Basically: bouncing boobs, breached bodices, bonking, beauty, blondes, brunettes, betrayal, backstabbing, blood bonds, bastard babies, beheading, Bana, Boleyn. Bogstandard historical “fact”/fiction that skips superficially over and through major historical events rapidly, particuarly towards the end, in favour of a focus on lust and madness. The supporting cast appear predominantly British, such as the colourfully named Sherlock Benedict Cumberbatch, but Hollywood starlets from overseas are favoured for the key roles, with an Australian playing the English King and prim performances from Natalie Portman and Scarlett Johanasson as the sisters. In many ways a two-dimensional affront to historical storytelling, this film is however ultimately watchable due to most of it resembling a Tudor version of those sexy M and S ads, such is the brilliant beauty of the period detail and exquisite human forms of the cast. This isn’t just a Royal sex scandal, it’s Scarlett Johansson moaning with ecstascy as Bana’s buff Henry the Eighth towers over her, expressing his divine power as monarch in glorious slow-mo. This isn’t just sisterly rivalry, but a catfight between Portman’s manipulative, manicured and manufactured British tones and Johansson’s saintly gasps of disbelief, with the prizes of religion, state, power and wealth at stake. Meet the original, surprisingly well-to-do, respectful and ambitious footballer’s wives.
Tag Archives: Sherlock
The next series of Doctor Who will be split in two, with the first half of the usual 13 part run ending in the spring and picking up after a cliff hanger in the Autumn. I must say that at the moment, finding myself missing Moffat’s new Who already, I wish this was already the set-up as the wait till spring 2011 seems endless. What is so exciting is as I mentioned in my series 5 review, that Moffat feels like he was merely setting something up and this season split containing a “game changing” half way cliffhanger, may well answer many of the questions raised in the current story arc about cracks in time etc that were left brilliantly unresolved even by a two part season finale full of loose end tying. Those snatched moments of Davros’ voice may finally prove significant and will the Doctor’s relationship with either River Song or Amy progress? Will we even get a new Doctor? This seems unlikely given that Smith has grown into the role and won me and millions of other Tennant fans over, but after what Moffat is claiming would be three series (he insists the split makes two effectively different runs, not one split into) it might be time for a new Doctor by Christmas 2011 or spring 2012.
And wouldn’t some of us Moffat fans just love it if he plucked Benedict Cumberbatch from his other recent smash success Sherlock, from sleuthing in London’s modern streets to prowling and pondering aboard the Tardis? Sadly to hold two such iconic roles would seem too much but prior to him brilliantly reinterpreting Holmes for the modern era Cumberbatch would have made the perfect aloof, awkward, genius Timelord. It’s probably a long way off but I’m sure when Moffat does change the lead actor he will surprise us all, perhaps with someone older, perhaps with controversy or another relative unknown. With regards to Sherlock it shall be getting its second series and the DVD of the first soon to be released, boldly contains the original pilot, also called A Study in Pink like the first episode, but missing some crucial elements like the on-screen texting, the typical Moffat Mycroft-Moriarty subplot and more detail of the murders. I look forward to getting my copy of the series, not only to have the excellent episodes on tap whenever I crave them but also to study the transformation from pilot idea to brilliant, fully realised, popular smash hit. Moffat will certainly be the centre attention again come 2011, with a second series of Sherlock and Doctor Who to pull off in the face of massive expectations. I’m sure he can do it.
I’ve seen A Single Man twice and I am pleased to say it lost none of its impact upon a second viewing. The first time I watched it I was shocked at how I connected with it emotionally. It was the sort of heart squeezing link I only usually make with a piece of music or a poem; it was less a film than a piece of art saying something, expressing something, profoundly true about existence.
Of course for many critics the idea that this film was a glorious piece of visual art, a stimulating feast for the eyes, was simultaneously a strength to be applauded and a glaring weakness deflating all worth from the project. I had previously only come across the director and co-writer Tom Ford as the man who designed Daniel Craig’s suits for the Bond reboot Casino Royale. Whilst the tux was suitably suave my lack of expertise in the area meant I withheld judgement on Ford as an artist and a filmmaker until after the film. Those who knew better than me talked knowingly of Ford’s accomplished designing abilities and the inevitable shiny gloss of beautiful high fashion that would be evident in every frame of A Single Man. However critics also questioned the designer turned director’s ability to make his first film something more than a 90 minute perfume ad.
There are moments that feel a little too polished. In particular a flashback sequence in black and white that pictures Colin Firth and his dead lover sunbathing on an impossibly rocky, empty hillside. The Guardian critic picked out this scene as one that felt too crisp, too artificial and more at home in the fashion world than the realm of gay, grieving George’s story. I was inclined to agree but perhaps I was being too harsh. Having seen the whole film twice and loved it both times I am certainly more than happy to overlook an artificial feel to what was after all a dream sequence.
Besides those critics too focused upon the abundance of style in A Single Man may be missing the whole point of the story. Colin Firth’s bereaved, suicidal character comes to see that life is greatly lacking substance; style wins the day. Be it the style he hides behind for his neighbours, colleagues or students, George the lecturer deals mostly in the triumph of style over substance. His substance used to be Jim, his long term lover, but this was taken from him. The film charts a single day in this single man’s life, showing us mostly the tedious motions of his stylish act, with occasional glimpses of substance through the excellent, restrained performance of Colin Firth. That essence of suppressed British emotion so often seen in trashy romantic comedies finally finds its perfect place here in a gay man pondering the meaning of life. The film climaxes with a kind of answer to this question, as through an encounter with a student who reminds him of youth, George comes to treasure the handful of meaningful moments, when all seems clear, that really do make the veneer of stylish everyday nonsense worthwhile.
So first time director Tom Ford must be praised for pulling off such a story. He should not listen to those who criticise the stylishness of his film as it simply irresistibly oozes the essence of an era I absolutely love and as discussed above, the sheer beauty of every frame adds to the meaning of the piece. He also co-wrote the script which seems to be a sensitive adaptation of Isherwood’s original work and is just the right length; this is a man capable of fine tuning the components of storytelling not just the image in front of a camera. Colin Firth’s performance, along with those supporting him, is also completely believable and compelling. Most films with a voiceover inevitably disappoint but this one pulls it off, largely due to Firth. A Single Man is certainly not a gripping, edge of your seat film experience but it is a compelling story beautiful enough to hang on your wall. If you could do so you would, for every time you see it you will ponder the nature of the human condition profoundly and re-examine your life.
To Sherlock then, a new version of the classic Holmes and Watson partnership, that updates the sleuthing to a modern day London setting. This time-leap transformation has not really been explored by filmmakers, perhaps out of respect for the characters’ grounding in Victoriana, or perhaps because it couldn’t be done well.
But if anyone can do it surely Steven Moffat, head writer of Doctor Who previously discussed on this blog, could! In partnership with fellow Whovian script writer Mark Gattis, Moffat has set out to introduce Holmes and Watson to a new generation via a new crime fighting era. The idea for the series came about during journeys to Doctor Who’s Cardiff HQ. In the title role Benedict Cumberbatch, an actor I have long thought would make an excellent Doctor at some point, plays the brilliant, socially inept mastermind of detection. The music for the series is composed by David Arnold of Bond film fame. All these things meant I couldn’t not like this programme!
I did of course love the first episode, A Study in Pink, perhaps all the more for being able to note Moffat’s little tweaks from Conan Doyle’s original story that united Holmes and Watson for the first time, A Study in Scarlet. However as with A Single Man the style was sometimes more impressive than the substance. A Guardian review has already noted that the plot was thin for this first episode, despite some wonderful Moffat-esque twists such as Mycroft appearing to be Moriarty and most importantly of all the spot on characterisation. Martin Freeman’s Watson is just the right balance between war veteran and ordinary man, avoiding the bumbling screen Watsons of past adaptations. Cumberbatch’s Holmes is marvellously distant, methodical and brilliant. The Sherlock influences on Dr Who were apparent whilst watching this and vice versa. I do hope Benedict gets a shot at being a Timelord. For now though I shall enjoy his interpretation of another one of my favourite characters and hope that this promising opener was but a taster of better things to come.
I feel guilty that after airing my views on that early teaser trailer on this blog, warning that this series may fall short, it is only now that I have found the time to correct myself. However that is largely due to the fact that I have enjoyed this series so much that to sit down and analyse both its successes and failings after each individual episode would have spoilt the experience. In truth though the vast majority of my doubts for the future of the nation’s beloved Timelord had been dispelled following Moffat’s first episode, The Eleventh Hour. This extended adventure abandoned the repetitive London setting of the Russell T. Davies era and brilliantly ushered in a whole new set of characters and relationships, along with a regenerated Doctor. My greatest concern, the ability of Matt Smith to replace Tennant in the role, was also mostly alleviated by his first performance alone.
That is not to say this series has not had its disappointments. When Moffat has personally penned an episode there have been no problems with quality or balance, but other writers struggled to successfully tick all the Whovian boxes. The first episode to disappoint was The Victory of the Daleks, although to be fair this may have been because expectations were disproportionately raised by the sight of Churchill and the pepper pot villains in the trailer and were impossible to live up to in a single episode. Perhaps the worst episodes of the series were the Silurian double bill set somewhat unbelievably in a Welsh mining town undergoing a globally ambitious drilling project, staffed by the odd local. I think it was a mistake to follow the rurally set Amy’s Choice, one of those brilliant low budget, idea heavy episodes stuffed with terrific acting performances, humour and insight into the Doctor’s character, with another village location and casually brush aside the glaring lack of funds by having the Doctor insist he had been aiming for Rio. This two part story also felt thin and unable to properly engage for two whole weeks. A promising start, of Amy being sucked into the earth, gave way to a predictable storyline of culture clash and negotiation, with crudely drawn Silurian and human characters.
Following this Richard Curtis’ Van Gogh episode was also weak, despite some nice flourishes. The gaping hole in the strength of Curtis’ tale was the fact that the monster of “pure evil” only Van Gogh could see turned out to be an irrelevance, easily dealt with and disconnected from the heart of the story. In many ways it may have been better to dispense with the monster completely and simply have the Doctor indulge in a spot of emotional time travel, as this is clearly all Curtis wanted to do and in the final scene he did it wonderfully movingly. I was also not enthused by The Lodger despite generally positive reviews of it elsewhere. For me the basic premise of the plot could have been much more satisfactorily explored (I mean something was building a TARDIS??? What?) and the sight of James Corden on television is beginning to verge on repulsive.
Having said this that episode did offer an unblemished close up of the eleventh Doctor’s character, charisma and performance. For me the most pleasantly surprising thing about this series has been the ease with which Matt Smith has become a Timelord and banished nostalgic longing for Tennant. His interpretation of the character has seen a refreshing return to a more detached, alien figure, as by the end of RTD’s tenure Tennant’s Timelord was still lamenting the loss of Rose and envying his duplicate’s mortal existence with her. It’s clear that each actor playing the Doctor draws heavily on his predecessor however, and Smith clearly embraces much of Tennant’s lunacy, whilst also reviving the arrogance embodied in Eccleston’s leather swagger. For me it seems only fitting that the last of the Timelord’s should have such a high minded view of himself and Smith plays the Doctor brimming with a quirky, bumbling confidence of his own. Karen Gillan also brings assurance and feisty fire to the role of redhead Amy Pond. The actress has been at her best when not trundling out generic whiny phrases in a thickening Scottish accent, but in rare glimpses of emotion such as during the scene when she could not open her eyes, surrounded by Weeping Angels. The return of these stealthy statues from critically acclaimed Blink was a gamble for Moffat but one he pulled off spectacularly. He must also gain much credit for Smith’s fresh take on the Doctor, as his writing emphasises both the marvellous methodical detective and mad professor in him.
Indeed there seems to be no doubt that most of what is good about this new look Doctor Who is down to new head writer Steven Moffat. Previous contributions to the RTD series made his talent for exploiting childhood fears evident, but given creative control over the show he has shown an aptitude for the perfect two part episode and a gripping narrative arc. I have already praised the opening episode but the second, The Beast Below, thrilled me. It had a chilling cocktail of scares, “smilers”, floors sliding away in lifts, a shadowy government (led by the demon headmaster!), and also established Amy’s competence as a companion in a unique, imaginative way (Britain floating on a space whale!) that said something about the Doctor. The return of the Weeping Angels managed to capture the brilliance of the original by acknowledging the need for a different type of story, with Moffat himself comparing it to the greater scale of Aliens 2 following Aliens. And after all the teasing about cracks in time, what a finale last weekend!
Episode 12, The Pandorica Opens, was fantastically bold in scale and again the setting of Roman Britain was a refreshing departure from the RTD trend of grand finales unravelling in present day London. After several twists and turns the Doctor was imprisoned within the Pandorica by an alliance of his foes, as the TARDIS began to explode and destroy the universe itself. It was difficult to predict the direction of episode 13, but one would have guessed some sort of reckoning for the Doctor with his formidable coalition of villains and an explanation as to who, or what, was manipulating the TARDIS and causing it to explode. Certainly what sounded like the voice of Davros could be heard in episode 12, cackling that “silence will fall”.
However much to my relief Moffat continued to surprise, as Davros would have been a tired end to such a fresh new series. Moffat seems to recognise the key to successful double episodes is contrast, and so the Doctor went from facing a horde of enemies to a solitary, ailing Dalek and the little problem of a “total event collapse”. Cue some gloriously fun time hopping involving a fez and a mop and a performance ranging from daft brilliance to retrained pain from Smith that confirms his evolution into the last Timelord. The significance of the wedding was at last explained and Rory and Amy restored to the TARDIS, all set for new adventures, with the huge questions of River Song and who caused that explosion still to be answered.
All in all Moffat has rebooted the show, just as the Doctor hit refresh on the universe with the “Big Bang 2”, and restored a sense of the magical and fairytale by always surprising and sometimes replacing the blockbuster scale of RTD’s tenure with classic, intimate scares (e.g. the headless Cyberman in episode 12 vs. the hordes of them in RTD stories). Best of all as this fairytale series comes to an end it feels as if it is only the set up for something greater to come.