Batman: The Foggiest Notion

"You ogress! You vixen!"

We get more of the same this week, with everything now established. Again, the plot progresses nary an inch, but we get loads of fun set pieces and fun with stereotypes. Lord Ffog is under suspicion throughout, and Lady Peasoup known to be running a school for lady pilferers, but no one seems to be in much of a hurry to deal with them directly, instead heading of to the pub (I like how young Robin isn't allowed in) to prevent a robbery of miniskirts aimed at "the dominions". Britain here- sorry, Londinium- is a hilarious cross of Olde Worlde stereotypes and the Swinging Sixties.
Groovy, m'lord.

We get a pub brawl. We get Tower Bridge used as a deathrap although, sadly, this season doesn't end episodes with cliffhangers. We get a brief contractual appearance from Chief O'Hara. Rather more interestingly, Batman begins to suspect that Alfred knows things about Batgirl in this episode. Most hilariously of all, Lord Ffog has a device to wipe Batman's memory- but the Londinium Batcave naturally has a "Recollection Cycle Bat Restorer".

The next episode promises to be fun, too. I suspect, being the final episode of the story, it may also actually contain some plot. But frankly, who cares. This may not be clever, it may not be the best story ever, but it's fresh and fun.

Batman: The Londinium Larcenies

“Is Batman up against a sticky wicket?”

Well, this is completely unlike any previous episode. It's utterly, utterly mad, and very silly> No, it's not going to be competing for the title of best ever, but it's a charming bit of fun.

This is, of course, both Batman coming to England and also nothing of the sort. Batman is best when having fun with the fourth wall, and so naturally he visits not London, a real city of mortgages, car insurance and other such mundanities, but Londinium, a city of fog, bobbies and aristocratic baddies in deerstalkers. This is not a representation of England, but of its tropes and stereotypes, and setting the episode in "Londinium" allows that remove from dull reality.

Hence we have "Chuckingham Palace" and "Ireland Yard". We have Superintendent Watson, named afer you-know-who, with the script delightfully nodding to the fact that his office is the same set as Commissioner Gordon's with a couple of stereotypical additions. We have larger than life baddies in the dodgily accented Lord Marmaduke Ffog and the wonderful Lady Penelope Peasoup, who run a finishing school for lady thieves and plot to steal the Crown Jewels. We have a dodgy Cockney butler, and an ersatz ex-dungeon Batcave.

It's all delightful, and I don't care if the plot advances not a jot or, this being Season Three, there's no real cliffhanger: this is fun. I love ho Batman's deductions in the Superintendent's office makes no sense, how one of the three thugs who attack the Dynamic Duo has an accent echoing Dick Van Dyke, and Lord Ffog's monocle. More please.

Deadwood: Season 1, Episode 6- Plague

"Swearingen's a cue and Farnum merely is a billiard ball."

There's a lot happening in this episode besides the title. Alma continues to pretend to be a junkie still while undergoing cold turkey, fooling E.B., playing for time until seth returns. Seth, meanwhile, is attacked by an opportunistic Sioux, succeeds in killing him with a rock, and is ultimately rescued by Charlie Utter, who now learns of Bill's death. It now seems they are after Bill's killer, but it looks as though this plot thread is to simmer for a bit. Good strategic writing.

Jane is a fascinating character- very much not conforming to the archetype of a lady, acting in many ways like a man, portrayed here (and potentially in reality) as of possible LGBT nature, to use an anachronism; her sexuality and, indeed gender identity, is as ambiguous as one might expect in 1876.
 But she is a fully rounded person- drunk to blot out the memory of her best friend's death, but having cared for what she knows full well was a amallpox sufferer at the end of last episode. She's uneducated, uncouth, unladylike, deeply racist as per her upbringing, but not unkind beneath it all.

Then there's Joanie, who seems a bit down- but could the harsh, cynical Cy Tolliver have a thing for her? This promises to be a subtle little character thread that could run and run. Again, good writing. And the Doc, a decent man, taking centre stage while Merrick, a stereotypical newspaperman, is upstaged by Al in reporting the arrival of smallpox.

The arrival of this pestilence in the settlement dominates the episode, which makes it resonate somewhat now in June of 2020. It leads to stage managed fear and, fascinatingly, a meeting of the great and the good in which both Al and Cy relish the role of community leader and both reconcile somewhat. And we see the Reverend Smith collapse- very publicly- with his second fit. This is superbly written drama. I'm loving Deadwood, and we are nearly halfway through this first season.

Batman: Surfs up! Joker's Under!

"Cowabunga!"

This extraordinarily inconsistent season has shown us the full range of high to low and, indeed, high camp to low camp. This episode is strangely in the midde- a ridiculous tale of the Joker plotting to win a surfing championship by using a skill-draining machine which will, er, apparently somehow lead to him having power over Gotham and then the world. The script, perhaps wisely, does not elaborate on how.

There's certainly a lot of fun to be had- I love how the Commissioner and O'Hara parade around the beach in "disguise" as surfers, deriving comedy from being fish out of water ("Most true surfers are known as Duke, Skip, Rabbit or Buzzy", apparently), but the episode seems to exactly skirt the line between playful mocking of its own tropes and just plain Saturday morning cartoon logic. We end with a surfing contest between Batman and the Joker, both of them wearing their "baggies" over their costumes.And Barbara Gordon doesn't even become Batgirl until there are literally two minutes left.

I have gunuinely no idea whether this episode is being clever and ironic or not. Given the writer, I suspect the latter. But I can't say it wasn't fun.

Brexit: The Uncivil War

“Referendums are quite simply the worst way to decide anything. They’re divisive. They pretend complex choices are simple binaries- red or blue, black or white.”

It’s interesting watching this so soon after the National Theatre production of another James Graham play, This House; the parallels are striking, from the focus on back room operators rather than big political names to the introduction of each character as either "Remain" or "Leave", paralleling the uses of constituencies in This House. And, of course, the script is superb- human, philosophical, witty and awfully clever in how it presents the Brexit referendum as a coherent narrative.

Benedict Cumberbatch is superb as Dominic Cummings, unconvincing Mackem accent notwithstanding; this Leicestershire lad is married to a Geordie and knows these things. Cummings is, of course, much more well known today as Boris' puppet master and devotee of the driving-based eye test. This is a fascinating character study of a highly intelligent and capable man and a campaigning genius- I like how his clear campaigning methods are juxtaposed with those of the useless Remain campaign- whose sheer talent in this area should not be mistaken for a coherent or clever political philosophy. We are already seeing how his campaigning talents do not transfer to governing. Yet there's no denying his talents in the campaigning arena, especially against the uselessness of his opponents, unthinkingly rolling out the Clinton '92 "economy, stupid" campaign after a quarter of a century and not for once presenting Brexit as the massive surrender of sovereignty that it is, or speaking to those who have been forgotten by such campaigners.

We see both Cummings' arrogance and his unlikely charisma as well as, interestingly, as much of a clash between the two Leave campaigns as between the two opposing sides. And the script does not let Cummings off the hook for his "dead cat" methods of lying, nor for either the cynicism of letting Farage and his rabble of not-racist-buts talk about immigration, nor for his own mendacity about seventy million Turks. And yet the use of Bill Cash and Bernard Jenkin as foils allow even a Remainer like me to enjoy Cumming's effortless batting off of an attempted coup. One would think I would find this depressing, given the awfulness of its subject matter. It's a real credit to the script and to Cumberbatch that I don't.

Godzilla vs Gigan (1972)

“Only Godzilla has a chance..."

Time for another Godzilla film, and it's not as though this one isn't pretty much the greatest hits. Again, aliens that look like humans and act secretly (these ones are cockroaches from a world environmentally despoiled and, in a nice touch, we see their shadows). Again, we spend the first half of the film un layering a mystery while the second half is all monster set pieces.

But there's no getting away from how much fun this is, especially with the nicely metatextual theme of comic books (the hero is a comic book artist) and heroic Godzilla and Angilas talking via speech bubble(!) as they swim from Monster Island to save the world. Just let's not dwell on how they're suddenly able to escape its waters.

The baddies are a suspiciously depowered King Ghidorah and a new partly metal monster, who has a cool chainsaw but, surprisingly, isn't really all that prominent for much of the film. The set pieces are awesome, but go on a little too long, and I love the blatant use not only of models but of toy dolls.

Yes, it's derivative and no, it's not the best film in the franchise, but there's no denying how much fun it is. It's also nice to see an environmentalist message, although I suspect we shouldn't look too hard to find a subtext in the people behind a fashionable '70s kids' adventure playground being evil aliens. This is, well, another Godzilla film. But we know what we're getting, stock footage and all, and it doesn't disappoint.

Captain America: Civil War (2016)

“Congratulations, cap. You're a criminal."

I saw this film at the cinema in 2016, at the Silverlink up near Newcastle, with Mrs Llamastrangler. It was years ago, yes, but I hadn't blogged the prequels and wanted to do them all in order, so it hasn't been until this rewatching of the film that I've blogged it. Technicaliies and that.

Anyway, this is a film that is awesome in all the usual Marvel ways. We have top notch exciting action scenes. We somehow have a large cast where every character is well characterised and the dialogue is awesome. We have loads of nods to the fans, hence Crossbones and Zeno, even if the character is a little wasted here.

But at the heart of the film is a massive ideological fault line that divides all the heroes- and it’s easy for me, as a liberal and a Liberal, to emphasise with both sides. My civil libertarian instincts make me want to side with Cap, especially as the argument that heroes are to be castigated for those sad in innocent deaths that occur while they are saving many more lives, as in Sokovia. This is a silly argument. And yet... should not those with power be held to account, as we should do for those we allow to wield political power? Is it not important that potential tyrants not be allowed free rein? Even here, where the Sokovia Accords have the appearance of a bad compromise, I’d hesitate to disagree with Tony Stark here, even if many of his actual arguments are bad ones.

This film has depth. It has comedy- and not all of it with Ant-Man. It has drama. It has tragedy. It has the introduction of both a charismatic Black Panther and a new, young Spider-Man with a hot Aunt May. Marvel films are generally awesome, but this is one of the very finest.

The Madness of King George III (National Theatre, 2018)

"May I congratulate Your Majesty on another splendid stool?"

Circumstances, not necessarily good ones, make it possible for me to watch and blog this triumphant production from the National Theatre and the Nottingham Playhouse- both of which will need support in the coming months, as theatres traditionally do in times of plague.

Alan Bennett's wonderful 1991 play (look in the films index for my blog of the excellent 1994 film starring the late, lamented Nigel Hawthorne) is, perhaps, dated by the depiction of blue urine and the then-fashionable diagnosis of porphyria. But who cares. Literary art needs not a diagnosis. It deals in human nature. And Mark Gatiss- not, perhaps, a traditionally classical actor, gives us a performance which may well surpass that of the sainted Sir Humphrey.

The play is, of course, a masterpiece. We first see the king as he is- erudite, sexually repressed, an extrovert forced inwards by a role which forbids introspection. He is a force of personality when sane, as the early scenes effortlessly depict. The reason for his lapse of reason may not be porphyria- Gatiss has suggested a nervous breakdown- but it matters not. What matters is the star, and Gatiss more than delivers. The script sings of human nature, of the 1780s, of the British constitution, of the human psyche. Of all the kings of England, Charles II is the one you'd want a pint with, but you’d want George III on the psychiatrist’s chair. He may have weathered the crisis of 1788. but his end would not be a happy one. The gilded cage, inevitably, has its casualties.

It is, perhaps, questionable that the quacks should all be played by women, but one of them is the wonderful Louise Jameson. But the production gets no further criticism, from me. Again, we see an erudite and human script triumphant. And Gatiss is a revelation. Please... see this production before Thursday.

The Dead Zone (1983)

"The missiles are flying!"

Two David Cronenberg films in one year? This film is probably a little less well known than Videodrome, which I liked a lot. But it's probably the better film.

I suppose it must be admitted that the film relies heavily on Stephen King's original novel, of which it's an adaptation and which I haven't seen. But the film is superbly shot and paced, Christopher Walken is superb as a decidedly non-heroic lead, and the cruelty of the various tragedies are all the more effective for their unsentimental depiction. Spielberg this ain't.

This is an unnerving depiction of a normal, decent but fallible person who develops psychic powers after an accident, but at the huge cost of losing five years of his life and, worse, the love of his life. His bitterness is very human, and I like how it takes him time to reluctantly use his "powers" to help people- although his conscience tends to prevail.

This is not a film about a superhero, but a realistic depiction of how frightening it must be to have "powers" which one can neither control or understand, which are unnerving and uncomfortable, and which bring pain, possible eventual death, unwanted fame and, ultimately, impossible moral dilemmas.

This is at once a tragic love story, a story about ethics and one of the most intelligent and thought provoking examination of the implications of psychic powers. Not a great film, perhaps, but a highly impressive one.

Batman: How to Hatch a Dinosaur

"Think they can crack it, Commissioner?"

This second episode begins with a threat to undermine Egghead as much as the previous episode did, as we first see him riding that silly donkey all poised to play second fiddle to the increasingly annoying Olga.

Fortunately, this time those fears prove unfounded and Vincent Price gets the chance for a proper outing as the arch-criminal, with Egghead this time taking the lead. And his plan is gloriously bonkers: steal some radium, steal a dinosaur egg, and get the egg to hatch into a live dinosaur which will, for some reason not quite clear, fall under the control of Egghead and Olga and in no way turn agaist them. That it seems to do so is the most predictable and obvious trope ever. This is all very silly.

Except this is the right kind of silly. This is high camp, not low camp and, unlike the previous episode, this instalment has plenty of fun at the expense of its own tropes. So yes, the dinosaur is an unconvincing man in the suit- but this is completely diegetic, and the man in the suit is Batman.

We also have O'Hara noting that poisoning the water supply is a "favourite trick of Gotham City's arch criminals". Meanwhile we have Alfred. holding two phones, giving the same information to Batman and Batgirl in a splendidly silly bit of slapstick. And Robin even gives the fourth wall a knock ("Why didn't we think of this before, Batman?") when the Dynamic Duo find a way of using technobabble to track down the baddies at a moment convenient to the plot.

This is much, much better, and enormous fun- and Barbara is a surfer? I didn't expect that!

Plugging Mrs Llamastrangler's YouTube channel

Any coin collectors among you, or just curious to hear the oft-mentioned Mrs Llamastrangler's dulcet Northumbrian tones? Here's my beloved's latest YouTube video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GP0PTGJHaEM&t=98s

Batman: The Ogg and I

"Yes, the aroma is unmistakeable."

Oh dear. Another episode wth far too much going on to have enough fun, I'm afraid; it's all plot, plot, plot, and although said plot is at times promisingly silly (Egghead wants a "tax" on all eggs eaten in Gotham City, while it's not clear what Olga wants aside from marrying both Egghead and Batman), there's nowhere near enough fun with the fourth wall. And this time we can't, this being the start of a two parter, blame the new format.

No; the problem is that we have two villains struggling for air time. Anne Baxter is superb, having previously played Zelda the Great early in the first season, but the character of Olga is a bit ill-defined. So she's a Cossack queen from some fictional Slavic country, she has an outrageous and broadly Russian accent and... that's it, and while Baxter is superb with the accent and her charisma, the character is far too vague. Worse, the return of the splendid Vincent Price as Egghead is diluted.

There are some good moments- I smiled as Egghead implored Olga to forget any eleborate trap and just kill the Caped Crusaders- but not enough to prevent this overly packed episode feeling like a slowly deflating balloon. And, yet again, there isn't even a cliffhanger.

I hope there's more of Egghead next time.

Deadwood: Season 1, Episode 5- The Trial of Jack McCall

"Hickock breaks my balls from the afterlife..."

This is another multifaceted, complex gem of an episode as the people of the town walk past Wild Bill's body to pay their respects while a man stands around loudly trying to sell the severed head of a "heathen" Inevitably, this lawless community moves to try the killer, but the issues surrounding this are fascinating and fundamental. Meanwhile, so many characters get meaningful development.

Bullock is grumpy all episode, particularly with the ingratiating evangelism of the Reverend Smith- it seems that, like many quietly irreligious people in societes where outright atheism is frowned upon, this makes him very uncomfortable. Yet Smith himself is behaving strangely, and ends the episode with some kind of seizure. This is a man we know to have been traumatised by war- there are clearly depths to him.

E.B. shows signs of deep resentment towards Swearengen, and signs of an independent agenda. He's a man needing security for his declining years. Meanwhile Al is getting Trixie to manipulate the newly widowed Alma by replacing her addiction to laudanum with another substance as part of Al's getting her caim back. But she's leaving her agency in the literal hands of a man (not much feminism in 1876)- and, if the first meeting between her and Seth is anything to go by, a man she rather likes the look of. Future lovers, I wonder?

Meanwhile the relationship between Tolliver and mistress Joanie is shown to be complex- how loose is her leash? And she clearly has desires of a Sapphic nature. Tolliver, callously, has his sick old friend Andy dumped in the wilderness where he finds himself looked after by a drunk but nevertheless crudely kindly Calamity Jane, upset at the loss of her "best friend" who never judged her. This is all masterful character development.

But the trial is fascinating- and so is Al's word with the judge. Does this lawless community, wishing for eventual annexation by the United States, really want to look like a society with pretensions of its own legal system, a part of the infrastructure of a functioning state? Would this not be a provocation? And yet, what else can they do?

The killer is ultimately acquitted, and genly reminded to leave town pretty sharpish. But it seems, from coughng at Bill's funeral, that getting rid of Andy (not quite dead) may have brought a plague. How very topical.

This is superlative television.

Batman; Louie, the Lilac

"The flower children think we're cool, man. Like we turn them on, you know?"

Double oh. I criticise the new fomat of mostly single episodes as making each episode too short and rushed to be any fun, and I get a second superb standalone episode in a row. This episode is utterly wonderful. Oh, the perennially unfunny Milton Berle is rubbish as the utterly pedestrian Louie the Lilac, but who cares a script as delightful and fun as this- and, yet again, a cast full of splendid actors of deadpan comedy, with newcomer Yvonne Craig defnitely among them? I don't even care that the way the episode plays out makes a nonsense of last episode's teaser.

Even better, of course, is that 1967 gets its much-needed proper hippie episode of Batman, something which could never have been done properly in any other year. So perhaps Louie's plan to corner the flower market, control the flower children and therefore control the leaders of the future while dispatching his enemies with incredibly slow acting carnivorous lilacs(!) makes absolutely zero sense, but that's intentional: this is Batman. Anyway, the real point is to look at the hippies, the way they look and the way they talk. Interestingly, this is still the Summer (well, Autumn) of Love, and everyone sees the hippies as well-meaning and harmless- desexualised, depoliticised and certainly, well, de-potified.

We're well past the point of pointing out diversions from a set episode structure at this point- the welcome addition of Batgirl has put paid to that. And seven episodes in I'm loving the character, her theme tune (we get a good blast of it towards the end, which is wonderful) and Yvonne Craig's perfecly pitched performance.

Egghead next. Good. Is this season going to continue to make its underwhelming first few episodes look like an aberration?

Batman: The Unkindest Tut of All

"Luckily for us, she's an Egyptian bibliophile...

Oh. There I was, merrily criticising this season's poor start and diagnosing the single episodes as the cause, being far too rushed to demonstrate and of the high camp and winks at its own tropes that have always made Batman such a joy. So, naturally, the very next episode comes along and proves that it is indeed possible to squeeze lots and lots of high camp fun into twenty-four minutes.

It helps, of course, that Victor Buono is back as King Tut, this time posing as a soothsayer of crime as a successful plot to discover the location of the Batcave, and that Yvonne Craig, whether as Batgirl or Barbara Gordon, is showing herself to be every bit as good at deadpan, square humour as Adam West. But, essentially, the episode is a triumph because Stanley Ralph Ross' script simply sings.

Tut is back because he was "hit by a brick at a love in". There's a delightfully crowbarred-in reference to Alfie. Batman tries to ask Batgirl out on a date after she utters the sweet words "I was only doing my duty as a citizen". And many, many more, at last giving the whole regular cast some great material to work with so we can see yet again how well they deal with this kind of material.

So, yes- the new format can work. Let's have more episodes like this please.

Coriolanus (National Theatre Live, 2014)

“I am known to be a humorous patrician, and one that loves a cup of hot wine with not a drop of allaying water in it. One that converses more with the buttock of the night than with the forehead of the morning."

I'm a Shakespeare geek, I suppose, but of his thirty-nine plays I have certainly neither read nor seen them all. So, having neither seen nor read Coriolanus, I'm caught between a first experience of the play- one extraordinary both in itself and in what it has to say in our sadly populist times, where militaristic demagoguery continues to plague us.

I can see why the play is not so popular and well-known as the Warwickshire lad's other late tragedies. It is austere, has a proud and abrasive protagonist who is not inclined to self-aware soliloquys, and assumes a knowledge of semi-mythical early republican Rome, in the 490s BC, where the last king has barely been deposed and where, with the first secession of the plebs, issus of class and war intertwine as the young city state conquers its neighbours.

One must surely imagine this play, with its emphasis on the people, the tribunes, the conflict between arrogant privilege and the popular will, would be much less resonant in early Jacobean times than it is today, where Coriolanus as a proud warrior and would-be tyrant evokes not so much the sadly delusional Trump as the much younger, leaner and more sanely arrogant Cummings. Tom Hiddleston is superb, succeeding in seeming authoritative and believable as a proud and reactionary soldier undone by hubris, his performance full of nice little touches, at limes leavening the tragic gloom with bitter humour. Mark Gatis is similrly superb as Menenius, the humour of his performance concealing dark depths. The sparse production, too, is a triumph, allowing the play itself to succeed by its words and performances. It's just a shame Birgitte Hjort Sorensen of Borgen has such a relatively small part.

Magnificent, both as a play and a performance. Not all tragedies have to be Hamlet, and there's a real power in letting the interior thoughts of the protagonist remain opaque. From Hiddleston I've never seen a finer performance.

Godzilla vs Hedorah (1971)

"Come on, blow your mind!"

It's a new decade, a new creative team and, for the first time an entirely new cast- and it's a triumph, a film which has something to see and manages to be groovy while doing it.

The film doesn't so much have subtext as text, as Hedorah is the most blatant (and well-realised) metaphor for pollution imaginable. But that's no criticism; as the last half-century has shown, you can't be too blatant with the urgent message that we should please try and not bugger up our planet as a place to live on.

This film tells that story, based around the engaging supporting cast of a professor and his family with a groovy young couple whom we see at an awesome gig with visuals that remind me of early Hawkwind, never a bad thing. Not just that, but we get awesome animated segments, along with an opening sequence that comes across like a James Bond song. More of this please. It's about time these films acknowledged the counterculture.

There is, perhaps, a moment that's a little close to the bone in 2020, as Hedorah's air pollution forces the people of Tokyo and Osaka to wear masks in public. And perhaps the MacGuffin that helps Godzilla (unambiguously a goodie- and Monster Island seems forgotten) is a little obvious. But this is a promising new start and a fine film.

Batman: A Horse of Another Colour

"I did a little extra-curricular crime detecting while Dick Grayson was doing his homework."

Well, that, if you forgive the lamentable lack of a cliffhanger, was rather splendid. In fact, suspiciously so. I'm now convinced that the problems we've seen this season can be laid entirely at the door of the decision to move largely to standalone single episodes. Not only, at a time when the budget has been cut, does it needlessly increase costs by demanding new costumes and sets each episode, but it takes away the main attraction of the show. Batman is awesome because of its high camp silliness, its deadpan riffs on the absurdities of its own tropes. There's not much time for all than in twenty-four minutes, but in two episodes there's penty. Because this two parter, while perhaps not quite being the best ever, has brought all the fun back again, made possible by having time to breathe.

Hence we get to enjoy Barbara Gordon being the ridiculously sensible and goody-goody librarian, and Penguin looking for a buyer for his stolen folio of parasols in the "Saturday Review of Parasols"- and failing yet again to notice "A.L. Fredd".We get some more priceless dialogue between Penguin and Lola. And we get the silliest horse race imaginable.It's all enormous fun.

But we end with a massive hint that the next (single) episode will feature the splendid King Tut- but will we have enough time in one episode to enjoy this fun character...?

Deadwood: Season 1, Episode 4- Here Was a Man

“Can you let me go to Hell the way I want to?"

Wow. That was sudden, shocking and out of nowhere- but then so are most shots in the back. I know the real life Wild Bill Hickock was shot in this way soon after moving to Deadwood, but the season has consistently kept up the anticipation- wringing lots of pathos from Bill knowing this would happen but passively awiting his fate- while keeping us guessing as to when exactly the moment would arrive. Death, as ever, is unprdedictable. None of us know when our time will come, which are resonant words to be writing in the midst of a plague.

Obviously, Keith Carradine really shines here, but there's so much pathos in how sympathetic Bill is. He's kind to the (thankfully recovered) little girl, who clearly feels comfortable in his presence, always a sign of a nice character. He continues to develop a human connection with Seth, and behaves with integrity (I think) when Alma asks him to help, yet to almost everyone he's a gunslinging celebrity, not a human being- and his death has parallels to that of John Lennon. Most poignantly, as the whole town rounds on the killer, only Jane and Seth run to the body, genuinely sorrowful.

Other plot threads develop, too, as Al continues to show us what a superbly menacing yet nuanced character he is, a villain but a three dimensional one. There's a newcomer, an old friend of Cy Torrance, who is not at all well. Alma confesses to Jane that her marriage to Brom was an ordeal, with hints of aristocratic arranged marriages. Things continue to unfold. But the episode is about Wild Bill, and the fatalistic end to the melancholic life of a seemingly decent man. Superb telly.

Batman: The Sport of Penguins

"I pray for the day when Gotham City is safe from that mocking mountebank."

Phew. This episode is much better, and holds out some hope for this third season after its wobby start- and it manages to do this while being centred around the theme of horse racing, the most boring subject imaginable.

I still have doubts about the new format, but the fact that this is a two parter (although the fact the show is now weekly sadly seems to mean no cliffhanger, which is silly and disappointing as they still try to tease us without one) makes the whole thing less rushed and allows some of the high camp silliness which is the whole point of this series- hence we get the Caped Crusaders' surreal and ridiculously random reasoning ("holy non-sequitors!) which lead them to the glue factory, and Penguin gets lines like "If it's that priceless, I can get a good price for it on the black market", and his haggling at the glue factory is hilarious.

It's also nice that he remembers Barbara jilting him at the altar (actual continuity!), and leaves a ticking trap for her- and I love Barbara's po-faced outrage at his attempted theft in the library. We also get the amusing Ethel Merman as Lola Lasagne, a fairly small time villain with a small time scheme, but an amusing one.

On a personal note, I'm glad these two parters are more loosely connected than before; from this week onwards my weekdays are even more insanely busy than before and a short episode of Batman is something I can hopefully blog where time is absurdly short, so I'll stick to one episode at a time unless things change- on other days, I'll continue to blog Deadwood with films, as usual, at the weekend. I want to keep this blog up; it's strangely relaxing for me after these long days.

Deadwood: Season 1, Episode 3- Reconnoitering the Rims

"I don't think he took your point, quite."

"I think he quite missed it."

Only the third episode, and it's already very clear indeed that a single viewing is hardly adequate to do justice the density of the script, visuals and performances. I shall plead that there's some value in a first impression, and do my best.

On the surface this episode is about a few prominent plotlines- the opening of the rival saloon over the road and Al's preparation for war; the sort-of agreement between Swearengen and the Seth and Sol duo; and of course the tragic end of swanky New York dude Brom.who seeks "satisfaction" for being swindled by Al and ends up lured to his death in spite of many, many warnings, not only from Charlie but his junkie wife Alma. This is nicely paralleled with Al's decision to spare the slightly treasonous E.B.- after all, he has the poor hotel owner by the balls.

Elsewhere there's casual racism directed towards the "heathens", and equally casual bile (sexism and possible homophobia?) directed at Jane, whose disinclination to perform the rituals of femininity do not go unnoticed. But the most tragic character is the tactiurn Bill, whose reputation precedes him so that he's constantly being abused and challenged by wankers. No one ever treats him as a person, just as the legendary gunslinger he has become, and his life is shorn of any human interaction- no wonder he's drawn to the decent Seth, and that he spends his days drinking and gambling until the day he is inevitably shot by some twat. And yet beneath the gunslinger is a gentleman who will sleep in a corridor so a traumatised little girl can remain undisturbed.

At the core of this is a superb cast of actors- Ian McShane is a revelation; Lovejoy this ain't- but also, again, a peerless script. I'm loving this.

A History of Violence (2005)

“In this family we do not solve our problems by hitting people.

David Cronenberg is known for a certain type of film. This is very different from that type. Yet it's a very different type of film- an action film that's based around nuanced character and acting, and rather intelligent and thoughtful among all the violence, anyone?

It's hard, indeed impossible to discuss this film without spoilers. But it's about more than the twist; it's about how we can all construct our identities, about interiority, about the hope of redemption, about the violence that lurks within us, about what may lie beneath respectable and upstanding lives, about the alien nature of other people and the impossibility of truly knowing them, even if you're married to them, in love and still have good (and fetishistic) sex. But then, of course, in a very deep sense Edie does know who Tom is now. The past is a foreign country.

There's enough graphic violence here to qualify this as an action film, yet it's clever enough to simultaneously appeal to the arty film crowd. Viggo Mortensen gives a towering and dualistic performance that is truly extraordinary, although credit is also very much due to Maria Bello and to William Hurt, who shows his extraordinary versatility in a part very different from usual.

This is an extraordinary film, and one of the finest I've seen for a good many months.

This House (National Theatre Live, 2013)

"A Conservative Government eventually falls because they believe themselves entitled to power. And Labour Governments always fall because they don't."

The National Theatre are streaming one free recording of a play on YouTube, and for one week only, until Thursday I believe, the chosen play is James Graham's funny, tragic, human and wonderful tale of politics and desperation charting the Parliamentary struggles of the Labour Government between 1974 and 1979 and that fatal confidence vote.

It's an interesting experience to watch a stage play via a recording, and a reminder of the way the medium uses clever staging instead of boring realism- hence the dances as Commons votes and, most wonderfully, the use of a big blue cloth and David Bowie's "Rock and Roll Suicide" to evoke the moment where John Stonehouse (look him up) does his Reggie Perrin thing. In fact there's a superb use of contemporary rock throughout, much of it Bowie- particularly clever is the use of "Five Years" to evoke the various MPs who die during the 1974-79 Parliament.

We see few Government or Opposition ministes, at least no more than cameo's; this is the story of the two teams of whips, all of whom we come to know. It's a splendid ensemble performance, although I fear the two standout performances- Phil Daniels as Bob Mellish and Vincent Franklin as Michael Cocks- are on the Labour side. But there's plenty of politics- we have hints at the Tory shift to the right under Thatcher and the end of the Butskellite consensus; Labour's future in terms both of Militant sabotage and the slow replacement of all those working class men with young professionals, represented here by future Chief Whip Ann Taylor.

This is dramatic, funny, thoughtful; an examination of the game of politics, the stakes and the moral compromises involved, and of course the often enormous human cost. It's a wonderfu production of a wonderful play

Batman: The Wail of the Siren

 "Batgirl, Batgirl Batgirl, Batgirl 
Where do you come from? Where do you go? 
What is your scene, baby? Yeah, we just gotta know 
Batgirl, Batgirl Batgirl, Batgirl 
Are you a chick who fell in from outer space?  
Or are you real with a tender warm embrace? 
Yeah, whose baby are you? Batgirl, whose baby are you? Batgirl..."    

It's becoming increasingly clear that this season there's not so much money sloshing around   (Siren's hideout is so very cheap!) and that the need to accommodate an extra character in   Batgirl where there’s only a single episode lasting twenty-four minutes to play with has, we, not exactly improved the show. Nor is the show’s signature wit much in evidence: this could be a kids’ cartoon. It’s enjoyable enough but I’m hoping the third season has more in store than we’ve seen so far.  

That said, though, this episode is an improvement, cartoonish though it is. A shockingly young Joan Collins is sexy and charismatic as the Siren. Barbara Gordon is still talking to her parrot as a neat little exposition device. And... yeah, that Batgirl song- the lyrics absolutely had to be the quote. It’s mad, it fully embraces both its silliness and its sixtiesness, and I love it. How could I not? We also get a line where Batman refuses a soft drink on the grounds it could be “too relaxing”, and the hilarious concept at the end of Siren singing an “antidote note” on the mesmerised Bruce.  

Still, I'm a little alarmed at this point. This episode is fun, yes, but it’s a simple cartoon type show, and that's how the season seems to be going. Batman has seemingly moved from high camp to low camp. Surely this can’t continue?

Batman: Ring Around the Riddler

"Returned to tease, taunt and torment us again..."

This second episode, it has to be said, with its reentlessly studio-boubd scenes, is where the budget cuts really start to show. It's also becoming clear how difficult it is, especially with a third semi-lead, to tell a story in twenty-four minutes, much as I admire some of the economy of storytelling here- as we begin with Batgirl ringing the Commissioner (her father!), who rings Alfred, who in turn summons the Caped Crusaders, with the entire montage done in silence.

The story is a fairly low-stakes tale of the Riddler getting in on the act in the boxing tacket, getting prize-fighters to throw fights. That's it. Despite the sheer number of riddles, the character hardly gets seen at his most memorable- but all is forgiven, because the prodigal Frank Gorshin is back, after taking a whole season off for mysterious reasons. He is, of course, magnificent, and there will never be a better Riddler. But it's sad that Gorshin's (and the Riddler's) time on the show should end with such a whimper. This third season will contain a lot of sad "lasts".

The episode has some lovely touches- I love Barbara Gordon's relationship with her doting father, and how she has a parrot to talk to, cleverly allowing the character to talk to herself. It's also nice that we get such an extended preview of Joan Collins as the Siren. But ultimately, if it were not Frank Gorshin'slast appearance, this would be a forgotten episode.

The Fantastic Four (1994)

“Look at you- the Fantastic Four!”

I've always wanted to see this unreleased little film, and tonight I got my wish. And what we have here is unquestionably a B movie, with an older Roger Corman producing, with no stars (other than Alex Hyde-White the only member of the cast I've heard of is young Mercedes McNab, Harmony in Buffy and Angel, who plays the young Sue Storm), no budget and some questionable acting. But actualy, well, I rather like this.

Yes, it's incredibly cheap. Yes, the script lacks sparkle. But the film's heart is n the right place. Doctor Doom's costume looks cheap (and his castle very Count Duckula!), but they're really trying to be faithful to the comics. We get cheap looking but faithful John Byrne era costumes. We get Alicia.

Even better, though, these are the characters we know and love- with Sue's embarrassed and cute crush on Reed and proper time given to Ben's angst at his predicament- with Alicia a big part of his healing. A comparson to the awful Captain America film of four years earlier shows what this film gets right- we recognise and care about these characters, even if the acting is somewhat functional.

Best of all, cheap though the film is, it makes a surprisingly decent stab at showing all of the heroes' powers in action, even if we have to wait a long time to see Johnny get a proper- and pretty damn cool- "flame on" moment.

So yes, this is a cheap B movie. Yes, the acting is functional. Yet it gets most of the big scripting decsions right and is a surprisingly entertaining movie with real heart.

Godzilla: All Monsters Attack (1969)

"Everyone is so hard a work that they forget about the kids, huh?"

This is, appropriately enough, the 666th film I've blogged over the last nine years, and it's winderful. For completely unexpected reasons, it's the best Godzilla film I've seen so far.

Opinion, it seems, is divided between those who hate the film for its lack of focus on the monsters and extensive and for its obvious use of stock footage of the monsters on the one hand, and those who point out that this is quite clearly a sodding children's film, and a magical one at that, on the other.

This is a film about a litte boy, Ichiro, whose parents work long hours and leave him alone for hours after school (unthinkable in this day and age), and who is both obsessed by Kaiju and plagued by a bully whom he likens to Gabara. In his dreams, nicely shown as such by the type of effects that we Doctor Who fans call CSO, he flies to Monster Island and sees all the monsters, befriending little Minya. For those who comlain about Minya talking, these are dream sequences and this is a sodding kids' film, pretty much Mary Poppins with Kaiju.

I think it's a lovely, elegantly plotted and ingenious film, albeit cheap, about a little boy encouraged to fight bullies- and crooks- by a parable on Monster Island. Who'd be a kid in 60s Japan?

Deadwood: Season 1, Episode 2- Deep Water

“No loose ends now...”

I’m really getting into this already. I already feel I know these characters and am invested in the storylines.

Much of this episode revolves around the complex consequences of Seth and Wild Bill's shooting las episodes of the man who took part in the killing of the "squareheads"- Seth is now tied to Bill whether he likes it or not, and clashes very much with an untrusting Al. Already I'm seeing why Ian McShane is so praised for this performance.

The ripples widen and widen, as Calamity Jane (a facinating, eccentric and damaged character) ends up stealing the little "squarehead" girl (interesting to see that casual racism, the first thing we see in the episode directed towards a Chinaman, was once applied to the many German and Scandinavian settlers), and that there's a power struggle for her between the principlied Doc and wily Al.

We also find Brom beginning to realise he may have paid £20k for a pup, while his wife Ada turns out to be a junkie. Also interesting is Wild Bill himself, who perhaps gets on with Seth (the hero so far) because Seth just treats him as a normal man- Bill comes across as a man sick and tired of the falseness of fame.

It's only the second episode, and already I feel I know these characters and care about them. This is looking so far like another HBO triumph.

Batman: Enter Batgirl, Exit Penguin

"Just never been proposed to at umbrellapoint before..."

And so begins the short final season for the Autumn of 1967, where a few changes have had to take place . For a start, epsodes are now being broadcast weekly. We no longer necessarily have two-parters with cliffhangers, and twenty-five minutes is not a long time to tell a story- something very much demonstrated by this epidode. Madge Blake is sadly not well, and won't be appearing much. Finally, of course, we have innocent librarian Barbara Gordon, whose spacious apartment contains a secret room and a secret; she's Batgirl, copyright-disregarding crimefighter.

This episode, of course, exists to introduce her and has an awful lot to do in a short time, which it manages to do abour as well as it possibly could. So the plot about Penguin marrying Barbara to become the apparently untouchable son-in-law of the Commissioner may be silly, but it has to be, much like the way the Dynamic Duo, those great detectives, can't work out who Batgirl is. It's nice that Alfred gets to know and keep Barbara's secret, but I had to raise an eyebrow at Penguin failing to recognise him.

This is entertaining enough, but has far too much to do for it to stand out as particularly good. The new format seems promising, though. Especially as the cliffhanger seems to have been replaced by a sneak preview of the next episode's villain- and this time it's the Riddler- and Frank Gorshin, the Gods be praised, is back...

The Mandalorian: Chapter 8- Redemption

“He just killed an officer for interrupting him. So this may take a while.“

Wow. Now that’s what I call a bit good. This finale is a thing of beauty and, seeing now how it all fits together, it elevates the previous seven episodes into a cohesive whole. I can see why The Mandalorian has received such acclaim, and I concur wholeheartedly.

So yes, we begin with Mando, Cara and Greef completely surrounded by Imperial troops under new big bad Moff Gideon, and Imperial scout troops have Baby Yoda. It’s a bleak cliffhanger. But I love how things immediately turned into an unexpected direction. So it’s a comedy scene between two scout troopers that tells us what Gideon is like, and his habit of executing subordinates for petty reasons. But his speech to our protagonists is hugely revealing- our Mando has a name (Din Djarin) and is not a native of Mandalor but a foundling, and at last we see the full flashback of how he came to be adopted by his new culture. This adds an awful lot of depth and hints at the ending.

All this dialogue is fun (what is this “Mind Flayer”?), but even more fun is Taika Waititi who, when he’s not brilliantly directing this episode, is perfect as the reprogrammed IG-11, the most badass nanny in the world (eat that, Poppins), who rescues the kid and then the gang, all while being staggeringly cool. It’s neat that a droid that originally tried to kill the Child should be its saviour, and indeed die in a way justifying the episode title- but let’s not get too far ahead.

Mando appears to be the one facing a heroic death, but no- he's saved by IG-11. And, as said awesome droid is not technically alive, we get to see his face, in the same episode we learn his name. And we find the other Mandalorians to have been devastated, the only apparent survivor being the armourer. She shows hersef to be badass when the Imps arrive later, of course, but for now she makes clear what we've probably realised- Baby Yoda is a foundling and, unless Mando can return it to its home (and there was an ancient war with the Jedi?), it's his son, to be raised in the tradition. This is the Way. Cool.

That escape through a river of lava with a ferry droid has no business not being a reference to the River Styx and, sure enough, when they emerge IG-88 blows his way to Hades, along with a load of Imps, to save the others. He is, in spire of everything, a hero. And Mando, in spite of everything, truly mourns this droid. This is cleverly crafted drama.

We end with Greef hiring Cara but, for now, Mando has some Jedi family history to research. I bloody can't wait. I can't praise this series enough.

Deadwood: Season 1, Episode 1- Deadwood

"Goddammit, Swearengen. I don't trust you as far as I can throw you. But I enjoy the way you lie."

A very impressive start to Deadwood with this hour of telly, with the premise and the characters introduced with good storytelling beats and the "show, don't tell" type of exposition- no bad feat with this showing early signs of having the complexity of a fat novel.

It all fees very much like an HBO of the '00's both structurally and visually- It reminds me very much of True Blood in spite of the differences in genre.

Our first scene nicely establishes things as kindly sheriff Seth, somewhere in Montana Territory, mentions to a prisoner that he's off to Deadwood shortly. It's 1876 and, we learn, following Custer's recent last stand, the Black Hills in Dakota Territory are the focus of a gold rush.The only thing is that, legally, it's Sioux land, and the town has no legal basis and therefore is quite literally lawless. But this is nicely followed by an example of "law" in the "civilised" west- Seth is faced by a posse looking for blood, and is forced to hang the prisoner himself in a vague gesture towards "law".

No wonder he's planning to open a shop and give up the law business. But we're also introduced to the likes of a very menacing (and famous) Wild Bill Hickock, and the sweary gun girl with a heart, Calamity Jane- one of the few speaking women not pimped out and beaten up; no wonder the dresses and acts like a man. And we also meet the dangerous publican-cum-crimelord Al Swearengen, whose oddly mid-Atlantic accent is apparently deliberate. Intelligent and ruthless, he seems interesting.

Three characters are seen being shot dead in the course of the episode- it's a dangerous existence. And a family of Germans (?) trying to go home to Minnesota are massacred. It's a violent, harsh world but one redolent with what feels like realism. I much enjoyed this meaty and fascinating episode. Hopes are high for the next thirty-five.

The Mandalorian: Chapter 7- The Reckoning

"Tea?"

This penultimate episode does nothing to stop me seeing this excellent as pretty much a Western in terms of plot, themes, characters and archetype- you could pretty much take away all the robots and spaceships and tell this whole story, flabby middle episodes and all, in the American West. This is, of course, no bad thing, and is a big part of why this genre series doesn't come across as mere fan fiction- there's lots of fan service here and there, of course, and rightly so, but fan service doesn't drive the plot so much as the notion that a Mandalorian's gotta do what a Mandalorian's gotta do.

So when Mando gets that message from Greef that he can come back and have all forgiven by the Guild if he kills his former employer, an ex-Imperial type who has the place swarming with Stormtroopers. Only here is it made clear that we are not too many years after Return of the Jedi- is this Imperial remnant a harbinger of the First Order?

Our Ugnaught friend gets a name- Kuill- and a backstory- he's moral and dignified, earning his freedom from centuries of slavery by the skill of his hands, and gently repairing IG-11 as a harmless protective and domestic droid in an extended flashback evoking parenthood. This, of course, makes us like him. So they kill him, the bastards.

It's also nice to see Cara- a person Mando respects, and perhaps almost a friend. It's also nice that Greef admits and abandons his proposed double cross after Baby Yoda heals him- this sort of thing gives the characters depth and agency, and makes them feel like people rather than plot functions. Greef May have been an antagonist but he is, in his way, an honourable man. Although I love the fact that the whole load of them are ambushed right after the line “Nothing can go wrong”.

Then things get intense. There are hordes of Stormtroopers, some of them those cool scouts with their speeder bikes, and Werner Herzog is simply superb- I love how he’s a genuinely ideological Imperial, believing the Empire brings order and not chaos (like Rome) and genuinely puzzled as to why Mandalor had to resist.

And, if things weren’t intense enough, we end with our gang all captured as a big TIE fighter lands and out comes the Big Bad, one Moff Gideon. More please. This is awesome.

Edge of Darkness: Part 6- Fusion

"You can't die alone, Ronnie..."

"Why not? We all do, you know."

The final episode, at last. As with previous episodes, it very much feels as though a single viewing is not enough to glean what lurks within these fifty crafted minutes. Most interestingly, though, is that this final episode barely goes through the motions of being a thriller, again introducing a variation f James Lovelock's Gaia theory- will we, as Grogan (coded as a villain) transcend our Earth and move to colonise the Solar System (perhaps less likely now than it may have seemed in 1985), or will our continued pillaging of our planet see our Earth mother strangle us in our cradle with the black flowers we see in the final shot? The answer is as uncertain as Craven's fate, but he is ultimately doomed. Are we? Emma's ghost seems to imply that humanity had a sapient predecessor, swallowed by thsoe black flowers.

We get to explore the personal complexities of Jedburgh here, but again we are not spoon fed. He's a man with a death drive, yes, but he is at once sensitive and intelligent while cynical and worldly wise. Is he an environmental idealist, deep down? It's left, I think, deliberately ambiguous. Just like the future, and just like the historical currents in this chaotic world of ours, where the twin false gods of Marxism and market fundamentalism have in turn tried to impose a determinism and teleology which does not exist.

It's a downbeat ending, one that refuses to be neat and makes clear, to Harcourt's shock, that the activities at Northmoor were always sanctioned by the powers that be. Nuclear power exists. We live in a plutonium world. How long we can last is up to us. This isn't as easy, pleasant or enjoyable to watch as previous episodes, but art doesn't have to be any of those things. Sublime.

It Chapter Two (2019)

“You've all grown up..."

This is a long film, in many ways well-structured, good with character, well cast, with excellent effects and a witty script. There are plenty of effective scares and Bill Skarsgard is still a superb villain. This is a very good film. But it’s not quite up there with the first chapter.

Why? Well, I’ll admit it gets the main things right in spending time on the characters and the demons they carry. Pennywise always was a metaphor for abuse- sexual abuse, physical abuse, emotional abuse and (especially) gaslighting. This subtext is handled exactly right here, hence things like our glimpse of the horribly abusive relationship with which the adult Beverley starts the film. Henry Bowers, while bad, is bad because of the abuse he's suffered. And Bill's guilt over little Georgie always was exacerbated by Pennywise's gaslighting. And I like the way this version was careful to emphasise the childhood anxieties we all had, and which can linger into adulthood if we don't face them as the Losers do here. And Beverley may be a textbook example of Smurfette Syndrome, but one can't blame this film adaptation for that.

The visuals, direction, lighting and suspense are superb, as are most of the scares. But there are, it has to be said, one or two which don't quite work, and in some places made us laugh- floppy jiggle tits, I'm looking at you. And, while there are plenty of effectively funny lines, Bill Hader in particular is superb at this side of things, and there's a splendidly metatextual cameo by Stephen King in which he accuses his fictional alter ago Bill of the rubbish endings his own critics keep mentioning, in the end the film is just a little too long and flabby, ad could do with editing down just a little.

None of that detracts from the fact I very much enjoyed this film, however, and the way it was shot was superb. It just didn't quite match the standard of its predecessor.

Captain America (1990)

“This time we’ll have it made in Japan.”

Let's make no bones about this film, before I start to ironically praise it: there's no question that it's shite.

Its sins are many. Yes, films often change the mythology from the comics, but making the Red Skull Italian and not particularly Nazi means you haven't really got the |Red Skull... and then they remove the actual, er, red skull bit of him for the present day sequences. Matt Salinger has zero charisma or talent, and spends the first half of the film running away or being nervous. It's all plot with no characterisation- we're given  no reason to like these characters.

Comparing this with the 2011 MCU film would be a  cheap shot but, well, why not show us Steve in 1943 (why this pointless change?), telling a mate how desperate he is to serve his country, rather than having random characters blatantly exposit? Why not show Steve and Bernie as a couple before their embarrassingly awkward parting? Let's not pretend this film is at all adequate.

And yet... this film is by an offshoot of Cannon (it's complicated), by the same director as Cyborg, and has a perverse B movie charm, amusingly of its time in so many way. It's bad, of course, but entertainingly so. The Italian locations are pointless but beautiful. So yes, this film is rubbish, but perhaps more enjoyably so than its execrable reputation may imply.

The Mandalorian: Chapter 6- The Prisoner

“A lady never tells...”

This is the third episode in a row which puts the plot to one side in favour of a story of the week. I’m sure we’re all getting rather impatient by now, but at least this episode is a cut above the previous two, and has Richard Ayoade as a rather arrogant droid and a rather complex double crossing heist plot which feels, again, like something out of a Western.

Our man Mando used to run away with a rather interesting gang, played here by a nice little variety of character actors. Perhaps the most interesting of these is Xian, a rather flirtatious Twi’lek (why do no other Twi’leks look quite like Bib Fortuna did, with two proper gnarly tentacles rather than straight pointy ones?), but you can tell from the start that there’s no honour amongst these thieves, which makes them very different from Mando. Things go entertainingly wrong throughout with some superb directing throughout, with this episode again being shot like a horror film.

Meanwhile the smarmy droid has his own agenda with baby Yoda, but it’s never a good idea to try and shoot a toddler who is strong in the ways of the Force. This is one tough childminding gig. Mando certainly has guts.

We get clever plot twists, flirting, X Wing fighters and a gripping story. Fine. But can we get back to the arc now, please?

Edge of Darkness: Part 5- Northmoor

“To know is to die..."

The above quote, from the ever-mercurial and ever-unknowable Jedburgh, one of the most fascinating characters in television history, seems to illustrate a point: knowledge brings us death, whether the radiation thereof is literal or metaphorical. Shades of the myth of Adam and Eve there. Yet we understand why Craven's need to know exceeds his need to live- but what of Jedburgh, who knows this may be a suicide mission? While both seem to survive- Jedburgh with the plutonium- their life expectancy is likely to be much shortened.

This episode marks an extraordinary change of focus- yes, there are the scenes of the parliamentary committee to remind us of a wider, and contested, context, but the whole episode is shaped around our two protagonists retracing the steps of Emma (who doesn't appear- she no longer needs to?) and GAIA, while being tracked by those with no qualms about killing them. It's very much shot to emphasise the constant danger, discomfort and horror. Even the bunker, with its vintage wine and luxuries, feels like a cruel joke.

Interestingly, our protagonists are both acting, intentionally or not, on behalf of spooks on both sides of the pond. But ultimately this penultimate episode reveals less of the plot than expected, even as it reveals what is physically at Northmoor. Meaning and context can wait- but will the final episode give us that? Extraordinary and unpredictable telly, playing to no one's rules.

The Mandalorian: Chapter 5- The Gunslinger

“I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold...”

Another filler episode, then, our second in a row. It’s reasonably diverting, although notably not as good, so can we get back to the arc please?

This is only a sub-par episode by its own standards, of course. The opening starship battle is retro and cool, and the story of the week about a triangle of bounty hunters is intriguing enough, plus we get to see Ming-Na Wen. The comic mechanic and her card playing put droids are fun too. And it’s nice to see Mos Eisley again- this time a little less pernickety about droids.

But there’s not much development of plot or character, or much world building, although I like the Stormtrooper heads on spikes, and Toro’s defensive protest that “This ain’t Corellia” when showing off the speeder bikes.

But this is ultimately a double cross narrative that doesn’t go anywhere beyond this episode. It’s pretty much a Western with sci-fi trappings; even the Tusken Raiders are blatantly equated with Native Americans. Diverting, but please- no more filler.

Edge of Darkness: Part 4- Breakthrough

“Well, bodies kept turning up in the bunkers, and you needed air support to play out of the rough. Kinda puts you off your game."

My, this is getting very deep indeed in terms of plot, psychology and subtext. Nothing I say here will do much more than scratch the surface, but suffice to say that this is masterfully crafted stuff.

Craven is back at home, and almost killed by McCroon, the suspect, for banal reasons of revenge. Yet there's more to this, and not just in one way. Yes, there's the fact that someone gave McCroon the information and resources he needed, but there's also the dirty tricks that took place in Northern Ireland, and Craven's own hands are very much dipped in the blood; he personally recruited informers who were subsequently dropped and allowed to be offed by the Provos. This is, to say the least, no less dishonourable than the other political games going on.

There's the genuine question over Craven's mental state, as much is driven by the presence of Emma's ghost inside his head. Then there's the mercurial Jedburgh, whose entire outward personality is a performance. Who is he, underneath? He's not just eccentric- he seems extraordinarily sanguine about the apparent recent death in El Salvador (the series oozes with '80s current affairs), and his loyalties may not just be to his CIA employers. Are we convinced by the explanation he gives Craven for co-founding GAIA?

Eventually, in a very exciting sequence, Craven gets to hack a very 1980s IT network and get a little more information- not least a map of Northmoor. He also gets Godbold to spread the beans- and, while hopelessly in hock to the nuclear industry, he was in fact Emma's man on the inside- and lets slip that the killers almost certainly suspected Craven of fulfilling that role. This is already a complex web, and a compelling one. Plus, it seems, Craven and Jedburgh are going to retrace Emma's terrorist steps.

Excellent stuff. I raised an eyebrow, however, when Craven was told that you "don't say no" to a Commons select committee or "they lock you up". Someone should tell that to Dominic Cummings.

Edge of Darkness: Part 3- Burden of Proof

"I don't believe in the conspiracy theory of history."

This episode may perhaps be, again, less obviously artistic than the first and even more so than the second and, by now, deeply engrossed and, indeed, engrossing in the unravelling of the complex yet clearly narrated plot, but that is achieved without sacrificing either characterisation or verbal wit. This is still extraordinary, even sublime television, three episodes in.

Bob Peck is again, well, deservedly BAFTA-winning in how he portrays deep emotion and bereavement in a restrained man. Craven may be seen, by the end, by his boss as in need of help over his seeming obsession with deeper conspiracies behind Emma's death, but he is simultaneously seen by Harcourt and Pendleton, those nebulous spooks, as a credible witness for their plans to somehow nobble Bob Bennett, whom they suspect of killing Emma. Craven refuses them, of course, being the decent father that he is, but this goes to illusrate that things are not as they seem. The Texan act of the ever-thinking Jedburgh is, as H and P point out, an act. He's a fascinating, deep and nuanced character, hiding beneath both a stereotype and a supposed political standpoint, yet according to Clemmie he co-founded GAIA, an environmental organisation he now loudly derides as terrorists? With him, there are layers to unpeel.

It's odd, and disturbing, to learn of Craven's intimate, touchy-feely interrogation techniques with Lowe, but then it's established that he's a sex offender. Godbolt again pops up, looking anxious to deny things And Terry, Emma's erstwhile boyfriend, is murdered in the bath after giving Craven a clue. The plot thickens, as always. And there are far too many nuances to recount the plot. Suffice to say, I'm gripped.

If this all reads as the work of a drunk person, well, I'm forty-three today, and I've just finished a bottle of rather good Chilean Cabernet. Burp. Stay at home. Beat coronavirus with good wine. That is all.

The Mandalorian: Chapter 4- Sanctuary

“Stop touching things!"

A bit of a change of pace, here: our protagonist has suddenly burned loads of bridges and is looking after a child with a huge bounty on it's head. No wonder that he spends the episode on an out-of-the way episode hiding from what is, in effect, the season arc.

Much of this episode I like, including bounty hunter Cara, the cool red-eyed and menacing AT-ST which is shot like a monster in a horror film, and the doomed romance between our protaonist and the village woman. I like the way there's a third world but chilled and pleasant looking mud hut village in this futuristic world, and the cuteness of Baby Yoda playing with the other kids. But, well, there's a "but" coming.

The opening flashback sequence set in this very village- is this of our Mandalorian himself, showing what happened to him before he was found by Mandalorians, or is it perhaps a less literal parallel? And why, in protecting the village from these baddies with a badass AT-ST, does he not use his ship? He may not want to attract attention, but the agreed upon plan has that effect anyway.

Nonetheless, we get some nice moments, including the revelation that the Mandalorian hasn’t revealed his face to anyone since he was a teenager, and this episode more than any other gives a strong impression of chivalry and the ideals of knightly behaviour in a science fiction context, suggesting a meaning beyond an arty and well-made show which might otherwise nevertheless remain in its geeky ghetto.

But this, of course, is an interlude. Our protagonist and the pointy rated child must move on, and I suspect it’s time for the series arc to return. Again, good stuff, but a more flawed episode than the previous three.

The Mandalorian: Chapter 3- The Sin

“This is the Way!”

This series is getting deeper and even more interesting. On the surface this is an episode of our (anti-?) hero delivering baby Yoda to his famous German film director employer with his Stormtrooper bodyguards, using his Beskar payment to have a new and swankier suit of armour made, but after a crisis of conscience finally deciding to rescue the child from what seems like potential vivisection- and getting unexpected help for I revealed reasons from loads of other Mandalorians. That’s it. That’s the plot.

Except there’s a lot more to it than that, some of it very subtle character development and some of it equally subtle world building. And, like previous episodes, it’s beautifully shot.

The scene in the armoury drops all sorts of fascinating hints about Mandalorian culture, and "the Way"-  a fastidious code of honour and the need to  provide some (very expensive) Beskar for the needs of "foundlings". There are hints that the Empire, although now very much defunct, is disliked for what it has done to reduce Mandalorian numbers. There are also hints that his Ugnaught friend of recent episodes was unknowingly helping an enemy.

And so our protagonist gets some new armour, equipped with "Whistling birds" and visits Greef Kargo for another job. Time to move on from Baby Yoda, right? After all, he's been paid and it's against the bounty hunter code to enquire further, right?

Except he decides to rescue the child- and his fellow Mandalorians, we know not why, must agree with his reasons as he eventually receives their help in numbers and, as dialogue confirms, risk of unpleasant consequences. Is this linked to their commitment to "foundlings", including baby Yoda now?

Our protagonist fights both his recent employer and Greef, his source of new jobs. He must be pretty damn committed to this kid. And again our central character is fascinating- always helmeted, taciturn, but ethical and conflicted. This is excellent stuff.

Ant-Man and the Wasp (2018)

“Anyone see a southern gentleman carrying a building?”

We have Disney Plus now, so it’s time to go back and fill those few remaining gaps. The oldest film I haven’t blogged (but have seen) is Captain America: Civil War, but I’ll get to that soon. This is another Marvel triumph, if anything better than its predecessor, and the perfect blend of comedy, heist antics and superheroics. Paul Rudd is again superb, with excellent comic timing, and the whole plot fits together like the perfect farce. This is the comedy corner of the MCU, and it’s a fun place to be. 

There’s also plenty to satisfy my inner geek. Scott’s antics with “Cap” have had severe consequences. The first post-credits scene links things very firmly with the events in the more serious films. And we have a new female version of Ghost- whose father is Egghead, a nice touch. We also meet Bill Foster- played superbly, as ever, by Laurence Fishburne. Let’s hope he’ll be Goliath once more the next time we see him. Michelle Pfeiffer may be very much at odds with the Janet Van Dyne from the comics, but she’s good. It’s good to see her and Hank Pym get their happy ending- sort of.

This film mixes stapstick humour, wit, superhero action, car chases and quantum trippiness to give us a concoction that may not aspire any higher than to be a fun little blockbuster, but it does that very well. Any film with a building that can be wheeled along like a briefcase has to be cool.

The Way Ahead (1944)

"I wonder what we'll look like in 1970, ."

I write this on the seventy-fifth anniversary of VE Day, in 2020. It's a weird anniversary, during the Great Plague and in the midst of lockdown. But oddly enough spirits seem to be raised. I took Little Miss Llamastrangler out on her scooter this afternoon and lots of people have decorated their front gardens and are socialising from a distance. A decent amount of alcohol, I hope, has been consumed. I'm doing my bit. The anniversary of Nazi rule being crushed is well worth celebrating, and can perhaps give us hope.

So what better to blog than a wartime propaganda film from 1944, when things were looking up but victory was uncertain? Prpaganda this may be, but crude it isn't. Eric Ambler and Peter Ustinov (also appearing as a pied-noir cafe owner in occupied Algeria) have given us a very human script full of individuals who ring true today, let alone in 1944. Lloyd (I recognise the actor from The Great Escape) is an unscrupulous landlord turned courageous soldier, while Parsons is a victim of such types. There's mention of the Beveridge Report. For much of the class consciousness and difference which is the main thing which ages social mores in this film, there's a real solidarity that demands a Welfare State along with victory.

There may be better way films than this, but it does a fine job of showing ordinary blokes slowly being turned into soldiers, with lots of action at the very end. David Niven is excellent and charismatic, Stanley Holloway is brilliantly comedic, but a young William Hartnell perhaps gives the best performance as the sergeant. It’s also clear that this was a huge influence on Carry On Sergeant in terms of plot, and not just Hartnell. Then again, a young John Laurie may as well be playing a younger Private Fraser from Dad’s Army, and the Chelsea Pensioners acting as Greek Chorus probably contain the seeds of a certain other character who was wont to mention fuzzy wuzzies. Very much worth seeing. And happy VE Day. Stay safe.

Edge of Darkness: Part 2- Into the Shadows

“It’s an anal disease. Marx has trouble with his bowels...”

A less poetic episode this time, perhaps. The camera lingers less and we have a greater focus on the unfolding mystery. There's a lot of plot, although masterful scripting means both that it's easy to follow and the exposition follows naturally from character.

So the subtle recap  at the start comes from the faces of the appalled investigating officers as they hear a tape recording of Ronald Craven's testimony- and I shall start calling him Craven rather than Ronnie; it fits his world. And the world of the spooks- not just Pendleton but Harcourt, his eccentric "other half", played by a young Ian McNeice- is one of exposition, certainly, but also of contrast- southern as opposed to northern, wit and eccentricity as opposed to Craven's sober stillness.

Then there's Emma's shifty boyfriend Terry, played an extraordinarily young Tim McInnerny of the same age as when he first played Percy in Black Adder II. He's a man of apparently strong political views but of dodgy loyalties- a police informer and sleeping with another girl before Emma is even buried. He is, I think, very much a type you'll see in the various organisations of the hard left, some of them rather rapey and all of them full of big fish playing their little games in small pools. Craven doesn't like him and, as we see everything through his eyes (including his daughter in his mind's eye, which continues to humanise him), neither do we.

But by this point we know that Emma led a raid on a nuclear facility at Northmoor. And we, and Craven, learn much more when we meet the fascinating figure of Jedburgh, who hides considerable depths beneath that Stetson hat and brash, Republican, Commie-bashing exterior. He and Craven bond unexpectedly over Willie Nelson, and we discover more juicy little details.

This is clever, controlled, deeply human and a fascinating glimpse into the psyche of 1985. I'm utterly addicted.

Edge of Darkness: Part 1- Compassionate Leave

“Stop playing by the rules, Ronald."

I'm going in cold; unlike several old classic BBC dramas I haven't seen this before. And first impressions are that, gosh, this is good. Moody, griping, atmospheric, well directed and all of that from the very start. Even the music is effective and evocative with Eric Clapton's guitar singing with emotion- and I say this as someone who can appreciate Clapton's talent (even Hendrix really rated him), but really isn't a fan of the sort of slickly produced, show-offy guitar wanking that he'd become known for by this point, a kind of Mark Knopfler with a more impressive past.

And mood is central here. Oh, there's compelling mystery and conspiracy here aplenty- Ronnie, a Yorkshire police inspector, is investigating a somewhat menacing and dodgy Trade Union official (or Labour MP; it isn't clear) who is, I suspect a red herring. His daughter is a charismatic political activist who is suddenly shot dead by a gunman who may have been aiming for him. So he heads down to London on leave to investigate her death, only to be told by a spook that she was some sort of "terrorist". That is, I suppose, more or less the plot.

But this episode isn't really about any of that at all. It's about Ronnie's immense pain of bereavement- he lost his wife to cancer and has now lost his daughter- channeled through a very masculine, very English and, indeed, very Yorkshire stiff upper lip concealing swirling depth of emotional ferment, conveyed with extraordinary stillness by Bob Peck. It's also about the close and emotional relationship between a father and the daughter he never fully knew- something which has a powerful force for any father of a daughter. Her ghost speaks to him in his head throughout, showing us what a strong bond they had after his wife's death- and crucially humanising this undemonstrative man.

It's in searching Emma's bedroom that Ronnie finds a folder full of artifacts relating to something she seems to have been investigating- a map, a gun, a Geiger counter- but the scene is about more than plot. It's about Ronnie putting Willie Nelson's "Time of the Preacher" on the record player and the song mirrors his action, moods and desires- ending with it quite clear that he's on a mission of revenge.

One brief scene hints at some men, one of them a Stetson-sporting American, who seem to have been in on whatever Emma was up to, but we follow Ronnie down to the alien, unsettling world of London and the south of England, where things become even more murky.

There are glimpses of political issues throughout- early environmentalism; nuclear weapons; the corruption of the old Trade Union establishment- but it's striking how soft left Labour MP and future Environment minister, the late Michael Meacher, gets to do the large part of what looks like a stump speech.

I don't know where this is going yet. But I know how it feels, and so far it's wonderful.

Good Omens: Lockdown

No regular blog post today, but you absolutely must see this...

https://youtu.be/quSXoj8Kob0

Batman: Ice Spy & The Duo Defy

Ice Spy

"Gosh, Batman. That's sure great wit all right."

Only in Batman would the above quote relate to gentle taking the piss out of Rabelais and his supposed great wit. I suspect some long-held pedagogical grudge on the part of writer Charles Hoffman.

Overall, though, this is a perfectly decent couple of episodes that has more than its share of funny moments but never really stands out. Eli Wallach gives a perfectly good performance but I think the character of Mr Freeze, on his third actor now, has outstayed his welcome somewhat. If they carry on like that they'll be casting some random Austrian bodybuilder next.

The plot is delightfully silly- use a fake iceberg to hijack a cruise ship and hijack an Icelandic professor with some formula or other. There's a glamorous moll, of course. There's a moderately interesting death trap. But the highlight of the episode, and comic highlight from the splendid Adam West, is where Gordon and O'Hara hold two phones together so Batman and Bruce Wayne can hold a conversation. It's not the first time I've said it, but being a comic straight man requires enormous talent, and West has it in spades.

Oh, and what's this window cameo from the "Carpet King"? Who he?


The Duo Defy

"A true crime fighter always carries everything he needs in his utility belt, Robin"

This second episode is just a little by-the-numbers, with a more than usually rubbish cliffhanger resolution and an ending that feels rushed, but we get more dialogue heralding the imminent arrival of Barbara Gordon, and enough wit and fun to make up for the so-so plot and mildly rubbish villain. No wonder we won't see Mr Freeze again.

The stakes, and ransom demands, are absurdly and wonderfully high. There's a nice moment in the Batcopter with the usual piece of stock footage where Robin says he can't track the bugged seal below, and Batman gently reminds him that the seal is in fact a marine mammal. We even get a slight reprise of the same Rabelais quote.

Overall, then, an average and representative story, not inappropriate to end the second season, which has had both highs and lows but notably more of the former.

A quick diversion while I blog something else (something short) over the next few days, then Season Three...

Destroy All Monsters (1968)

"The Earth does not belong to you humans!"

I love me a very silly monster film, and this is the silliest yet. It's the unimaginably far future, the year 1999, and naturally the UN has a base on the Moon and regular space trips there by scientists. Even more naturally, it's all controlled from a Japanese island and absolutely everyone involved is Japanese barring one token speaking foreign scientist and a couple of extras. Oh, and the social mores and interior decor are very much of the late ‘60s, and everyone smokes. Well, the men at any rate.

Oh, and all the monsters from previous films (some of which I don’t recognise but the main ones like Mothra and Rodan are all there) are kept on that very same island, prevented by technology from wandering off for a spot of marauding. Minilla doesn’t seem to be any older at all in the far future, but let’s discreetly ignore that.

But along come some nasty alien conquerors, made of metal and immortal but appearing as women and doing a lot of exposition. These fiends are using all the monsters to attack major world cities, including a major set piece in which Tokyo is destroyed yet again. You can tell it’s coming as soon as you see the nice model monorail. I love how this is such a very ‘60s idea of the future.

Fortunately good old human ingenuity and heroism wins the day, and the monsters are used to attack the aliens- but not before a massive and rather fun climactic battle between all the monsters and King Ghidorah.

This is the sort of fun, undemanding, hugely entertaining film that they just don't make any more.

Star Wars: Attack of the Clones (2002)

“I’m programmed for etiquette, not destruction.”

I tried to like The Phantom Menace but, while I found a good concept at its core, I didn’t entirely succeed. This time around, despite a couple of uncharismatic leads, I was surprised to find a film that was pretty damn good.

Ewan McGregor, though a good actor, is far too hopelessly miscast and awkwardly stiff as Obi Wan, a problem which remains. I didn't find Hayden Christensen t all bad as Anakin, despite his reputation, and his acting is sound- but he just doesn't have the charisma. These two aside, though, we have an engaging cast led by Natalie Portman, a superb baddie in Christopher Lee, and a bigger role for the Jedi council. We also have an exciting and well structured film that both cleverly moves the plot arc forward and convincingly develops the characters.

The main arc- the beginning of the clone wars and Palpatine assuming more power, chipping away at democracy in the beleaguered Republic as he ostensibly increases its security with a clone army-hints at an old tension between liberty and security, and it's clear that Anakin, influenced as much by Palpatine as his actual mentor Obi Wan, is on the side of the authoritarians. Yet I'm surprised more is not made of the Roman parallels- a Republic with an overstretched web of territory becoming more and more swayed by the necessity of a strong military, and even a popular politician manipulating himself into the position of Dictator, like Caesar. The political skulduggery is very well handled indeed.

Yet so is the gradually and convincingly developing romance between Padme and Anakin, which is entirely believable. And Anakin begins as likeable and not really a bad bloke- what's wrong with reasonably questioning authority, having a sexuality, being idealistic? And his only sins here are the urge to protect his mother and the woman he loves. It's only when he slaughters the Tusken Raiders as revenge for his mother, including the children, and when he lets slip his authoritarian leanings, that hints of darkness begin to appear in him as they do with the Republic itself.

But there's also plenty of action throughout, some good comedy with C-3PO and R2-D2, and some actual wit and humour in the dialogue, a joy to behold. We even get to see a cool, Kiwi origin for Boba Fett (not named here as a Mandalorian!), a lightsabre contest between Count Dooku and the awesome Yoda, and a confrontation scene between legends Christopher Lee and Samuel L. Jackson.

I think I'll come out and say it; there are a couple of flaws, yes, but the second of the prequels is a bloody good film.