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selenak: (Discovery)
Now I've avoided both Doctor Who and ST related interviews because I didn't want to be spoiled, but the constant hate-on Fandomsecrets has for my beloved Discovery has inadvertendly informed me RTD had the good taste to like it, so I googled, and the passage invoking the Disco hating folks' ire from an article/interview pre DW season premiere some months ago goes thusly:

Speaking to Davies ahead of the two-episode premiere, I had to ask what motivated him to include that little quip. He explained that while he’d been a more casual viewer of the older shows like the original series and The Next Generation, it was the newer shows that really turned him into a proper Star Trek fan. “I'm coming to love Star Trek with an absolute passion,” said Davies. “I love the old show. I always watched the old show, but when Star Trek: Discovery came along, I kind of became a proper fan.” It’s always nice to see Discovery get the flowers it deserves. Responsible for kicking off the current era of Star Trek, the series gets an unreasonable amount of flack on the internet for its commitment to diversity and inclusion — two hallmarks of the entire franchise.

Davies went on to praise more of the recent Trek series, even gushing about his crush on Captain Pike — and honestly, who doesn’t have a crush on Captain Pike. “So now I'm devoted, with Picard and Strange New Worlds. Frankly, the fact that I'm not married to Captain Pike is a major problem in my life, and I look to you, Collider, to put this right, frankly. It’s a wrong that needs righting,” Davies laughed. “I love that man. Oh, god, he's beautiful, Anson Mount. What a great name.”


The entire article is here. Crushing on Pike is understandable, and if there is ever an on screen DW/ST canonical crossover, I shall no longer be surprised.

BTW: I still intend to write the big "Why I love ST: Discovery" manifesto, but right now I really do not have the time.
selenak: (Illyria by Kathyh)
Had a very very busy week, though yes, I did watch the DW finale.

Thoughts )
selenak: (Frobisher by Letmypidgeonsgo)
In which RTD, after having vented his whimsy in the season opener and his horror writer in "72 Yards", now reminds us he's also responsible for stuff like the COBRA meeting in Day 4 of Children of Earth. All disguised in what first comes across as a satire on social mediai, no less. Wow.

Spoilers don't want to lower their bubble )

In conclusion: another superb episode. This is shaping up as an unforgettable season.
selenak: (Pompeii by Imbrilin)
Special the second, in which RTD taps into his Midnight/ Waters of Mars writing vein, with added „I have Tate and Tennant for these specials, and by God I‘m going to use them!“

Mavity? )
selenak: (Tardis - Hellopinkie)
Be on the road for a week, and what happens? A fannish timeloop, it feels like.

Doctor Who )

Babylon 5 )
selenak: (Donna Noble by Cheesygirl)
I have to say, RTD's post Doctor Who career is a superb one where the last few years is concerned. The five part miniseries It's a sin which I've just finished is the third in a row - after Years and Years and A Very English Scandal - where I feel like doffing my non existant hat at the sheer vitality of characters and masterfulness of storytelling. By which I don't mean you can't nitpick - of course you can - but that this series was the first visual media in a good while where I found myself utterly incapable of as much as check my emails or do anything else but be glued to the screen for all the hours of its run. Because he made me care, because I did not want to miss a moment of what was going on in the lives of the main characters.

Now, if you've read anything about It's A Sin already, you'll know it tackles the AIDS decade (the series starts 1981, ends 1989) full on. The four main characters - Ritchie, Roscoe, Colin and their friend Jill - as well as the supporting cast show the effect of AIDS on the gay community. And Davies gets to use his strengths as a storyteller - the ability to do comedy and tragedy at the same time, to get across joy, to write both found and bio family dynamics - to the max. There are inevitable contemporary echoes - the uncertainty and initial lack of information of how to deal with this new illness, or even what kind of illness it is, the completely inadequate government response, but also denial as a response on the parts of some of the people in danger. There are specific 1980s issues, not least the far more obvious homophobia and the way gay partners had no legal rights as opposed to the biological families, but also the unabashed polyamorous hedonism about to come to a crashing halt, the need for American print media as a way to get information.

There are any number of obvious trapfalls with a story like this. I thought RTD manages to avoid most of them; for example, the idea of the virus as a moral judgment. (There are several promiscous characters as well as characters who only had sex with one partner. By the storytelling choice as to who lives and who dies - this isn't a spoiler, it's a series with AIDS as a main subject, of course only part of the cast will survive -, it's made very clear the virus doesn't care.) Or the temptation of a first half all joy, second half all tragedy. This also does not happen. One of the appeals of the miniseries is that it somehow manages to keep its characters' capacity to be happy whenever they get the chance despite the increasing death score around them. And he keeps up the wit (as well as the occasional toilet humor, from a rimming gone wrong in the opening episode to Roscoe's retaliation when it becomes clear to him just how the Tory politician he has sex with really sees him).

Not that you don't get your heart ripped out as the story proceeds. But not in a gratitious angst way. (And RTD could fall into that particular pit in the past, as we all know.) The overall story is also an ode to the power of friendship, of the activism and caring that develops in response to the terror.

Lastly: the actors are all great. Lydia West, who plays Jill, I'd seen in Years and Years, but the three main young men were all new to me. (Olly Alexander, Omari Douglas and Collum Scott Howells, respectively, as well as Nathaniel Curtis as Ash Mukherjee who is the fifth Beatle, so to speak.) Neil Patrick Harris and Stephen Fry get short but important appearances. I kept wondering why Davies cast a powerhouse like Keeley Hawes as Richie's mother, seeing her as a bit wasted in the part, until the last episode in which it became abundantly clear why it had to be her.

Trivia: Here's a check list to cross out when you're watching an RTD production which applies to this one:

- an important character is Welsh

- someone has the last name Jones or Tyler (only the first one in this case)

- "Tainted Love" makes it onto the soundtrack

- while there are requited love affairs, at least one important character pines for another important character unrequitedly for a while (NOT the fantastic female main character in this case, THANK GOD)

- dig at Margaret Thatcher somewhere

- Manchester is involved and/or a main location (in this case: filming location, though the story itself takes place in London)

- Doctor Who mention! (our Mr. Davies apparently got the license to use a Dalek; since one of the characters, Ritchie, is an actor in the 1980s, he gets a bit part on Old Who)

- family arguments & family reconciliations (not necessarily the same families)

- several key scenes take place in a kitchen

- powerful coming out scene (several, in fact, but given the main subject, that's inevitable).

Links

Feb. 11th, 2021 02:33 pm
selenak: (Rheinsberg)
This isn't the best of weeks, so have a few links for multifandom distraction:



Immensely entertaining chat between Vanessa Redgrave and Miriam Margolyes

Discussion about RTD's new series It's A Sin among survivors of the AIDS outbreak in the 1980s

And if you're a frustrated traveller (like me), here are a few 3 D virtual exploring of beautiful places links:

One of the most beautiful libraries we had, the Anna-Amalia-Bibliothek in Weimar, before it burned: here


The Bayreuth Opera House, no, not the Wagner one, the Rococo extravaganza built by Wilhelmine, Frederick the Great's favourite sister


Virtual visiting of Sanssouci, because of course

And lastly, I know I said the place is better from the outside than from the inside, but if we're talking buildlings by excentric gay monarchs, he and it have to be there:

Neuschwanstein in 3 D glory

And just in case there are some unexplored angles, have another virtual tour through Ludwig II's fairy tale castle in its camp glory here
selenak: (Donna Noble by Cheesygirl)
I was alerted to this newest RTD (mini)series by this review, and also this one, both of which are very favourable indeed. Having watched it now: deservedly so. RTD seems to be on a winning streak, between last year’s A Very English Scandal, and now this, a series set basically five minutes into the future. (Not literally: it starts in 2019 and then follows its characters through fifteen years.) It’s also one of the most political things he’s ever done, while playing to his old strengths and interests – to wit, family dynamics. (Both blood and adopted/chosen families.) (And specifically adult families. Leaving all other differences aside, I always thought it interesting that if Stephen Moffat tackles families, it’s usually via presenting children – as children – whereas Russell T. Davies goes for grown up children interacting with their parents and siblings. The one time I felt the Moff was consciously trying to write a Davies-style dynamic was with Bill and her adopted mother/guardian, and that quickly fell at the wayside because it just wasn’t where his natural writerly interest lay. (This is not meant as a criticism, btw. I loved Bill’s season.) Meanwhile, I don’t think Rusty ever managed a kid like little Amelia Pond – it’s telling that in Torchwood: Children of Earth, little Steven is basically a lamb, whereas the narrative focus and layeredness is with his mother Alice (i.e. an adult) and her complicated emotions about her father Jack.

The Lyons clan in Years and Years consists of grandmother (and great grandmother) Muriel, played by Anne Reid, adult siblings Stephen (Rory Kinnear, first time I’ve seen him since Penny Dreadful), Edith (Jessica Hynes), Daniel (Russell Tovey) and Rosie (Ruth Madeley) as well as their spouses and children. (Again, the fleshed out ones of the children are the ones who start out as teenagers and are adults by the time the series ends, whereas the babies/little kids are just sort of there.) They live in Manchester and experience both country and world going ever more beserk as they try to make it through the years. What’s fascinating to me is that if you compare it with two previous RTD penned (or largely invented) dystopia scenarios – both CoE and Torchwood: Miracle Day qualify, and you might as well throw the DW episode Turn Left in as well, this one, which is far more grounded in reality (with speculation on developments that feel frighteningly plausible to me), actually ends up more optimistically than either. If you’ve watched CoE or MD, you can’t help but feel that by and large, humankind is a pretty rotten species. Otoh, Years and Years ends up concluding that we might have screwed up mightily but there’s hope for us yet, and not just for individual members.

It’s also the first Davies take on a „democratic society turns authoritarian“ scenario that doesn’t use the old trappings of fascism (complete with Nazi red and black colour coding) but instead very much tackles the present day crop. His take on a populist leader, Viv(ienne) Rook, played by Emma Thompson, isn’t really ideologically driven, she’s a hollow collection of useful soundbites, taken for authentic and telling-it-as-it-is because she’s verbally outrageous, underestimated even by her opponents because she’s funny, which is yet another way she wins over crowds. (Sidenote: the old idea that humor and totalitarianism are mutually exclusive, i.e. that humor is by its nature subversive and thus ideal to fight power, is something that fell to the wayside during the rise of the far right in the last decades due to rl examples, but this is one of the first fictional takes which really focus on how humor can be used by the future totalitarians to not just bolster their appeal but trivialize any objections.) Muriel in the last episode sums this up as „the age of clowns and monsters“; another key difference to earlier takes on „main characters experience dystopia“ by Davies is that our heroes are by no means immune. Two members of the Lyons clan actively vote for Viv Rook, and even Edith the social activist (who doesn’t vote for her or anyone else, symbolizing those voters striking through their voting sheets in disgust) early on applauds her for „smashing the system“, after which a revolution will surely come (hello, Susan Sarandon). Even the adult Lyons who don’t vote for her think she’s funny and entertaining, except for Dan, who realises her monstrisity beneath the funny, charming veneer not least because he’s a council worker, and also in love with an Ukrainian refugee directly threatened by what qualifies for Rook’s policies.

(Incidentally, Ukraine being annexed by Russia, Russia’s laws making homosexuality illegal again and Victor’s odyssey through an increasingly closed off Europe are among those futuristic scenarios that I found frighteningly real/familiar, from the get go, as when Victor’s still in England and whether or not his being gay qualifies as a reason for asylum, and whether he’s gay enough is under debate. Cue me flashing to various newspaper reports, mostly from Austria, where asylum seekers really were dismissed for not being gay enough in the judge’s eyes to qualify as threatened.)

That fascism is just something that happens to other people and our heroes would never fall for anyone like that, even if the society around them does, is something inherent in most British and American media, so Davies depicting some of the Lyons going for Viv Rook’s „smash the system, fuck yeah!“ appeal (ignoring that as a rich businesswoman she is the system) feels like the most informed by 2016 onwards element about this show. As do things like Daniel’s husband Ralph, whom he’ll later leave for Victor, starting to repeat various theories previously seen as conspiracy theories on the darknet but now mainstream – Dan’s „what the hell happened to you?“ reaction is one I can identify with, having experienced this with various people in my life by now (though thankfully not a spouse).

At the same time, none of this would work for me if I hadn’t come to care for the characters, flawed as they are. They can be dislikable at times (and that’s before one of them does something truly horrifying in the last but one episode), but they’re never less than human. The way the siblings can take the piss out of each other while also being there for each other, how Muriel and Stephen’s wife Celeste start out in low key mutual resentment and end up becoming incredibly close long past the end of the Stephen/Celeste marriage, or how the aftermath of their father’s death is handled (none of them has been in contact with him for years and they don’t know his second family, including their half brother, very well, so the funeral is this awkward affair full of both pain and black humor) – it all makes them incredibly real to me. I didn’t binge watch it but saw one episode per day because, like I said, a great many of the developments feel scarily plausible to me, but I’m really glad I watched it, and look forward to whatever RTD does next.
selenak: (The Americans by Tinny)
Which isn't the same as a list of personal favourite episodes - slightly different category - , and of course limited to media I actually watched, so if your own pick for "great episode of 2018" isn't in it, it might be simply for this reason. Also, there's no particular order of quality among the episodes themselves.



The other days


Star Trek: Discovery: Despite Yourself: this kicked off the second half of Discovery's first season and had the daunting task of reintroducing the Mirrorverse to Star Trek in a way that on the one hand kept the parts beloved by fandom (opportunity for the regular cast to play evil selves, sexy costumes, aura of menace) while not falling into what the last DS9 Mirrorverse episodes had become, i.e. a camp costume party without any emotional stakes on either the audience's or the characters' parts. The episode managed this was aplomp, and then some. Despite Yourself and the following episodes were the first Mirrorverse tales since Kira originally met the Intendant in Crossover which actually used the concept to explore something about our regular characters that's meant to be disturbing to them, both on a Doylist and Watsonian level. It took the fascist universe concept seriously while still delivering on the "regular actors enjoying themselves" front (standout in this episode: Tilly!). It didn't waste time by making the characters wonder endlessly where they were when the audience knew this already while still providing in-universe explanation as to why they realised this so quickly. The costumes - for the first time in ST history created by a female, not a male costume maker - managed to be sexy while still being believable and functional for a military dictatorship. It was both connnected to the season's themes - who are we, who could we become, who do we choose to be? - and a good episode in itself. The one downside was the spoilery event that's still one of the downsides of the first season in general, but even so: I do regard this as one of the greats of 2018.


Better Call Saul: Winner: The season 4 finale, which in the way it delivers on one of the show's central premises both awes and kicks you in the gut. Character development that's been building up through four seasons comes to a key point, the opening flashback is both a brilliant preparation for the final scene and a layered look at a central relationship, and in a season where the balance between the Jimmy and the Mike storylines was often uneven, here they both come with a satisfying narrative weight and conclusion. 'Twas brilliant, both as a season finale and an episode by itself.


The Last Kingdom: Episode 6 (of the third season): in which the season takes a breath midst intrigues and fight scenes, puts its various other subplots on hold and simply focuses, for an hour, on two central characters working their way through grief for a third in a way that also examines their relationship, who they were, are and will be to each other. And I realise that one of my favourite tropes - two former friends still deeply emotionally connected but for good and solid reasons (i.e. because of their own convictions and choices, not because a villain misled them or anything like that) opposed to each other in the present - actually is used here (as opposed to the book material) in Brida and Uthred. I'm pretty fond of the show in general, but I wouldn't call it brilliant otherwise. This episode, however, is.

A Very English Scandal: Episode 3: The entire three parter, written by Russell T. Davies and directed by Stephen Frears, is great, but this last episode has to pull off the daunting task of delivering something at least a part of the audience already knows the ending of (i.e. the Jeremy Thorpe trial), and where historically, no one wins (the party in whose favour the case is decided never gets their old life back). There's also the tricky way the miniseries balances humor with very dark stuff. And we have a big ensemble, added to which is a new character of importance, Thorpe's lawyer. All those balls are kept in the air beautifully. Frears' last few movies went into a sedate direction, but this miniseries has the combination of wit and genuine anger expressed via satire from his 80s stuff. RTD, whose script manages that, also has his flaws as a scriptwriter in general, but here he displays only his skills and virtues: everyone (other than the judge, and since said judge doesn't do anything the historical original didn't do or say, infamously, this is hardly Rusty being mean) is depicted three dimensionally, the pace feels fast despite offering plenty of quiet character moments, the dialogue is razor sharp (though one outstanding scene, between Thorpe and his second wife, actually depends on silence on his part for the effect it has). Hugh Grant and Ben Wishaw are fantastisc in the central roles. It short: great episode, great conclusion to a great miniseries.


Legion: I have mixed feelings about the second season overall, but in its middle, it delivered a trio of truly great episodes between I can't decide. 2.04. is Syd's big character examination and showcase, providing David and the audience with her backstory in a very inventive - and, as always with this show, visually stylish - way. 2.06., otoh, is the big acting showcase for our leading man, as we see various versions of David through the timelines, both actual ones, might have beens and could still be's, and foreshadows/plants some of the finale's emotional motivations. (It also examines David's relationship with his sister Amy through all timelines, which is important because of what the previous episode revealed and because the audience hadn't seen Amy since the last season.) But I think I'm going with 2.05, which is more of an ensemble piece (prominent roles for Lenny, Clark, Ptonemy and David on the one hand, Oliver and Faroukh on the other), working its way up to the big, horrifying reveal at the end via three interrogation set pieces while the parallel flashbacks finally provide the audience with some (needed) information as to how Oliver feels about his "relationship" with the Shadow King and their actions.


The Americans: START (season and series finale): show finales are even trickier than season finales to do well: they have to wrap up central relationships not just of the season but of the show, have to do justice to the general themes of the series and its tone (not to be underestimated, that last -something like, say, the famous Blake's 7 finale feels just right for B7, but if it had happened in, say, Farscape, I'd have hated it, despite Farscape having plenty of darkness). START managed all of this - imo, as always -, and, as an added bonus, made a somewhat overplayed song like Within You, Without You feel fresh and perfect for the scene in question. And to the end, it trusted its actors with silences as much as with dialogue, leaving this viewer a fan happy with a rich, layered story well ended.


GLOW: Mother of all Matches: this female-centric wrestling dramedy won my not-a-wrestling-fan heart and kept it, not least by the way it manages complicated characters in its half an hour format, provides them with development and lets them take turns re: audience sympathy. She who is a jerk at one point can be a heroine at another, and vice versa. Also, minor characters from last season can get the spot light this season (and again, the reverse.) The season why this particular episode stood out for me more than, say, the later Nothing Shattered (where our two main characters have it out in a blistering scene) is that Mother of all Matches skillfully intertwines the stories of two very different characters, Tammé (this is her big episode, not just of the season but the show so far) and Debbie (on an emotional downward spiral) in a way that works and reflects on each other. There are some incredibly funny scenes (Debbie selling all her furniture to spite her husband) that still work as a metaphor for what's going on with Debbie inside, and some incredible painful ones (Tammés face when her son witnesses her character's humiliation in the ring is one of the outstanding acting moments of the entire show, and still makes me want to cry) which also make a comment about the society they're taking place in. And while it's doing all of that, the episode also includes a great show case for Ruth's quick improvisational storytelling skills at the end. In conclusion, it's a great one.


The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel: Midnight at the Concord: the mid-s2 turning point, a showcase of Midge's comedy talent, charm and egocentricity (Susie's acid comment as to Midge's rush to NY is well earned) at the same time while also providing us with some genuinely touching moments (one of them, suprisingly, between Joel and his mother - Joel's parents as opposed to Midge's more often than not come across as broadly written stereotypes, but the tenderness of the "you look nice in your coat, Ma" scene is anything but). The episode in itself includes its own mini rom com (Midge and Benjamin going from non-speaking to romantic couple within it, and yet it feels completely belieavable), and the return of a favourite, Lenny Bruce (whom the show uses just rightly, never too often, so each of his appearances are a highlight), but the true emotional climax it works towards is Midge's gig at the end which turns into an outing scene managing to be funny and painful at the same time. Incredibly well donen, Amy Sherman-Palladino.


The Haunting of Hill House: Two Storms: The first five episodes of this tv version were each focused on a different Crain sibling, both in flashbacks and present day action, introducing not just the characters and their relationships from different angles but the two time lines. The question from the pilot - "what exactly happened in the night the Crain family left Hill House, and why?" - has been gaining fragments of an answer. It won't be answered in this episode, either, and yet this is where all the emotional complexity build up in the previous episodes both in the flashback timeline and in the present day time line gets its first big pay off, as all the main characters are in the same room again and forced to interact with each other and all their pent up issues. It's an elegant Aristotelian nightmare (the three unities are kept in both timelines, but how!) of a drama, and in terms of writing, acting and visualisation to me the highlight of the season.

Doctor Who: Demons of the Punjab: I was wavering between this one and "Rosa", both well done self contained historicals with minimum sci fi content but good character moments for our regulars. Demons of the Punjab wins out for moving me that tiny bit more in how it deals with how differently the memory of the dead can be used, offers both radicalisation (Manesh) and killers actually changing (the aliens), which in a year where you had the WWI anniversary on the one hand and current day vicious nationalism winning in so many places in the world on the other felt like a very timely tale indeed. The guest stars are excellent and the cinematography is gorgeous.
selenak: (Branagh by Dear_Prudence)
Which is a three-part miniseries written by Russell T. Davies and directed by Stephen Frears, starring Hugh Grant and Ben Wishaw, received with much critical enthusiasm when it was broadcast earlier this year, and currently out on DVD in my part of the world. If you’re a Whovian: RTD also brought Murray Gold with him as a composer (mind you, the soundtrack is quite unlike Gold’s Doctor Who tracks in that it’s jaunty and music-hall like, fitting the dark Ealing comedy tone of the miniseries), and there are some of the usual suspects in minor roles (like Eve Myles as Gwen in part II). Oh, and Alex Jennings who plays the most prominent supporting role, MP Peter Bissell, seems to have become specialized as a certain type of scheming toff, between playing King Leopold in ITV’s Victoria and the Duke of Windsor in The Crown, though Peter Bissell here has a bit more conscience than either.

A Very English Scandal is based on the Jeremy Thorpe affair, which marked the first time the leader of a major British party was on trial for a conspiracy to murder. (RTD can’t resist letting one character comment that given the history of British politics, this is really saying something.) Much like current politics, a lot of the circumstances are so bizarre that they defy satire (though Peter Cooke famously did a sketch based on the judge’s unbelievably biased summing-up to the jury), like the sheer incompetence of the would-be assassin, an off duty pilot. Like I said, overall the narrative tone is one of dark comedy a la Kind Hearts and Coronets, but the miniseries also interweaves the very real tragedies going with the kind of society where a closeted gay politician tries to have his former lover killed; in part I, for example, features an appearance of Lord Arran of „there are not many badgers in the House of Lords“ fame (played by David Bamber), which starts with the comedy (all the badgers in the house) but then gives Bamber the chance to go from funny guy to heartrendering crusader in a few moments when Arran reveals the reason why sponsoring the law to decriminalize homosexuality is so important for him. Also, for all the comedy, there is an underlying anger at the (not that historical) way the old boys network in politics, police forces and parts of the media serves to protect their own to the point where they literally get away with murder.

Both Hugh Grant (as Jeremy Thorpe) and Ben Wishaw (as Norman Scott) deliver great performances. Now I had seen Grant outside his stuttering Englishman rom com persona before (early in his career as Clive in Maurice, and also later playing a heartless cad in An Awfully Big Adventure), so it didn’t surprise me he has some variety, but even so, this is easily the best performance I’ve watched him do. One of the most outstanding moments for me was a silent one on his part, which comes in the third episode, when after an old letter of his to Norman Scott has been published his wife Marian (played by Monica Dolan) points out that while everyone fixates on the nickname „bunnies“ in the letter, what struck her was the „P.S. I miss you“ and adds: „I think that is a wonderful thing to tell a friend“. Now Marian isn’t being naive here (earlier she cut Thorpe’s „so not gay!“ protests off with „I practically grew up with Benjamin Britten“, which is a great geeky „oh, please“ on the part of the script and also happens to be true), and in the scene it hits the audience at the same time it hits Thorpe what she’s signalling him here: that she understands and accepts him, that he doesn’t have to hide himself from here anymore. And in that moment, this character who otherwise is never bereft of a clever answer, whether in politics or in private, is utterly silent, you can see the professional mask slipping and melting as he absolutely has no idea how to handle this.

Ben Wishaw is equally good. The stakes are initially against his character – prone to burst into tears at any moment, throwing tantrums, messing up the one really well paying job he gets (as a model) due to his own faults -, but when, in the first episode, Thorpe tells his confidant Bissell that Norman should be easy to intimidate into silence, Bissell disagrees, pointing out that Norman Scott is able to do what neither of them dares, to live openly as a gay man in the face of all the ridicule and hate, and that he just might be more courageous than them all. By the time the third episode ends, the audience agrees, and he emerges as the hero of the tale. (Mind you, the casting poses one tiny problem; when Thorpe’s lawyer asks him in a rare moment why on earth he started a relationship with someone like Norman Scott to begin with, I was tempted to reply, well, given that he’s played by Ben Wishaw… )

In conclusion: very worth watching. I hear in the US it’s on Amazon Prime; not so in Germany, which is why I got the DVD.
selenak: (Bardolatry by Cheesygirl)
Back in my university days, I once took a class about A Midsummer Night’s Dream, which meant watching a lot of productions, both filmed and on stage. That class had the worst possible placement – Friday afternoon – during the spring-to-summer term, and when I tell you that most of the 15 participants showed up regardless, you may gather we had fun. However, with that kind of overexposure to one particular drama, it took me a while to watch A Midsummer Night’s Dream again.

It’s been long enough, I’ve found: the RTD version was eminently watchable to me, with occasional “oh, how Professor Götze would have loved this” asides. Wasn’t surprised my flist was divided, though: Russel T. is that kind of producer.

Read more... )
selenak: (Gwen by Cheesygirl)
Stephen Moffat stepping down (as of 2017) as showrunner of Doctor Who isn't that much of a surprise; he's had a long run, and while back during season 7 I felt he should have finished then, I'm really glad he didn't, because the Capaldi era felt revitalized and turned into my favourite part of his tenure.

The news that Chris Chibnall will take over, otoh, is something that leaves me with mixed emotions. A couple of years ago I would have been horrified, because I really disliked Chibnall's early Torchwood and early Doctor Who episodes. Otoh, not only did I like Torchwood's second season (which he did head), I also liked both his s2 opener, complete with old lady exclaiming "Bloody Torchwood!", and Adrift. And I really was impressed by by Broadchurch, season 1, which was all Chibnall, all the time, to give credit where due. (Otoh, Broadchurch, season 2, also all Chibnall, etc., was, err, where I quit watching, though mostly because making a story with a clear ending go on just because it had been that successful was exactly the bad idea you'd think it would be.) So basically: his DW era could be terrible, could be good, will probably be some of both.

However, one thing I can already predict: we'll get yet more rounds of "OMG this show runner so misogynist!" "But last showrunner so misogynist!" "How can you critique old/new showrunner for such and such when you liked new/old show runner's display of that and this!" "Fandom is so unfair to new showrunner while being blind to old show runner's flaws!" "Are you kidding? During old showrunner's tenure, the wanky complaints were endless, and now you're surprised new showrunner is in for some entirely reasonable criticism?" (Seriously, the way some Moffat-only and RTD-only fans seem to think that THEIR guy got all the fannish bile while the other guy had never been given that treatment baffles me. Of course, if you ever bring that up, you only hear "but it was totally justified in the case of X! Who still didn't get nearly the amount which Y was getting!" (Oh yes he did. Just from other people. Mostly.)


(And then there will be those who have hated on the previous two and will hate on the new one with equal ferveour, because that's fandom.)

Incidentally, I do hope Chibnall will write Olivia Coleman a role in DW, because Ellie (her detective on Broadchurch) is amazing, and he's that kind of crossover producer (as evidenced by the fact Broadchurch not only had David Tennant as the other lead but Arthur "Rory" Darvill in a key supporting role, and in s2 Eve Myles in a supporting role as well. AI definitely hope for some married couples, because Chibnall is good at established couples, their arguments, and their bond. As evidenced by both the Gwen and Rhys relationship on TW and the Latimers on Broadchurch.

Meanwhile, no Twelfth Doctor in 2016 until the next Christmas Special? Now THAT'S awful news. Rusty at least gave us an Easter special, Moff, when he was in a comparable situation. Come on.
selenak: (Londo and Vir by Ruuger)
First world problems: no Good Wife or Agent Carter yet for me (come through, Itunes, come through!). Also Darth Real Life keeps me really busy these days. Still, I have had an unexpected attack of Vir (from Babylon 5) feelings. He really is one of the most endearing characters ever, and one of the few where the balance between loyalty/friendship and individual conscience works just perfectly for me. Vir's affection for Londo at no point means he accepts Londo's rationalizations for wrongness. And he doesn't just have scruples, he does something about this (as in: actively helping, see Abramo Lincolni). Conversely, he never gives up on Londo, and imo that's a big part of why many a viewer doesn't, either. And lastly, the fact that it's Vir who makes Londo finally turn around and face himself/his deeds/G'Kar in The Very Long Night of Londo Mollari is possibly my favourite part in my favourite dream episode: "I'd miss you." "And I suppose I would miss you", and he turns around; still one of my favourite examples of two characters saying "I love you" without using these words.

In another fandom entirely: Neat article by Russell T. Davies and Aidan Gillen on the creation of QUEER AS FOLK.
selenak: (Sternennacht - Lefaym)
With Doctor Who everywhere for the anniversary, literally on a global level, it's perhaps easy to lose sight of the fact that in 2005, when the show was relaunched, it was by no means guaranteed it would find a new audience. Especially considering the previous attempt to bring back Doctor Who - the movie of doom - had failed miserably. And the treatment the BBC had given the show during the 80s before cancelling it had been extremely shoddy. Now fandom and critics alike credit a lot of factors for the fact that the Russell T. Davies launched revival took off the way it did - the casting of Christopher Eccleston as the Ninth Doctor, the way the scripts were careful to be accessible both to people who never ever heard of Doctor Who and old time fans alike, Bilie Piper as Rose - but RTD's eventuall successor at the helm seems to be firmly convinced that one key factor that made New Who into the success it became was the fact new Companion Rose did not come on her lonesome into Doctor Who, but with her mother, and with her relationship with her mother treated as an important part of the narrative. Quoth Steven Moffat:


"Russell, with his incredible knowledge of all modern television - because as far as I can see he does nothing except watch television! - he knows exactly how to fit this show in. The creation of the Tyler family, and positioning the Doctor as the 'troublesome relative' - which is what he is, he's the worrying uncle or family friend who turns up after a long while and takes the daughter away - that is so brilliant, it's a brilliant bit of writing. (...) Russell's writing is at such a high level... there's a line in the first episode which you could lecture on, it's so brilliant. It's in a conversation between Rose and Jackie - Rose says something about getting a job at a butcher's, and Jackie says 'It will be good for you. That shop was giving you airs and graces'. And in that one line, I submit, there isn't anything you don't know about these two people, or about that life, or about that world. You know everything about limited ambition, about the relationship between the two of them, about the envy and the crushing absence of horizons. It's a phenomenal bit of writing."

(There is a passage later in the same interview that's both funny in the light of recent developments and illuminating, particularly given fandom's tendency to play out Moffat versus Davies - something the two of them never did, because as far as anyone can tell, they seem to be in a mutual admiration society, stubbornly refusing to do their respective fans the favour of feuding; Moffat gets asked how he would have handled the relaunch, if he'd been in charge of New Who from the start. Whereupon he replies: "I'd have done a certain number of things exactly the same. I would definitely have got rid of the Time Lords, that was an overdue lopping-off; I would have got rid of the posh Doctor, all that stuff. The thing that I can't put my hand on my heart and say 'I'd have done that' about was the whole Tyler family thing, which is what makes it brilliant.")

Davies himself, in the collection of emails amd memos that became the book The Writer's Tale, says after discussing an autobiographical scene from Queer as Folk (the overdose in the kitchen): "But I have to write like that. Funny, sad, all at once. That's how life is. You can have a pratfall at a funeral. You can laugh so much that you choke to death. (...) Jackie Tyler makes us laugh, but I knew that I'd uncover something sad at the heart of her. Her sadness over her absent daughter is there as early as Aliens of London, but you don't really get to see it properly until Love & Monsters. Idiots will say, 'Ah, that character is developing now' - what, like you were going to play it all in the first 30 seconds? - but that capacity was always there. It had to be. Even in Rose, when Jackie is ostensibly 'funny', telling her daughter to get a job at the butcher's, Jackie is one of the things that's holding Rose back - and that's quite dark, at it heart. 'Funny' is hiding a lot of other stuff."

Fannish sympathy for Jackie and Rose switched places, as I recall. During their first season, there were a lot of comments on Jackie being annoying. During the second season, when Rose lost a lot of sympathies, she was called an ungrateful daughter in addition to everything else, which sometimes came with the added complaint of "Rose Tyler: Class Traitor". Now back then I thought it was time for Rose to leave the show and I liked Jackie, but I never thought their relationship could be divided into black and white, one party eternally the giving and the other the taking, or in the right and in the wrong respectively. And yes, the mother-daughter relationship and the way it was used in the show was interesting to me. To stay on the Doylist level for a bit longer before getting into Watsonian arguments, have another Moff-on-Rusty/Rusty-on-Moff quote:

"Russell reckons it’s all about parenthood with me. It’s his view that every writer has one story that they go on re-telling and that being a father is mine."

(In The Writer's Tale, there is a great exchange of emails between Davies and Moffat when they realised Moffat's two Library episodes and Davies' Turn Left would be aired directly after another - this was later changed so Midnight came in between - which meant Donna would be stuck in two alternate realities in a row. So they had to make sure the two alternate lives for Donna didn't resemble each other, which was why Davies, who had originally given her a marriage and children in Turn Left, altered his script to write them out, telling Moffat who'd offered to do the same: "Ooh, no, that's brilliant. You have the kids. You've got kids! You do better kids!" )

I can see what he means, of sorts. Which got me thinking, because Davies' writing includes a lot of family relationships as well, including three key mother-daughter relationships - but one big difference is that it's not children in the sense of infants who interest him in this. Rather, it's parent-child relationships (and sibling relationships) after the children have already grown up. How adults relate to their parents (more often or not their mothers) and vice versa. This can happen in an extremely dysfunctional way (Donna and Sylvia) or in a mostly harmonious way (Martha and Francine); Rose and Jackie are solidly in between. (Not by coincidence, the moment Davies starts to write for Torchwood again - which he didn't after writing the pilot, he left the day to day helming to Chris Chibnall for the first two seasons - you get family relationships between adults suddenly front and center of the emotional narrative in Children of Earth: Jack and his daughter Alice, Ianto and his sister Rhiannon (and his brother-in-law). Scenes like Rhiannon bringing the laptop to her on the run brother and her support of him intermingled with a terse exchange about their childhood and father are very clearly from the same brain that wrote the Rose-Jackie-Mickey scene in Parting of the Ways. ) The way family can get under your skin for good or ill, the intermingling of the need to escape and the need to be close, the emotional power a family member can have to compell you to do things even though you're both adults, those are aspects that Davies' writing keeps coming back to, and he certainly put it front and center with Jackie and Rose. They love each other deeply; they're also capable of hurting each other, not deliberately, but they do. Rose with her absences and her tendency to take Jackie for granted; Jackie with the fear that the airs and graces comment betrays, the idea that Rose having a better job could mean Rose moving out of her life, so if keeping Rose means seeing Rose lose chances, so be it. There is a self centredness in them both. And yet they're also capable of so much more. Jackie ends up participating in saving the world business (and putting up with the Doctor) with great courage, and when the chips, no pun with Rose's favourite food intended, come down she helps her daughter even if that could mean losing her. For Rose, not returning to her mother through her adventures is not an option. She doesn't idealize Jackie the way she does the dead father she didn't know (until time travel strikes), but Jackie is the one she always comes back to. Her horror when eventually encountering an Alternate Universe version of Jackie who doesn't know her and hence has no love for her and disdains her is palpable. And while I have some quibbles with the way Rose's storyline ended (and then kept on not ending), what I most definitely approve of is having Jackie with her daughter in the Zeppelin world. Never mind the Doctor, I can't imagine Jackie and Rose being separated forever by alternate dimensions.

Jackie and Rose weren't the first mother and daughter relationship on Doctor Who involving a Companion to matter narratively; I think that honour belongs to Ace, who has really huge Mommy issues and then gets confronted with a baby version of her mother in Curse of Fenris. But other than in baby form, we never meet Ace's mother. She never gets a life and opinions on her own. Whereas Jackie Tyler, no matter whether you love her or find her irritating, absolutely blazes with life and very much has her own point of view on just about everything. (And starts the proud New Who tradition of mothers slapping the Doctor.) I can't imagine the Whoverse without her.
selenak: (Bardolatry by Cheesygirl)
Joss Whedon and the Much Ado About Nothing cast answer questions about the film. There are jokes (there would be with the Usual Suspects involved), but also serious discussion. I think the first time I came across the "Beatrice and Benedick had a brief fling in the past which ended badly and that's what Beatrice's cryptic line to Don Pedro refers to" was in the PR materiall for the 70s BBC production, though it's probably older, but I haven't seen a production using that theory since then, so I'm intrigued Joss goes with it. (So that you don't have to brush up your Shakespeare, here's the exchange that caused said theory:


DON PEDRO
(to BEATRICE) Lady, you have lost Signior Benedick’s heart.


BEATRICE
It’s true, my lord. He lent it to me once, and I paid him back with interest: a double heart for his single one. Really, he won it from me once before in a dishonest game of dice. So I suppose your grace can truly say that I have lost it.



Also, good point about Margaret and Borraccio.

*****

The Long Game is probably my least favourite episode of the first New Who season. (It's also my evidence a when people assume that if Christopher Ecclestone had agreed to more than one season, the Nine/Rose relationship would have developed differently - read: less cliquey - than the Ten/Rose did. Leaving aside the obvious Doylist rejoinder about the same writers involved either way, my Watsonian would be: Oh no, it wouldn't have, see: The Long Game.) However, I found this essay about it absolutely fascinating. Both for the background info - I didn't know it was based on a script the young RTD had presented in the 1980s to Andrew Cartmel! This means it was originally a story featuring the Seventh Doctor and Ace! - and for the analysis, which manages that incredible rarity in current DW fandom:

1) It's critical without ever devolving into attack and hyperbole.

2) It analyzes an RTD era (and RTD written) episode without even once mentioning Stephen Moffat, either in a positive manner ( a la "....but how much better the Moff did such and such") or in a negative manner (a la "...since then, we have experienced the likes of Moffat misdeed #11333"). Since the complete inability of a great many fans to talk about one era/writer without slamming the other is something that regularly drives me crazy, I value and appreciate it all the more.

3.) It does something I've otherwise only seen [personal profile] zahrawithaz do in Merlin fandom: take a weaker episode and analyze what works and what doesn't in a way that also analyzes larger narratives of which this particular episode is a part of.

In conclusion, very much worth reading.
selenak: (Elizabeth - shadows in shadows by Poison)
These last few days I was in Bamberg, pacifying Darth Real Life, and therefore rarely online. I did see both the bad news - Robin Sachs dead (though I first saw him in various minor roles in Babylon 5, it was of course as Ethan Rayne in BTVS that I think of him most; followed by the gloriously over the top evil Warlord Sarris in Galaxy Quest) - and the good (well, for geeky history interested people like yours truly) - the confirmation that those bones in Leicester were indeed those of Richard III. (Though like [personal profile] kalypso, I think he should be buried in York.)

Since the [profile] rarewomen ficathon is in its nomination phase, I went and nominated the various ladies from the House of York, hoping for revived interest by the findings. (I really hope someone will do something with Richard's sister Margaret, who had a far better ending than her brothers (whom she loved dearly) - she successfully governed her duchy of Burgundy for her stepdaughter after her husband, the not for nothing thus nicknamed Charles the Rash kicked it, offered a haven for surviving Yorkist loyalists and occasionally made Henry Tudor's life miserable by financing revolts against him. Also she died peacefully in bed.) If you want to do some nominations of your own (which isn't a sign-up for the ficathon itself, so don't worry about that), you can do so here and check the already approved characters here. Incidentally, I also nominated my beloved Agent Abigail Brand from the Marvelverse, comics edition, only to be told someone had already nominated her for Earth's Mightiest Heroes, the tv show. Abigail Brand is in Earth's Mightiest Heroes and nobody told me?



***

In other news: I've started to read a highly interesting Doctor Who blog, currently covering the "Wilderness" years, i.e. the time between the show's cancellation in the 80s and its 2005 revival. Among other things, there is a fascinating entry on the feud between Lawrence Miles and Paul Cornell (New Whovians, the later would be the writer of "Father's Day" and "Human Nature/The Family of Blood"), which might be useful to get back to next time someone reminisces of the good old days when fans were more civil to each other. (Well, Cornell was civil. Miles... isn't nicknamed Mad Larry for nothing.) On the brighter side, there is also a fascinating analysis of Queer As Folk (Russel T. Davies' original series from 1999, that is, not the American version), which reminded me of something, because it sums up Our Former Welsh Overlord in totem: Perhaps the funniest and best scene in the entire series is the cut between some strikingly explicit gay sex and Vince watching the end of Episode One of The Pyramids of Mars and rewinding it to quote along with “I bring Sutekh’s gift of death to all humanity.” As if they’re comparable actions. Because, of course, they are. Oh, RTD.
selenak: (M and Bond)
I am very pleased Judi Dench just got nominated for a BAFTA for her work as M in Skyfall, though confused about the category, because what do you mean, "supporting"? Clearly M was the leading female. :)

In other news, I was all set on writing a parable on how utterly annoying it is that you can't have an internet conversation about anything Stephen Moffat has ever written, the good, the bad, the mixed, without either of two things happening, though usually both: (a) an RTD swipe (this independent of whether or not the comment on a Moffatian oeuvre has anything to do with Doctor Who; I swear, even if the topic should be a school essay the Moff wrote at age 14 on the topic of Scottish independence, someone will interject "oh, this reminds me that Russell T. Davies discriminated against all Scots by making David Tennant talk Mockney instead of letting him use his own accent") and/or (b) someone bringing up the infamous 2002 or thereabouts Moffat interview of all-women-want-to-marry fame which which has dodged him ever since. (Cue the usual "Moffat sexist"/ "Rusty even more sexist"/ "Moffat the evilest"/ "No, RTD the most vile" blabhahblah.) However, my attempts at thinly disguised metaphor employing a tale of apples and oranges and how nice it would be if once, just once, we could discuss apple juice without a snide "oh, BUT THERE WAS THAT TIME WHEN ORANGE JUICE RUINED MY TROUSERS" aside were interrupted and completely abandoned by discovering an absolutely charming Moffat interview. The key to the charm lies in the fact he's being interviewed by his son, who is reading questions to him which fans have send to the son's YouTube channel. As Moffat Junior is an adorable kid (and newly converted Star Trek fan!), this cunning strategy means the practice of the above mentioned tiresome exchange is utterly absent from the questions. Also the Moff gets to be an Old Who fanboy, discuss whether or not the Doctor is a fundamentally happier person than Sherlock Holmes, out himself as a bad conjuror of magic tricks and be generally a good dad. Now if you've followed my ramblings for a while, you know I am anything but uncritical towards Mr. M., but I confess myself charmed nonetheless. Have a gander:


Ugh

Sep. 12th, 2012 09:16 am
selenak: (Judgment Day by Rolina_Gate)
I hate bullies. Internet bullies who believe they're propagating "social justice" while doing their bullying are a particularly revolting suspecies. God knows I have my own criticisms of Moffat's writings, but death threats? With an added low of also going after twelve-years Caitlin Blackwood, who plays young Amelia Pond? What she said.

Not that this is new. I'm reminded of the internet back in Children of Earth, Day 4 and after time, when it were RTD and James Moran, but then Rusty wasn't on Twitter. Or going back to the Buffy days, those charmers who wished miscarriage on Marti Noxon when she was pregnant because they hated seasons 6 and 7 of BTVS.

Fandom can be fantastic to be in, but every now and then it makes you recall that "fan" comes from "fanatic", and not in a good way.
selenak: (Brian 1963 by Naraht)
I blame [personal profile] naraht and some other people for this, I'll have you know. Also, the following is written with affection for all parties involved, so kindly avoid bashing any of the showrunners in question in your comments. (Making fun of same, otoh, is part of the purpose of this little exercise.)

So, recent conversations with [personal profile] naraht caused me me to wonder how various tv writers would handle biopics dealing with anyone from the i>Beatles and their circle - whom they'd pick, how they'd narrate the subject, what they would emphasize, and so forth. Here are my highly scientific conclusions.

1.) Russel T. Davies: writes the long overdue Brian Epstein biopic. In which there's unrequited and/or uneven m/m love several times over (Brian loves John Lennon more than John loves him, but on the other hand, Peter Brown loves Brian far more than Brian loves him), and various intense sex scenes, but the emotional core relationship is the platonic one between Brian Epstein and singer Alma Cogan. (Who also has a brief fling with John Lennon.) This causes part of the fandom to accuse RTD of selling out to the heteronormative majority and being a secret self loathing homophobe while also being a character torturing sadist, and that's before Brian actually dies in the third episode of the miniseries. To everyone's surprise, the breakout 'ship of the miniseries is neither Brian/John nor Brian/Alma, though both have their followers, but Brian/Peter.

2.) Stephen Moffat: writes The Ballad of Yoko and John, also a three parter, centered around Yoko Ono, narrated in a non-linear flashion with flashbacks and flash forwards. At first, there is much delight at his depiction of Yoko Ono as a strong, morally ambiguous (i.e. neither saint nor demon) and charismatic woman not taking crap from anyone (though this also causes hostility and accusations of smugness in another part of the fandom), but later on part of the initial hooray fades as accusations are raised that Yoko is just too obsessed with John and seems to have no life unrelated to him. Also, the fact that the subplot about the abduction of Yoko's daughter Kyoko by her second husband after a strong start has no emotional follow up whatsoever until Kyoko shows up again in the last flash forward after John's death comes in for strong criticism while the May Pang subplot (i.e. Yoko setting her up as a sexual babysitter John's mistress, then getting rid of her again) gets Moffat accused of vile sexism and the ruination of a strong female character.

3.) Joss Whedon: tackles the Beatles themselves. At first, there is much delight in fandom as it seems a perfect match - the one liners and quips fly, so do the puns, the somewhat dysfunctional family is formed, and as opposed to every other pic, this one actually uses the songs to convey something characterisation relevant. Then as relationships between our gang turn increasingly messed up, alienated and sour while romances end in tears and lovable sidekicks like Mal Evans are killed off, fandom concludes Joss is up to his old tricks. The man just can't stand permanent happiness, I tell you. The death of Brian Epstein in rude service of the plot to drive the Beatles apart loses him part of his following in the gay comunity, and the way he acts out his parent issues by not allowing anyone a complete set of nice parents (other than George, and his hardly show up!), even adding evil authority figures like manager Allen Klein (totally stereotype!) is seen as typical Whedonism.

4.) Ronald D. Moore: Ron Moore laughs at biopics or bio-miniseries and goes for a re-imagining of Yellow Submarine as a gritty war story tv series instead. The Blue Meanies are there. And they have a plan. As well as plenty of sex with Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band while torching Pepperland. At first, this is greeted with much applause especially among people who considered the original film as way too cloying and cheesy, but they turn against Ron when it's increasingly obvious that the Walrus is behind everything and the Head!Eggmen are real.

Feel free to add your opinion on other showrunners and their Beatles related unfilmed oeuvres.
selenak: (Ten and Donna by Trolliepop)
I have no idea how long this will be allowed to remain online, but EVERYONE MUST WATCH IT: The Ballad of Russell and Julie, aka John Barrowman, Catherine Tate and David Tennant summing up the RTD era of Doctor Who in song as a wrap up present for Rusty and producer Julie Gardner:



(Worth for DT's Russell impression alone, but there are so many other great things about this. My love for all parties concerned is overflowing right now.)

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