The Assassination Bureau (1969)

"Human life is so expendable. So easily replaced, and pleasurable."

This film gets a rough ride from critics, I feel, many of whom just don't get the understated black humour that gives the film its charm. I won't deny that the tone is at times uneven and the premise, great on paper, begins to drag a bit with the monotony of Oliver Reed's Ivan Dragomilovitch having to assassinate his colleagues one by one. But a delightfully urbane and witty Reed, a sexy, unflappable and Emma Peel-sequel Diana Rigg (I love her wardrobe!) and the hugely witty and quotable dialogue make this film a pleasure to watch in spite of its flaws. Hopefully a DVD release in Europe is not too far away; I had to rely on Netflix.

The casting of Telly Savalas to play Lord Bostwick with a blatantly North American accent is often disparaged by critics who miss the fact that the character is clearly based on Lord Beaverbrook. And there are plenty of enjoyable cameos from the likes of Beryl Reid, Roger Delgado, Warren Mitchell and George Coulouris.I thought Vernon Dobtcheff was bogey amusing as a stereotypically lugubrious Russian.

This is a gloriously cynical film, appropriate for one set in an age when war loomed, life was cheaper and it was important, if you had the means, to enjoy life as much as you could while maintaining a raised eyebrow at all times.

Dracula: Prince of Darkness (1966)

"There'll be no morning for us!"

Christopher Lee is the nominal star of this film, but he doesn't get to do much other than be a frightening presence: his only line is "Go on!", twice, and that's only to horses. He doesn't even appear until halfway through the film, and his appearances are rationed. Nevertheless, this is a splendid example of mid-'60s Hammer, with Terence Fisher providing atmosphere aplenty and superb performances from Barbara Shelley and Andrew Keir.

We begin with a flashback, glossing over the fact that this is the second sequel, after Brides of Dracula, to Hammer's original Dracula, but we move swiftly on to our new take, centred on four English travellers and a substitute for Peter Cushing's absent Van Helsing in the person of Keir's Father Sandor.

The eerie mystery of the castle is well-set up and well developed to maximise. Both effects and the  an early sense of foreboding. A young Philip Latham (we Doctor Who fans know him as President Borusa from The Five Doctors) is superb as a sinister butler in the early part of the film, but Thorley Walters also puts in a strong turn as Ludwig, an obvious Renfield substitute.

The central scene of the film- Dracula's resurrection- is superb, comparable I. Effect to a regeneration in Doctor Who. Both the effects and the framing of the scene are utterly masterful. Sufficiently so, in fact, as to successfully gloss over how easy it is for the supposedly dead vampire to be revived.

The ending is sudden, perhaps, but better this than it outstay its welcome. This is an excellent example of Hammer during its golden years.

The Skull (1965)

"All I can say to you is to keep away from the skull of the Marquis de Sade!"

I haven't reviewed a film featuring the great Sir Christopher Lee since his sad and fairly recent death, which is remiss of me. So I decided, on a whim, that this rather interesting-looking Amicus film, directed by the ever-reliable Freddie Francis, might do the trick. Perhaps it isn't Lee's biggest role- he's very much the guest star to an extraordinary starring performance from Peter Cushing here- but he is, nevertheless, superb. The auction scene alone (a cameo from Michael Gough!) shows that.

The film is excellently shot and made and, while the effects at the end are a little dated, that's all part of the film's charm. The film isn't perfect- the only two female characters exist only to be imperilled, and the Bechdel test is well and truly flunked, as you'd expect, and perhaps the pacing could be improved- but it's carried by Cushing's extraordinary performance: the moment towards the end where, with facial acting alone, he shows himself being possessed by the skull- is extraordinary.

Yes, there are cliches aplenty- we even have a police inspector dressed exactly like Clouseau in his coat and hat- but this Poe-like tale, in which Cushing's Chris Maitland, a rich collector of macabre items who doesn't enquire too closely into the ethics of their acquiral, is slowly unhinged and turned to murder by the cursed skull of the Marquis de Sade, is suitably griping. We get a satisfyingly lurid account of Sade's life, and some rather nice use of flashback to show us the skull's deadly history. It's only the slight slowness of the admittedly well-directed climax that lets the side down slightly.

This may be a slightly obscure film, but it's worth catching on Netflix if you can and, at 82 minutes, doesn't outstay it's welcome. 

The Woman in Black (2012)

"She makes us do it..."

This is the first of the new wave of Hammer horrors I've seen and, if this is anything to go by, I'm glad that Hammer are back. It's also interesting to see Daniel Radcliffe excel in his first true cinematic adult role- as a father and widower, no less. How very pointedly adult.

This is a solid and impressive adaptation of Susan Hill's 1983 novel by Jane Goldman, who has written many excellent films of a fantasy bent. I'd still like to see the 1989 TV adaptation, as it's written by the great Nigel Kneale, but this script is pretty awesome. Similarly, it's odd to see the likes of Jessica Raine and Roger Allam in such small parts but the cast here is excellent. So is the direction. In short, it's good.

I should probably be clear that I haven't read the original novel, but I found the plot satisfying and the film even a little scary. A little bit, at least. And I'm so much of a rationalist that, unlike my endearingly terrified wife this evening, I'm rarely actually scared of horror films.

Rationalism versus superstition is a theme here, of course, with Sam Daily holding out as the only person in the village who isn't superstitious. In the real world he'd be right, of course, but this is a horror film. And, I think, we're meant to notice the unfortunate class overtones of the rationalist country squire and the  superstitious peasants. But the film's theme, at heart, is the human cost of high infant mortality, which may have been a fact of life a hundred years ago it still must have absolutely destroyed people.

This film is really about the imagery, though; the creepy dolls, the revealed writing in blood behind the wallpaper, the sudden shocks and the innate horrors of Victoriana. It's true horror; in this modern world of "horror" films where the spectacle of gore overshadows true suspense and shock, this is the real deal, brought right up to date and more than worthy of the Hammer name.

Humans: Episode 8

"You would trap us in our own minds: give us feelings but take away our free will. Make us slaves."

It's the season finale, and I've only just worked out that Danny Webb's character is called Hobbs. Moving swiftly on...

Season finales often fail to dazzle because they have narrative jobs to do, tying up both plot and thematic loose ends, which gives the writer less time for the fun stuff. For that reason this isn't my favourite episode of the season, but it is nevertheless the perfect season finale. It satisfyingly ties up all loose ends, on a surprisingly optimistic note, and is a damn good bit of telly to boot.

The above quote is from Fred to Hobbs, and sums up how he's revealed here as the most evil character by far: fully understanding that the synths are sentient, he nevertheless wishes to enclave them. Fortunately, the rest of the episode takes pains to reject the notion that human nature as a whole is this dark. The Hawkins family, our Everyfamily, have done good. Even Pete and (ironically) Karen overcome their prejudice against synths to do the right thing, and are touchingly rewarded by getting together again at the end.

Most of all, we get a plausible happy ending, for families Hawkins and synth, following the apparently hopeless situation at the end of last episode. No one loses their liberty. No one loses their life, not even Max. The only loose end is what happens to the synth sentience program: no decisions are made on whether to grant sentience for all people (that's for the next series, about which there has been much rejoicing in the Llamastrangler household), but it's profoundly moving that Niska, with her deep suspicion of humans, should leave it with Laura as someone who has earned her trust. What we don't learn u till later is that Niska, a loner once again, has a copy of her own...

Also reaffirming our beliefs in the essential goodness of humans is the moment where Laura finally tells Joe about Tom. Joe has shown himself to be distinctly flawed throughout the series, but his only reaction is horror that Laura has carried this burden alone. Working together for a common cause has brought the family together by the end, in a satisfyingly and defiantly positive message. This is brilliant, brilliant telly.

Zombieland (2009)

"So, do you have any regrets?"

"Garfield, maybe?"

No, in spite of the title, the year of release and Jesse Eisenberg, this film isn't connected to Adventureland. What it is, though, is bloody brilliant, a fantastically metatextual take (you know I love that kind of thing) on the whole zombie genre. Right from the start, with the narrative being based around Columbus' rules of survival in "Zombieland", this is a fun watch.

Yes, a metatextual zombie comedy has been done before in the form of Shaun of the Dead, which I must get round to blogging someday, but this is very different. Shaun of the Dead is a small, claustrophobic film based in London and set, in any case, on a small island. Zombieland is able to use the huge, continental size of the USA to show the full and terrible scale of the zombie apocalypse, and then have some fun. Oh, and 28 Days Later has had an influence: these zombies run.

Eisenberg's Columbus is fantastic both as a character and as narrator- a loner, a nerd, a virgin, possibly on the spectrum, but in circumstances like these he's ultimately able to get the girl, the girl in this case being the delightfully devious con artist Wichita. This could be said to be the best and weirdest romantic comedy I've seen this year.

 The stand-out character, though, is Tallahassee, with Woody Harrelson stealing every scene he's in as the loud, eccentric and very Southern Twinkie obsessive. There's a tragic side even to him, though: we eventually learn that the "puppy" he lost was in fact his son. This is enough to communicate the pathos but, wisely, is not dwelt in. Too great a focus on the human tragedy of the zombie apocalypse would spoil the fun.

The best bit of the film, albeit too brief, is of course the section with Bill Murray playing himself: one gets the distinct idea that Tallahassee, Bill's biggest fanboy, is acting as the authorial voice here. You can see his point: Bill is fantastic. And apparently Eddie Van Halen is a zombie roaming around Hollywood.

Basically, this film rules and absolutely has to be seen. But I knew that as soon as the opening titles started with Metallica's "For Whom the Bell Tolls".

Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell: Arabella

"I merely asked questions. Surely that is the prerogative of any pupil?"

This is the episode where all turns dark. Strange, up till now both a member of the landed gentry and of the Establishment, hob-nobbing with cabinet ministers and the future Duke of Wellington, has his fall. He is widowed (sort of), disgraced (sort of), imprisoned and well on the way to madness. It is worth asking why Susanna Clarke punishes the character so. Simple narrative reasons? Hubris? Or are there deeper themes at work?

Strange's devastation at the loss of his wife is total. The current breast with his conventional brother-in-law- an old-fashioned country parson who still wears a wig in the late 1810s- is instructive. Strange, at first, seems to be the more together of the two but, while Henry goes through deep mourning and thus finds acceptance, Strange remains obsessed with the resurrection of his wife through magic, and this is his apparent undoing. There is much in this to support the theory that Strange represents the Romantic movement as opposed to the old-fashioned values of the Enlightenment, empiricist philosophy and high Whiggery which can be attributed to Norrell, at least superficially.

But is this too easy a conclusion? Yes, Strange has his archetypal fall, like Prometheus and any number of flawed tragic heroes. But he is an awkward fit with the tragic model, always retaining something of the manner of the unflappable fop, a sort of Sir Percy Blakeney of wizardry. I'll admit it's been almost a decade since I read Susanna Clarke's excellent novel, but both Peter Harness' script and Bertie Carvel's increasingly sublime performance seem to pointedly resist any suggestion of the conventional tragedy. There is also the fact that, as with Lady Pole, we are looking at a tragedy straight out of the darkness of pre-Grimm fairy tales. Perhaps the point is simply that life is capriciously harsh (making faeries a good metaphor) and we must be stoic. But we shal see how my views evolve.

Otherwise, the episode looks sublime, as always, courtesy of Toby Haynes. Bertie Caevel is extraordinary now he is suddenly given more demanding material, fully justifying his recent promotion to the A list of television actors. Both of the two female characters (Arabella and Lady Pole) in this very male world have now  been stripped of all agency by masculine design, quite literally. And we have a failed but very interesting attempt by Strange to reach agreement with Norrell which is stifled by the slimy Lascelles. Increasingly, it is Notrell's view of magic which holds sway in England and, increasingly, Strange is opposed to his Augustan Age reason and neatness. 

Oh, and there's a very interesting meeting between Strange and Childermass in which Norrell's manservant shows just how aware and able he is: potentially as great as either of the two magicians, he is hobbled by his social class. 

We end, though, with Strange at a seemingly low ebb, seeking faeries and madness. Once again this is a splendid piece of telly, written and shot to avoid the obvious readings and make the viewer think. Two episodes left...

Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell: All the Mirrors of the World

A guest post once again from MrVortexOfDoom, whose YouTube us most definitely worth a look for those of us who like to see excellent reconstructions of '60s Doctor Who. We will be splitting Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell between us. So, without further ado...

Jealousy Shines Through

Episode 4: All the Mirrors Of The World – 

an alternative review by MrVortexOfDOOM.

“You must learn to live as I do - in the face of constant criticism, opposition and censure. That, sir, is the English way”

Storytelling 101 states that, in any adaptation, screenplay or script, your start should be strong and your ending should be sharp and clean, possibly one that not many people expect. But they never say much about the middles. They are the great unknown of fiction and storytelling. So, if, in my mind, you get all the threads to meet up with not much casualty of plot, you are doing pretty well.

Episode Four is the midpoint, the point where the show is treading water, ready for its explosive last episodes. Or that’s how it should be. However, by a very clever sleight of hand (worthy of Vinculus himself), the series merges three key elements (which normally could bog down the script) into a dynamic sequence propelling you into the second half. From Gatcombe and Tantony (the Nottinghamshire brewers) to the King's Roads and beyond to Drawlight's unveiling is a fantastic sequence which must have been a nightmare to edit being as it is a mix of little-glimpsed sequences, episode parts, asides and nuances.

Plus, the episode has to introduce the major theme of madness in magic by the back door while keeping all the existing strands alive. Strange's trip through the Kings Roads for the first time. Lady Pole being sent to Segundus & Honeyfoot's Starecross (which I believe is referred to as the madhouse/asylum/Bedlam for the first time). Drawlight and Lascelles as Norrell's Jekyll and Hyde continuing their campaign of spite and manipulation. Plus the massive revelations with George the Third, which, here, is edited down to the bare bones, but still manages to keep some of its menace. 

In the promo pictures before the series aired, the bloody Childermass image at the location of the Hanged Man had a mirror instead of a face. And the country scene on the inside of the piano looked exactly like one of the bridges on the King's Roads between our land and the land of Faerie. It is true that you learn something every time you watch.

The series also continues to reward you with the entrancing mix of humour and practical drama. The practical natural aspects of the summoning spell. Colquhoun Grant being hilariously professional in the background while Jonathan and Arabella are having their domestic. The reference to the Cinques Dragownes (the magical court) which takes up a hefty chapter of the book.

And the acting gongs which this week go for me to Edward Hogg & Brian Pettifer as Segundus and Honeyfoot as Starecross gets its dynamite first client. Love John all serious, dressed up in his evil doctor's white coat. 

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The picture of John Uskglass in the King's palace manages to be spooky, prescient and yet a precise summary of the last three episodes all at once. You feel that only a superior natural magician of high standing and power could perform the miracles that we have so far seen. But with the frosting of the mirrors, the boundaries between the worlds are cracking – and nothing will be the same again.

VoD 2015

Adventureland (2009)

"You don't want 'virgin' to be your signifier."

"He takes one semiotics class..."

Ah, the nostalgia. Those halcyon days of uni, youth, much alcohol, the smoking of certain substances (not entirely off topic for this film!), terrible nightclubs (ditto) and Saussurean linguistics. It takes me back.

First things first, though: in spite of the fact that both films star Jesse Eisenberg, both were released in 2009 and both have similar titles, this film is not connected to Zombieland. Not, despite the uncanny similarities of Jesse Eisenberg's character getting dumped as he's introduced to us, is it connected to The Social Network.

It is, however, a brilliant and justly acclaimed film that deserves to be better known. Oh, structurally it may be a romantic comedy by numbers: boy meets girl; boy loses girl through series of complex event involving love triangles on both sides; boy really goes extra mile and gets girl back. The structure is nothing new. But within that structure it's funny: the dialogue is witty, intellectual and laugh out load hilarious. The characterisation is similarly superb. Basically, it rocks. And Joel is officially the coolest guy ever.

Even better than that, though, is the soundtrack. This film is set in an expertly realised 1987, and the tone is alternative '80s, meaning loads of my favourite bands. We open to "Bastards of Young" by the Replacements, no less, and the emotionally pivotal scene gets "Unsatisfied", a song which I love passionately and which, if you haven't yet heard, you must hear immediately. Seriously. The Velvet Underground are, quite rightly, everywhere and, incidentally, the subtitles tell me I've been getting the lyrics wrong for "Here She Comes Now" for years. Er, "She becomes my mouth", anyone?

Give this overlooked film a chance. It rocks in more ways than one.

Humans: Episode 7

"Oh, David. What did you do?"

Things get more and more intense this episode until the climax, which promises to lead to an emotionally draining finale. Humans, it's now clear, is one of the all time greats of British television.

The world has turned upside-down. Laura has to learn to make her own coffee again. But we begin ominously, with a flashback to Karen's creation and her traumatic rejection by Leo and her other siblings. In the present, protest rallies indicate an ominous was beyond the characters we know. 

The synths and the Hawkins'- including Joe- are altogether and seem to be getting on in a way which, despite some awkwardness, seems at first to hold out hope for peaceful co-existence. Even Joe seems to accept the nature of these sentient synth siblings. Best of all, it seems that Max could possibly be saved.

But in the background lurks Karen, whose story comes out both through Pete's investigations and in her conveniently expository chat with George. It seems Karen represents the overreaching of David Elster- a recreation of his dead beloved. His other creations reacted with hostility to her unveiling, and that night he killed himself. Karen has been left conversation need that she and her sentient synths are not meant to be, and must be destroyed. This is disturbing. Is she so very different, in extending her death wish to others, to those who kill their families before turning the gun on themselves? There is no excuse for her. She wants to murder sentient beings. And (I'm calling it) this makes her capable of killing humans. It must be her- not Niska, not Fred- who is the killer synth.

One thing is certain: she shoots George, and that's a shock. Is it an accident? Perhaps. Still, George's death is extremely moving, with the similarly dying Odi by his side, filling his last moments with memories of his late wife.

That's the most moving moment. The most disturbing is when Mia discusses with him how he had sex with Anita, telling him that "I was in there the whole time". Mia is clever, psychologically acute, nice and has a sense of humour. She may joke to Laura that "They think we plan to conquer the planet and make humanity our slaves", but the point is that synths have no united agenda of any kind. Why should they? They may not be human, but they're people, with all the messy diversity that implies.

And yet- can synths truly be happy in their skin? Karen isn't. And, as Leo tells Mattie. We are not emotionally designed for perfect recall. It is a curse to be denied the luxury of forgetting. That's the think about Humans: it's always throwing out cool ideas like this.

Our happy little family of Hawkinses and synths is upset by discord, firstly by the evaluation that Joe called the police on Leo and Max, and secondly by some TV footage of Niska at the synth Fight Club implying that she's a killer. (Is she? I think not, and the heartwarming scenes of her playing with Sophie are there to get us to earn to her.)

Max, it seems, cannot be salvaged, but the code in his head is still there, and could be used to bring sentience to all synths worldwide. But that's a whole different kettle of fish, and starts a debate for which there simply isn't time: Laura, putting her family first, asks them to leave. But, before they can do so, the trap springs. Karen betrays them, and riot police storm the house....

How can I be expected to wait until Sunday? How?

Freaky Friday (2003)

"I look like Stevie Nicks!"

"Who's he?"

Another remake by Disney, then, and yet again this is a rare case of a remake being superior to the original. It's much better paced, for a start- as firmly established by the opening montage- and a hell of a lot less sexist; this time the mother, Tess, is a psychiatrist rather than a housewife and the daughter, Anna, plays lead guitar in a band that sounds a bit like the Donnas or Verruca Salt. 

(While we're on the subject, incidentally, the film has an excellent soundtrack. And I'm reminded how good mainstream guitar music was back in 2003. Unlike Anna, I rather liked the White Stripes.)

This is a much faster-paced film than the original, thanks both to a much snappier s riot which cuts down on needless exposition and a much more creative directorial style; kids' films have changed a lot in twenty-seven years.

But the standout reason why the film is so watchable is, of course, Janie Lee Curtis, a superbly talented comic actress. As for Lindsay Lohan... well, personal life aside, she can certainly act.

Downsides? You could argue that there's a little light racism directed against the Chinese, perhaps, but while this isn't perfect I think that would be a more than harsh judgement. Could a band really win a competition in spite of its guitarist doing naff all for the first minutes of the song? I think yet. But I'm not going to labour the point. This isn't the greatest film ever made, being a bit of lightweight fluff designed for watchability rather than depth, yes. But there's nothing wrong with that. Well worth watching.

Humans: Episode 6

"If you power me down now, I will be unable to penetrate your wife."

It had to be that quote. There were plenty of potentials early on but when that one came along I knew it was The One.

Anyway, Humans. The revelations and the drama continue as per the last two episodes in what is turning out to be an interesting visually well-paced eight-parter, with no signs thus far of things dragging. Yes, there are times where the story has slowed down to explore theme and character, but there has been no padding. The writers deserve praise for that. 

They also deserve praise for this episode as a whole. The early scene with Fred, thus far a neglected character, both shows him to be a fascinating individual and raises the possibility that he, not Biska or Karen, may turn out to be the "killer synth". He's now on the loose. Max, too, gets a chance to shine, and die heroically to boot, as we examine his personality. He's a lovely bloke- loving, caring,  trusting, if not stupidly so, and with a faith in both humanity and, tentatively at least, God; the scene where he prays is quietly powerful. And yet he's the one who dies in an act of self sacrifice. What happens to Leo we will find out next week.

The repercussions of Joe's somewhat tapes act of infidelity are profound, yet they lead to a moving rapprochement of sorts between Laura and Mattie as we discover who the mysterious Tom was. It seems he was Laura's younger brother, who died as a child while his older sister was dying to look after him. Since then Laura has been dead to her awful mother, and Laura is terrified that the cycle is continuing with her and Mattie. I feel it won't, somehow.

The relationship between Biska and George continues to fascinate; Niska won't admit it, but heckles the old man. And we empathise with him, too, especially as we discover that George, after a stroke, has forgotten all about his late wife, relying on Odi to keep memories for him. It's clear he loves that poorly synth.

Niska, meanwhile, is five years younger than Mia and, it's implied, was used early on by David Elster as a concubine. Lovely. How very rapey. There's an obvious parallel here with Joe. 

Most dramatically, though, Mia makes a brief appearance to Laura and Mattie; the Anita personality keeps deleting her on the surface but she is always there in the nervous system, a metaphor for the subconscious. Interestingly, she says that she lost a son. This leads to Mattie and Laura making contact with a philosophical Max and a disconsolate and nearly dead Leo. At this point the revelations cone thick and fast, about David Elster's use of synth tech to resurrect his brain-dead son, of Nia being made as his surrogate mother, then Fred, Niska and Max, before his mysterious suicide. 

Mia agrees to stay with Laura and Mattie for the time being, but the increasingly creepy Hoe decides to snitch on Leo and Max, with the aforementioned tragic consequences. Is this the point where he stops being an empathetic character and just becomes pathetic?

Perhaps the most tragic character is Karen, though: after making love to her "favourite human", Pete, she all but declared her love for him and reveals her true nature, only to be horribly rejected by the appalled Pete, whose dislike of synths is well-established. This is yet another cliffhanger on an episode which is even more superb than usual. I can't wait until next time.

Humans: Episode 5

"She saved our son's life. And you're calling her a sex toy!"

Lots of revelations this week, some of them dramatic. It may be an episode of, essentially, exposition, but this is how you do it.

We begin with the meme of a "killer synth" having escaped into the public imagination, and we assume that it's Niska. Isn't that too obvious, though? Could it be Karen, for example? Interesting, if so: she and Pete are put on to the case.

We continue with a family debate about what to do with Anita. Joe, with a dirty secret to hide, wants rid of her, but no one else does, motivated by curiosity and not a little affection. Something is going to happen.

Leo sends Niska to George, where she'll be safe,which is awfully crazy newbie to because the two of them are both fascinating in their interaction and able to further the plot by exchanging information; for the first time it's confirmed that Niska was constructed by the mysterious David Elster.

Joe nearly succeeds in getting rid of Anita and his dirty secret, but she is rescued by the increasingly heroic Matilda and taken to Leo and Max, only for a devastated Leo to ultimately fail at restoring Mia from inside her. This is a crushing blow both to him and to us.

George experiences a fascinating, philosophical side to Niska, as he exposure that he was "lured over" from MIT, twenty-five years ago, to join David Elster in his work. But Elster, apparently, intended to pursue consciousness, hence his children. Even curiouser, Leo Elster was officially declared brain dead; this gives us a heavy hint as to how and why he now appears to be some sort of cyborg.

The big revelation finally arrives: Mattie notices that Anita's sex circuits have been activated. At first Leo is blamed, and is happy to take the rap for his dad, but Joe isn't quite as bad as all that and eventually confesses. This is very well written and played; Joe is arguably a rapist of sorts, but he is not played as a monster, just as a weak man. Tom Goodman-Hilll deserves a lot of praise here.

This leads, of course, to a lot of drama and to Laura throwing Joe out. Whatever the arguments about whether he's committed adultery or a type of masturbation with a sex toy, what really disgusts Laura is how rapey it all feels.

Pete, meanwhile, has his anti-synth feelings reinforced throughout the episode- he has, after all, been cuckolded by one. An interesting scene sees him attending an event on the streets, addressed by a fascinatingly persuasive anti-synth demagogue. All this is clearly leading up to something. As are many things. Humans still rocks.

The Battleship Potemkin (1925)

"Down with tsarism!"

Obviously, this is a much-admired film, largely because of the inspiring and extraordinary effective use of montage in the "Odessa Steps" sequence to manipulate our emotions. Sergei Eisenstein, like a Bolshevik Steven Spielberg, uses masterful framing and editing techniques to maximise the pathos of the (entirely fictional) massacre of the universally revolutionary population of Odessa at the hands of some nasty Cossacks. It is indeed both effective and extraordinarily both technically as cinema and as propaganda; Goebbels admired The Battleship Potemkin. Not to the point of allowing it to be shown in Nazi Germany, of course, but he admired it as propaganda. But what is left for me to say about it?

Well, the Odessa Steps sequence is but six minutes out of seventy-three. The rY pRt of the film is set entirely within the cramped confines of the eponymous battleship, a considerable contrast with the later scenes. Tension is built up, with an officer attacking a recruit, unprovoked, and maggot-riven meat being the catalyst for an uprising. The moustaches and stiff collars of the officers- this is 1905 and the time of the Sevastopol uprising and the Japanese victory over Russia- alienate them from us as much as their evil, scowling faces. This being propaganda, characterisation is simple. Vakulinchuk, the leader of the revels, is martyred and fetishised much as was being done to the recently departed Lenin shortly before the film was made. And it's tempting to see Vakulinchuk, more directly than Marx, as the I spirTion for the character of Old Major in Heorge Orwell's Animal Farm.

The Russian navy of 1905 looks positively Nelsonisn in parts, with its hammocks and maggot-infested meat. But I suppose the impression of ancient regime archaism is the point. The film is based on an event, manipulated and used to stand for the Russian Revolution in microcosm. 

This is a genuine milepost in cinematic technique on the part of the Odessa Steps sequence. I wouldn't say it's quite as affecting as its reputation- I found the sailors less than hugely sympathetic- but it's a film every film buff should see. If nothing else, it's an early triumph of direction.

Penny Dreadful: Verbis Diablo

"Is this what it's like to go mad? Your darkest fears made manifest before your eyes?"

More of the same superbly stylish horror-tinged Victoriana, then, as the focus shifts away from Mrs Poole and her witch underlings' psychic war against Vanessa to the careful simmering of other incipient plotlines.

First we have Caliban and his bride, named Lily by Frankenstein, as her creator shows her how to use language. Yet there are hints that she is becoming much closer to her creator than to her "betrothed". A surprising emphasis is placed on Sir Malcolm introducing Vanessa to the experience of charity work he performs to soothe his soul, but the main function of this scene is probably to engineer a meeting, and an interesting philosophical chat, between Caliban and Vanessa. The two do not agree on religion, but they seem to find a mutual affection and understanding.

Dorian Gray still pines for Vanessa, but is accosted by a prostitute, Veronique, who is bold enough to tell him that she fancies the pants off him, or Victorian words to that effect. Upon visiting her at her brother (she needs a firm hand, apparently!), of course, he is both unsurprised and unbothered to see that she is transgender, as the Victorians would certainly not have said, and genitally male.

There is also an erotic frisson between Sir Malcolm and Mrs Poole, mich though he may insist that, although separated, he is married and thus unavailable: the principled Victorian gentleman.

Mrs Poole is, of course, extremely nasty, calling Vanessa the c word and blackmailing poor Mr Lyle, who has the misfortune of being born at a bad time to be gay. Mr Lyke is extremely likeable, both for his endearing mannerisms in flirting with Ethan  ("American! I am undone!") and for his knowledge of the eponymous Verbis Diablo, a demonic and little-known tongue which Vanessa has been speaking. But the history is ominous; the writer of the sole extant text was burned at the stake.

We end with some quite disturbing scenes as Mrs Poole, surrounded by some extremely freaky dolls, proceeds to vivisect a recently-kidnapped baby, which isn't very nice but is a triumph of direction on the part of James Hawes. This is a most effectively freaky scene.

And Mrs Poole has a freaky dummy of Vanessa...

Humans: Episode 4

"I'm an analogue man in a digital world..."

The usual excellence continues in terms of script, execution and performances, but this time the plot gathers pace. I haven't minded the slow pace of the plot so far- it's been fun exploring this fascinating world and characters- but now it's time for things to pick up pace. And that's what we get.

Our first bombshell is when Pete, our distinctly robophobic sacked detective, gets dumped, cuckolded (symbolically, at least) by a synth called Simon. But soon we turn back to our main family, as Anita seems to show affection towards Toby and Joe wrongly suspects Laura of having an affair. The point is, though, that their relationship is in such a state that he could think such a thing. Laura, meanwhile, gets ever more intrigued about Anita and her increasing signs of sentience ("Anita, do you ever get scared?" "I think everyone does").

A line gets crossed, though, when Joe activates Anita's sex drive and does the deed with her. I suppose there's a debate to be had about whether this was technically sex or masturbation, but there's no doubt that he's cheated on Laura. And it's implicit that he will eventually be found out, especially as Laura wants to take Anita for a diagnostic check and to delve into her past.

A linked ethical dilemma occurs at a party for the youngsters: Mattie behaves, quite rightly, as though having sex with an unconscious synth is rape. Because, if men behave like that to synths, even those without sentience, they will do the same to women. But, of course, the underlying thought (most blatantly shown by the case of the woman objecting to her synth being ejected from a theatrical performance on grounds of his "human" rights) is about the ethics of how we should behave to artificial intelligences. At what point does it stop being a household appliance and start being an enslaved person? The answer, I suppose, lies in the concept of the Singularity.

There's an intriguing meeting between Mattie and Leo, but it isn't long before she rather cleverly gives them the slip. Still, he and Max are clearly getting closer and closer to "Mia". Laura and Joe discover more about her at the diagnostic check, too: far from being new, she's at least fourteen years old. Still, at least Joe's infidelity remains a secret for now.

Things really hot up at the end with the respective plotlines of Leo and Niska. Firstly, Leo meets Geirge Mullican and reveals that he is Leo Elster, the apparently dead son of the mysterious David Elster, who apparently granted sentience to Mia, Max, Niska and Fred.  It seems, also, thT a mysterious program is written into all of them, with all needing to be together for the jigsaw to be complete.

Niska's storyline, though, gets disturbing. Discovering not only prejudice against synths but a secret club for humans to beat synths into a synthetic pulp, she responds by angrily beating up the humans, only to find that the synths she "rescued" are nothing but uncaring machines. Still, this means war between Niska and humanity; her storyline isn't going to end well. We end the episode with her capture by the police seemingly inevitable except that she receives an unexpected phone call. Leo drops his bombshell and, in rather thrilling scenes, she escapes. 

There's one final surprise, though; Katen has accepted Peter into her home for the time being and we're misdirected into thinking that there may be sexual tension between them until the final few seconds and the big reveal: Karen is a synth!!! This is all the more effective for the cleverness of the misdirection.

Humans, at this point, is by far the best thing that's been on telly this year. Utterly superb.

Humans: Episode 3

"Dr. Millican! This is highly unsafe!"

Humans just keeps getting better and better. And that Kraftwerk-inspired theme tune is really growing on me.

Last week's cliffhanger is resolved, perhaps, with a bit of a cheat; Anita gets a reprieve by saving Toby's life, and by that point it's clear that no one else in her family agrees with her about taking Anita back. Nothing is resolved, though. Not for Anita and not within the family.

Probably the standout performances of the episode (taking Rebecca Chan's awfulness for granted, that is) are Rebecca Front as the tyrannical synth nurse Vera and Emily Berrington as the increasingly disturbed and upset Niska, for whom the world grows ever more nightmarish. It is a world like ours, but with little tell-tale signs of synth charging points. Immutable human nature is present and correct, but the synths are having a malign effect, an effect largely foreshadowed in Isaac Asimov's tales of the Spacers. But I doubt we'll be getting an Elijah Baley here. Instead we have an awkward and vaguely transgressive sexual tension between Joe and Anita as she asks him to inspect her naked body for damage. Is it mutual? Worse, with the addition of young Toby could we have a budding love triangle here?

Meanwhile, Niska's murder of that paedophile last episode is being investigated by detectives Pete and Karen, setting off a chain of events leading to the distinctly synth-phobic Pete losing his job. The whole thing is covered up; the public must not be told that the synths on which they rely could sometimes be killers. Now, though, Niska is deciding that, not only is she going to go rogue from human society, she also wants to dissociate herself from the mysterious Leo and become the ultimate lone wolf. Do I suspect some sort of one woman crusade against humans may be in the offing? Interestingly, she is seen reading The Ghost in the Machine by Arthur Koestler. Mrs Llamastrangler is reminded of Alpha from Dollhouse.

Niska gets an interesting series of scenes in which she allows a man to pick her up and follows him home, expecting him to be violent, lecherous and nasty and intending to kill him. Instead, he turns out to be nice, interested in her as a person and a devoted father. Instead of killing him, she simply leaves.

The episode's most tragic scene sees George, seemingly, saying a final goodbye to the malfunctioning Odi, who runs into the woods to die. Or so it seems. But it seems George has a past; he was deeply involved with the development of synths. Anita's past as Mia is briefly revealed during an abortive hack by Matilda, but she posts the results online. It seems that buried secrets from the past will soon be uncovered. One of them seems likely to be the mysterious "Tom", whom Laura does not wish to discuss. A lover? A dead child? Something else?

Humans is so good I just don't know how to praise it. I'm salivating at the thought of the five episodes to come.

Any Requests?

Any requests for what you'd like me to cover on the blog? Obviously, I'm limited in the access I have to stuff, but I've a fairly large collection. 

Also, which series/films I've done do you particularly like? Just curious for some feedback!

The Doctor Who Pubcast

Here be the latest of Nick's and my Doctor Who Pubcasts. Previous instalments are also available...

http://dwpubcast.podomatic.com/entry/2015-06-30T13_23_36-07_00

Fifty Shades of Grey (2015)

"Are you gay?"

Before I say anything else, I should praise the way this film is shot by Sam Taylor-Wood. I'm not sure about the washed-out colours ("grey", yes, very clever), but she has shot the film with a lot of style and used some rather neat narrative tricks, particularly the montage illustrating the contract between Ana and Grey; large pieces of text are difficult to get across well onscreen, but Taylor-Wood delivers here. She does as good a job with the source material as can be done. The script also adapts the novel well.

However, it's still based on the novel by E.L. James and it's intrinsic virtues and flaws. The novel does not pretend to be literary fiction, but it is rather well-written, with good prose, engaging characters and a fast and dramatic plot. It may not be very deep, but there's nothing wrong with that. It would have been better if James had employed a proper proofreader instead of letting her husband do it, but it isn't a bad novel. Except in its message. And the film cannot help but follow suit.

The main problem I have with both book and film is Christian Grey. I dislike him as a character, I would intensely dislike him as a person if he was real, and I find him a somewhat disturbing subject for female desire. He's a bully, a control freak, a stalker, and he and Ana have an abusive relationship. There. I've said it.

And none of this, I hasten to add, is in any way to do with BDSM. I have issues with how the media (and this is a prime suspect) treats BDSM as being about dominant males and submissive females whereas, in reality, it's just as likely to be the other way round. Indeed, BDSM has its origins in gay culture and remains something of a gay-heavy subculture. But BDSM itself is a perfectly healthy thing, done safely and consensually. 

The problem with Christian isn't that he's a dominant, and there isn't a single sex scene in the film which wouldn't be perfectly ok in a different context, but that he's a weird, damaged control freak who does what he does out of a desire to hurt women as revenge for his mother's failings- pretty basic misogyny. There are lots of alarm bells. For a start, he wants to dominate a woman who isn't into the lifestyle when he meets her, which is in itself deeply dodgy. He's trying to psychologically manipulate her into submitting to him when she has no prior desire to do so. That's deeply creepy and I'm of the opinion that Ana is rushed and pressured into "consenting". That's more than a bit rapey.

The book, and the film by extension, could do a great deal of harm, firstly in propagating misleading ideas about BDSM and, most worryingly, encouraging naive women in the audience to enter into abusive relationships masquerading as such.

BDSM aside, it's not exactly feminist to present a rich man as a wish fulfilment figure, as though the place of a woman is to marry a man who can look after her and just be an ornament.

All that said, Jamie Dornan does an excellently nuanced job of playing the character. He does the best with an impossible job, and impresses. And that's something that can be said of the film as a whole: it does a good job of adapting material which is deeply dodgy in what it is saying.

Grimm: Cry Havoc

"If it's any consolation, Kenneth is dead..."

... And now so is Juliette. Who saw that coming? It's quite a twist, as is her entire character arc throughout the latter part of the season. Bitsie gets to bow out with an awesome death concluding an awesome storyline. Yes, Kenneth dies too, but that's less important; he's just an ersatz Prince Viktor, and still feels like a blatant replacement, filling in a part originally planned for Alexis Denisof.

This is a big season finale, a highly entertaining one, but it's sadly devalued by both Debisof's absence and the fact that it opens with the revelation that Kelly is dead through means of showing, not telling, as Mary Elizabeth Madtrantonio didn't even appear in the episode in which her character died. These things matter, to put it mildly.

Still, everything else is sufficient to bring the standard up. It's a good finale, it really is, but there's a certain epic quality missing through the lack of said personnel. The dogs of war bark, and bark well, but they don't quite bite.

It's nice, and near, to see the late Kenneth being framed for the Jack the Ripper murders. And it's nice to see Kenneth getting arrested (his fake surname, from his passport, is "Bowes-Lyon", the late Queen Mother's maiden name!), but then taken to an honest, old-fashioned bout of fisticuffs with Nick. In which Nick, predictably, kills him.

Meanwhile, Juliette seems to be getting on with the deliciously evil King, who, it seems, is called Frederick, and who casually abandons Kenneth to his death. There's one more twist, however; just as we think the King has won, and is leaving Portland in a helicopter with his granddaughter Diana... she kills him. It seems this little princess, the child of Sean and Adalind, is firmly with the resistance.

Nick, though, has lost everything- both his mother and his fiancée. Still, it seems to be all over... until that FBI woman arrives, indicating that Trubel may have accepted her offer. What's been happening with Trubel? We have an agonisingly long wait to find out.

Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell: The Education of a Magician

"Can a magician kill a man by magic?"

"I suppose a magician might. But a gentleman never could."

And on we go. More creative direction from Toby Haynes, more faithful adaptation of the novel by Peter Harness and more top notch villainy from Marc Warren. This continues to be a superb piece of television fantasy for all the reasons mentioned previously. And now we're getting to the really good bits. Jonathan Strange's adventures in the Peninsular War were always my favourite part of the novel, and they're just as extraordinary here.

Norrell, back at home, is rather passive, but malevolently so. He intercepts the letters between Mr and Mrs Strange lest he lose control of information, and he callously informs Mrs Pole of her awful fate, and the fact that he will not help her, and sends Childermass to destroy her rather nice tapestry. She is collateral damage in the cause of "respectability". Yet Norrell does not come across as evil, merely obsessive and addicted to missing the point, a bit like a bad boss.

Strange, meanwhile, is slowly learning, in Portugal, to rely less on books and structure and more on gut instinct, as far from Norrell as a magician can get; order versus chaos. (And it's interesting to think of the Gentleman in those terms, is it not? Chaos seems to often equal faerie, hence Norrell's dislike). One knows instinctively that Norrell would not approve of his raising the dead. Wellington (a superb character) cares not; to him, "Merlin" may as well just be a military engineer, a problem solver at his disposal.

But the episode's most powerful scene belongs to Stephen Black, a character thus far as marginalised on the narrative as he is I the narrative, as the Gentleman shows his horrific birth among the chains and disease and death of a slave ship, reinforced by the simple question "What was the name your mother gave you?" Much as the Gentleman may dangle the prospect of kingship at Stephen, we know (as the Gentleman seemingly does not) that this could surely never happen.

The end of the episode- Childermass takes the bullet as Lady Pole attempts to assassinate Norrell- is shocking. But not as shocking as the scenes in the slave ship. It is clear that the novel, like the series, is not just a superlative Gaimanesque fantasy, but has things to say about the world. And it's bloody brilliantly, too.

Humans: Episode 2

"The synths steal their job; they steal the synth."

Well, it seems as though the second episode is no less superlative than the first. This is intelligent, literate, hard sci-fi which is so damn good that it's Scandinavian roots are showing. We have a solid plot, strong characters, a well-developed theme and visual flair. This reminds me, more than anything, of Borgen.

Gemma Chan continues to astonish with a performance of outstanding subtlety. The part of Anita- an apparent automaton with slight hints of humanity and a distinctly maternal instincts- is particular challenging as the viewer is carefully studying each individual mannerism and modulation of voice. It's a stern test, but one that is passed admirably by her, and to s lesser extent by those laying other synths. But a special mention has to go to Rebecca Front, cast against type as a tyrannical nurse synth, dispassionately bullying William Hurt's sympathetic George. 

Laura is increasingly and incrementally creeped out by Anita, hence the seemingly decisive ending. Laura may not be the most sympathetic character, being a workaholic who struggles to connect with her husband and children and sees Anita as a threat to her role, but she continues to be our identification character. Matilda, meanwhile, is our rebel. How and the younger two children are, thus far, passive characters who exist in terms of Laura's character developments; Joe is there, in contrast to Laura, as a character seeing synths as no more than household appliances.

The most disturbing scenes involve Niska, and a paedophile client; disgusted, she kills him and flees, in grave danger but, at least, true to herself. Of her fellow fugitives we seem to learn that Leo is some kind of cyborgs but the others- Fred, Max and Mia ("Anita")- are presumably synths? I'm sure we'll get the backstory in due course.

As yet it's far from clear where this is going, but I'm hooked. This is an extraordinary piece of drama.

Grimm: Headache

"Well, this should be a jolly good romp!"

Eh? Jelly Burkhart dies this episode. The cliffhanger is even Nick receiving her head in a box. And yet, due to obvious behind the scenes issues, Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio doesn't even appear in the episode in which her character dies. That's weird and awkward.

In less surprising news... yes, Sean is indeed Jack the Ripoer as we all thought. It seems that his blackouts are dues to obsession by said fiend, who came back to life when he was resurrected at the start of the season, which is suspiciously similar to a certain episode of Buffy. Still, at least our heroes have a plan to scare the cheeky Cockney geezer away.

But the real villain here is Juliette. It is she who helps Kenneth in setting up the trap for Kelly. And not even the "surprise" return of Trubel can save her. Still, there's no getting round the convoluted awkwardness of Kelly only ever appearing off-screen. At least we meet the baby, though, and my- hasn't she grown?

This is, of course, an excellent and bloody exciting episode, revving up the excitement for next week's finale. Still, the absence of Kelly is a big problem.

Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell: How Is Lady Pole?

Something different today: a guest post from MrVortexOfDoom, whose YouTube channel you would be wise to have a look at, particularly if you happen to be partial to a bit of Doctor Who.

He and I will be alternating episodes of this splendid serial, and then going head to head for the finale.

That's the compere bit over with; let me hand you over to MrVortexOfDoom...

“I see no one. Or rather, I see roomfuls of people – and not a Christian amongst them”

What really annoys me about peoples’ appreciation of British telly is the fact that we in Britain can't recognise the fantastic and clever product being made in our backyard – while Americans lap quality like this up. Of course, our friends in the US regularly have at least a dozen hours of superb product to digest per week – while all we seem to want is more reality nonsense and documentaries about cats. 

Episode two of “The TV fantasy of 2015” (according to Rolling Stone .com , don’t’cha know) deals this out in spades. Having just finished rereading the fantastic novel by Susanna Clarke, you realise several things. 

1. Somehow, the BBC has managed to get the film rights back from New Line Cinema after the film giant collapsed – that’s why the adaption has taken 10 years to get to us. 

2. How much of an epic struggle it has been to get the monster 782 pages down to a workable mini-series.

And:  3. How much of a challenge it is to pack the iconic scenes into each episode. You read the chapter on the French discovering the rainships & the epic Sandhorses sequence and you think “well, I’m never going to see THAT on screen”. And then, they only go and show it. A brilliant &  breath-taking achievement.

However, what really is striking me about this is the attention to detail, taken faithfully from the novel. Writer Peter Harness could easily have chosen to cut the references to antiquarian times and antiquarian books of magic in favour of seven episodes of CGI and effects. But instead, in a bold move that’s not pleasing everyone, you really feel that the past history of magic is oozing through every minute. I cheered at every namecheck of days long gone – Sutton-Grove, Ormskirk, Mary Absalom, Ralph Stokesey, Lanchesters’ History Of Birds (and a wonderful set-up with Revelations Of Thirty-Six Worlds – which has a great pay-off later (I hope)).

And as well as all that, the episode continues to lay further intriguing questions at your feet. The constant cawing of ravens through the soundtrack. The influence of Fairie and the real world gradually being intertwined (Segundus & Stranges’ shared dream and Stephen's mysterious extra servants bell). The very fact that Segundus can sense magic being performed (store that in your mind palace for later). And a second lovely little set-up with the St Marks Square, Venice paintings. 

Of course, you could just discount all that and go goggle-eyed about how FANTASTIC Lost-Hope looks. But that would be a disservice to the source material and the sheer effort put in to what was considered in many areas an unfilmable novel. 

Enzo Cilenti as Childermass continues to rule every scene he’s in, looking moody in the background (it’s a fun game to spot just how much he’s taking in and observing). However, top billing for episode 2 in my eyes must go to Alice Englert and Bertie Carvel. Englert's Lady Pole starts to unravel badly with all the “fairy stories” taken directly from the text. And Strange himself is starting to believe just how far he can go in the magical world – with just one person standing in his way. 

And here’s a top piece of trivia for regular llama stranglers. Alice Englert's mother? Of all people, Jane Campion !! (Oscar-winning director of The Piano, In the Cut and the Top Of The Lake miniseries). If that juicy morsel doesn’t get you looking forward to episode 3, I don’t know what will.

VoD 2015  

Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell: The Friends of English Magic

"All magicians lie, that one more than most..."

I've been looking forward to this dries for ages; I loved the novel. Susanna Clark really has written a wonderful work of fiction, a Regency magical fantasy that wonderfully fuses the world of Jane Austen and Patrick O'Brian with that of Neil Gaiman, building a wonderfully compelling world and peopling it with fascinating individuals. Go and read it now.

I had high hopes, therefore, of this series, and so far (I'm actually three episodes in) my hopes have been entirely full. It's a largely faithful adaptation by Peter Harmess, with a little necessary structural jiggery pokers so that Jonathan Strange can be involved early on, made visually sumptuous by the ever-creative Toby Haynes, one of the best directors currently working in British telly. But s large part of its triumph lies in the wise decision to leave so much of the novel unchanged to the point that I frequently findyself recognising pieces of dialogue.

Bertie Carvel, fresh from playing Nick Clegg in Coalition, is a triumph as the charismatic and chaotic Strange, while Eddie Marsan slightly underwhelms as the sour and miserly Norrell, although I'm aware that others have praised his performance. Still, I must also praise Paul Kaye for a splendidly mad Vinculus (but is he an uncomfortable Jewish Fagin stereotype or am I overthinking things?)and Marc Warren, whose performance as the sinister Gentleman with the Thistledown Hair is magnificent. Also impressive, albeit in the smallish part of Drawlight,is Vincent Franklin, whose performance in Cucumber should rightfully elevate him to leading man status.

It's early days yet, and this episode is, as always for first episodes, set-up. But it does a good job of achieving said set-up, nicely establishing Jonathan Strange as someone expected (not least by his own father) to end up as a rich, useless dilettante but who ends up pursuing magic to impress his belle, Arabella. Norrell's miserable and awkward nature is established, as well as his Faustian pact with the Gentleman. It's clear that we have a Roundhead magician and a budding Cavalier one. I'm also impressed with Childermass, at this stage far more interesting than his employer.

So far so excellent, but let's see how it goes...

Humans: Episode 1

"Those robots are the Singularity!"

It's prime time hard sci-if on Channel 4 courtesy of this remake of the Swedish original, with inevitable name checks for Asimov and Capek. Wisely, there's nothing other than the synths themselves (creepily lifelike robots) to indicate that this isn't the present day; excessive futurism would alienate us from a parable which has a lot to say about our lives; yes, we have robots (sort of) and the Singularity looms, but Capek's "robots", in the original Czech, meant "serfs". There are issues of class here, not only in the "human" rights of any sentient robot slaves, but in the lazy decadence that looms for their owners.

Narratively speaking, all this requires an Everyman (Tom Goodman-Hill's easygoing Joe), an everywoman (Karherine Parkinson's Laura, thus far the main character, with more time for work than family. She is, in effect, the primary audience POV character and, interestingly, is troubled by synths. There are also three, er, every children: Vanessa is the rebellious genius, Sophie is there to be young, cute and to illustrate certain parenting duties, and Toby thus far seems to be the token boy and little else. They're all well-rounded and likeable enough to get away with the fact that they are, essentially, archetypes. They are also our way in to the drama, with Joe purchasing a synth, Anita, to do the housework so that he and Laura can spend time together.

Anita- a standout superb performance from Gemma Chan, is at once creepy and captivating, and the family's getting used to her neatly gets the exposition out of the way. The language of IT is used to discuss then, with "primary users" and "secondary users". They are treated and thought of like household appliances, but wasn't the same true of Roman slaves?

There's no suggestion, at this point, that she might be sentient, but there are already uncomfortable issues about having a robot "slave"; as Matilda puts it, why should she spend years training to be a brain surgeon when a synth can do it so much better? The human race is being threatened with uselessness.

But that's not all: an early flashback sequence with the mysterious Leo (Colin "Merlin" Morgan) establishes that a select few synths, all mates of his, have achieved sentience, complete with feelings. We observe one of them ("Fred")being caught, in rather upsetting scenes, all the more redolent for the fact that Fred, a recaptured escaped slave, is portrayed by a black actor. Then there is Niska, a synth who works on a brothel and insists on feeling every degrading moment. Towards the end the camera lingers uncomfortably as she is taken from behind, silent.

Oh, and the flashback establishes that Anita was one of these sentiments, until she was kidnapped five weeks ago. We know, unlike the Hawkinses(?), that she is sentient, although this does not rob her closing comment about the moon of its impact; not only does she have a soul, but there is poetry in it.

We meet an old man, the irascible and American inventor Dr George Millican (William Hurt), who has become attached to his rather endearing synth, Obi, which helps him with his failing memory. It seems this synth is past its sell-by date, though, and must be consigned to the scrap heap like an old, broken fridge.

There are a lot of promising strands here in what already looks like one of the dramatic highlights of the year. Humans is already outstanding telly.

Daredevil: In the Blood

"If he had an iron suit, or a magic hammer, maybe that would explain how you get your asses handed to you."

It's early days, I know. Even Buffy seemed distinctly unpromising at this stage. There's nothing wrong with Daredevil per se, it's just that it isn't catching fire yet. The characters seem well-rounded, well-written and performed, but I don't know them yet. 

Perhaps I should bear in mind that this is all set-up at this point; Matt is still floundering a bit and yet to put on the red spandex, and even Wilson Fisk, the focus of this episode, is yet to become a true Kingpin. He's an intriguing character- ruthless, yet also nervous and chivalrous around Vanessa, the lady he likes, and there are intriguing hints of a hard early life in Hell's Kitchen.

The ostensible focus of the episode is on Anatoly and Vladimir, our two Russian brothers, wannabe crimelords, and their ambitions, only to be cruelly snuffed out by Fisk, who ends the episode by personally killing Anatoly with his bare hands after his date is ruined. It's a nice way of establishing how Fisk, nervous around girls and only occasionally getting his hands dirty, invisible to the Internet and ostensibly law abiding, is the true threat, not whatever thugs may currently be top of the pile. As Matt muses to Claire, if one crimelord inevitably replaces another, what's the point of him? I suppose he will come to find an answer.

We also see a tightened by of a wary anti-corruption partnership between Karen Oage and Ben Zurich but, as Zurich makes clear, they're playing for high stakes. This is more immediately so for Claire, captured and roughly treated. Daredevil may have dramatically rescued her, but it's his fault she was put in harm's way at all. Still, the experience seems to have deepened their bond.

It's a good episode, yes. But I'm still waiting for the engines to fire up. 

Marvel's Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D: S.O.S, Part 2

"Yeah, and I thought my mom was bad when she started watching Fox News."

This is it, then. No more Agents of SHIELD for an awfully long time. This isn't the most dramatic of finales, but it wraps things up nicely and points towards a new status quo, although those never last long. And we end with quite a cliffhanger.

It starts positively, with Coulson managing to persuade Cal to go all Dr Jekyll again and help SHIELD against his wife; at last he picks a side. Cal also tells Coulson about Jiaying eating people, that elders used to sacrifice themselves for her, and that village in China was essentially a farm for her eternal life. 

In other news, Mack manages to free Skye, but Inhumans still control the carrier. Meanwhile, Ward and Kara have set up a trap for Huntet, trying to free the tortured Bobbi. Instead it is she who selflessly takes the bullet, and it's only at the very end that we discover that she will love. Kara is not so lucky, dying suddenly and randomly, realistic for a combat situation. There are parallels here between Hunter and Ward, both losing their woman. Ward is naturally devastated in an obviously character-shaping way; it's not surprising to see him take over HYDRA at the end, twirling his metaphorical moustache like a pro. His entire arc thus far has just been one big supervillain origin story. I hear he's to be next season's big bad.

Things are looking up, though. Both Skye and Lincoln are on board, and Fitz has a doohickey to deal with Gordon. May thinks things are bleak, though; she actually calls Andrew from a mission, for the first time since Bahrain.

We end with a big, exciting fight during which Cal finally kills Jiaying, Fitz kills Gordon and Coulson dramatically catches the Terrigen crystals before they hit the floor and kill everyone. He begins to die, from his hand outwards... until Mack saves him by, er, chopping his hand off.

The epilogue is long and dramatic. Coulson, arm in sling, briefs Skye on his plan for her to lead a team of "gifted a". Cal, in the episode's most featherlight scene, is found to have had his memory wiped. He will never again remember his daughter, or the best day of his life: the 2nd of July, 1988.

May is back with Andrew in what seem to be the stirrings of an actual personal life. Who'd have thunk it? Mack is staying, after persuasion by Coulson and his being put in charge of all alien artefacts.

Most dramatically, and heartbreakingly, though... earlier, Jemma Simmons tried to talk to Leo Fitz about what he said to her, a season ago, at the bottom. Of the ocean, and his irritated reply was "Why now?". The answer, of course, is that every day may be our last: carpe diem. We end with Fitz asking Simmons out on a date, walking out of the room... and said artefact swallowing Jemna whole.

That moment made my jaw hit the floor. This may not have overwhelmed, as season finished often do, but I was certainly sufficiently whelmed. It's going to be a long wait until Season Three...

Grimm: You Don't Know Jack

"It's not that easy being pregnant, cutting up your mom, and waiting for someone to kill you!"

Looks as though the season is going to conclude with a loose three parter, as an intriguing story about Jack the Ripper still being alive and his victims being Wesen (Is he a Grimm? Or is that misdirection?) is mixed up with loads of juicy arc stuff and heavy hints that both Kelly Burkhart and Trubel are going to be turning up soon. It's also an episode in which Jiloette and Adalind seem to complete an almost total switching of their respective roles, with Juliette hobnobbing with Ken while Adalind appears more and more like one of the gang, carefully protected by Nick. He is the father of her child, not Juliette's.

But we begin with the charred remains of Nick's trailer, and an attempt to salvage as much as possible of the books and heirlooms amassed by his family over generations. It's a downbeat beginning to an episode in which so many things seem to be going wrong. Juliette lures Kelly into an obvious trap set by Kenneth. The potion so carefully prepared by Rosalie, and for which Adalind has sacrificed so much- desecrating her mother' corpse and giving up her Hexenbeist abilities in an Exorcist-type spectacle- is contemptuously smashed into pieces by Juliette. Oh, and Henrietta is shockingly murderec by our mysterious Jack the Ripper figure.

Who is Jack? Research establishes that he is old, some ninety years older even than 1888, and that his removal of his Wesen victims' organs is for some mysterious purpose. We finish the episode not knowing, but... Sean's bleeding episodes are accompanied by memory loss, and his waking from his slumbers from some kind of body of water. Could it be...?

Oh, and we leave with Juliette seemingly about to make Nick shoot one of his mates. 

I'm calling it: with this season Grimm has ascended from a quite good but ordinary show into something great. What now?

Marvel's Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D: S.O.S, Part 1

"I am capable of finishing my own..."

"Sentences."

Here we go, then. War. It's all very confused at the start, not least because Jiaying compounds her "provoked" killing of Gonzalez by instigating what looks like a SHIELD attack against her own people.  Oh, and you know that eternal youth thing? That's from killing and absorbing people. Just so we know.

Jiaying is thus, after weeks of ambiguity, firmly defined here as a baddie. That's good plot structure, but it's also, perhaps, a little troubling that the only character to advance the pro-civil liberties point of view about the compulsory cataloging of those who are different is now firmly defined as a villain. Could the programme be defining itself as in favour of authoritarian policies? Hmm. We'll see. And either way it doesn't detract from the quality.

Skye is the piggy in the middle here, but it is she who discovers what is going on and she, with naturally conflicting motives and, indeed, definitions of family, is both the hero and the emotional heart of the episode. 

Bobbi, it turns out, is alive, but she's in the nasty, torturing clutches of Ward and Kara and, noble though her defiance may be, there's little apparent hope for her, much as May and (of course) Hunter set off to save her. Her fellow one time turncoat Mack, it seems, is sticking around for a bit, but only for the duration of the current crisis. 

With SHIELD's various agents' positioning on the chessboard established, Jiaying further cements her villainous credentials by killing Raina; the precognitive, as the cliche goes, simply knows too much. The Inhumans are on the warpath, aided by a rather cool Inhuman lady who can make loads of copies of herself. Jiaying's lot clearly have the upper hand.

This doesn't mean that Jiaying is winning in the fight for Skye's allegiance, though; her daughter realises that Raina was murdered, and works out pretty much everything that her mother has done.  But things look bleak at the end; Bobbi is used as a fatal trap for Hunter, and Inhumans overrun the helicarrier as Mr Hyde takes a load of those serums and suddenly starts looking exactly as he did in the comics. 

Looks like a splendid season finale, then. Much of this episode, as ever for a part one, is set-up, but it had me riveted. What next,

Grimm: Iron Hans

"So will you be a pawn, or will you be a queen?"

This time the story of the week isn't quite as high quality as we've recently come to expect, but it is solid nonetheless; a camping night for teenagers coming to terms with their inner hunter is singularly appropriate for Wesen who are integrated into civilised society, resonant with themes, and well-suited for some character development for Monroe, hinting at possible past killings. We will probably hear more about this.

The killer is a nice twist, though, and Jeff Fahey is a rather huge guest star. But, again, this all essentially plays second fiddle to the arc stuff, where Prince Kenneth (again, an oddly Scottish Christian name for Central European royalty) informs Adalind that not only does he know of Juliette's situation, but smells an opportunity. Where an extraordinary well-directed sequence sees Juliette's "remember" clips of herself and Adalind. Where Adalind informs Sean that the child she is carrying is Nick's.

Of clear plot significance is Rosalie agreeing to help find a cure for Juliette and protect Adalind. But the real biggie is Adalind asking Nock, father of the child in her belly, to be her "hero" and protect her. From Juliette. Oh, how the roles are reversed.

We end with Kenneth outing to get Kelly and, shockingly, Juliette setting Nick's motorhome cum library on fire. Things are heating up. Oh yes. This promises to be a dramatic last few episodes.