver Cromwell, who is portrayed very accurately; religiously independent and politically conservative without being (to use a very slight archaism) remotely Tory. There have always been plenty of Cromwells in the Labour Party, of course. West's delivery of his speech defending Lilburne is, however, probably the best thing in what is a superb episode.

The slow descent into civil war is nicely done, with the camera at Edge Hill showing an almost abrasively sunny environment. We see the likes of Cronwell and the side-switching Sexby in the chaotic environment of battle and we get a good look at Michael Fassbender's Thomas Rainsborough who is, unlike Cromwell, a true radical.

The climax features Angelica, I'm the face of Roundhead beseigers, showing considerably more cojones than her foppish husband, only to be castigated by an arrogant Charles for her disobedience to male authority just before she watches her husband.'a execution pour encourager les autres. It is, appropriately, the end of the first chapter and a truly excellent forty-give minutes of television.