torsdag 7 mars 2024

Villain clichés I'm sick to death of

The other week, during a walk, I came up with (well, when I say "came up" I mean nicked from Nostalgia Critic on YouTube) two possible blog topics which didn't seem all that demanding: the pop-cultural clichés I'm really tired of and, as a companion piece, the clichés I can't get enough of. Now that it's time to start on the first post, though, I'm wondering if the topic is as undemanding as all that. Maybe if I limit it to merely villain clichés? I can rant about the overused "peaceful village and grizzled veterans face and defeat a large hostile force" plot some other time.

Generic evil tyrant vs generic good rebels A bit of a cheat, this, as I'm as fed up with the good rebels as with the evil tyrant. The Swedes have a word meaning the "romance of revolution" which tends to be in play when rebels pop up in fiction (and not just popular fiction, either: looking at you, Victor Hugo).

But let's focus on the evil tyrant, and why I'm heartily sick of this villain cliché. There's a hint of political didacticism about the whole setup (now, children, you're never going to support tyranny, are you?), but for once, preachiness is not what bothers me the most. Ironically, I suspect that the reason so many fictional despots are dull is that the authors didn't want to get too political. The plot of a thousand and one fantasy and sci-fi adventures, where the hero falls in with a plucky band of rebels in order to fight against an oppressive regime and ends up saving the day, hinges on the audience whole-heartedly embracing the hero's cause. In which case, it's risky getting too specific about the nature of the regime's evils. One person's dystopia can sound pretty OK to someone else.

But we all hate oppression, right? No matter how your dream society would play out in real life, you want the opportunity to pick your poison. So the generic evil tyrant does a lot of harassing of the populace, to very little purpose. He – or she – has a purposefully vague agenda of getting and sticking to power, without any clear idea of what to do with it except be aggravatingly vile. I can hardly believe I'm saying this, but I almost wish that fantasy writers would risk getting just a little political at times when explaining the villain's motives. At least a pinch of misguided idealism would add some interest to the character.

Generic evil tyrants seldom have much of a private life, either; meaningful personal relationships are thin on the ground. They are more an idea to be fought against than a character in their own right. I'm not saying all fictional tyrants are wash-outs – I have a soft spot for Palpatine – but it's time to add some zest to the tired old fantasy formula. Why not reverse it once in a while? Good ruler vs evil rebels? You can argue the Harry Potter franchise comes close.

Human bigot vigilantes The Watchdogs in Agents of Shield. The Quarrymen in Gargoyles (yes, I spend more time watching cartoons than an adult strictly should, but hey, Puck is in this one!). Friends of Humanity in X-Men, The Animated Series (necessary Marvel preparation, I swear). Whenever bigoted vigilantes show up as occasional villains in a series, my heart sinks. Because they are just so boring

This type of villain group shows up exclusively in stories which want to tell us something about Fighting Prejudice, and I already have problems with many of these earnest parables. At least the mutants in X-Men and the Inhumans in Agents of Shield (mutants in all but name) are part of the human race, and are thus a better stand-in for various minorities than, say, bears or clones made of gloop or alien shrimp. But the people who are freaked out by them aren't given any reasons for their wrong-headed behaviour, which means that the good guys have no opportunity to come with intelligent counter-arguments. Instead, we get a number of variations on the "you are a monster" theme (from the bigots).   

You'd think that the whole point of using a parable would be to address sensitive themes a little more freely, but script writers clearly draw the line at giving bigots of any kind anything interesting to say. I'm left preferring even the most annoying supervillain (hello Apocalypse) as threat of the week to these unshaved dunderheads.

Faux Nazis Last seen in Rebel Moon, Part One on Netflix which contains many clichés that irritate me, as well as some I rather like. The troops of the generic tyrant are sporting uniforms in a style which one could label Evil Dictator Chic and which, like Moff Tarkin's riding breeches and General Hux's ranting in Star Wars, are clearly meant to make us think of Nazis.

Why would you want to saddle your baddies with such a parallel? Why not let them be villainous in their own way? If it's an attempt to make sure everyone understands just how evil they are, it's lazy shorthand and it doesn't work.

Grand Moff Tarkin blew up Alderaan. That's pretty horrible, and hard to excuse even someone with lovely cheekbones. But his crimes are firmly situated in a fictional galaxy far far away. Not ours.

onsdag 21 februari 2024

So, this is urban fantasy... hm.

Neil Gaiman is an author I've always felt ought to be right up my alley. A writer revered by geeks, with a sense of humour, who's written for Doctor Who – what's not to like? What's more, I'm a fan of his Who contributions. That is, "The Doctor's Wife" is a great deal better than "Nightmare in Silver", which (I agree with everyone else here) got the Cybermen wrong. Nevertheless, the latter episode has highlights too, such as an atmospheric setting, a surprisingly loyal punishment platoon and the character Porridge, whose story of how a whole galaxy was blown up just to halt the Cybermen's invasion has stuck in my mind: all those lives lost, and the person he pities most is the poor blighter who had to push the button.

Maybe, though, my appreciation of the great Gaiman has been marred by the expectation that he should be right up my alley. When a TV series he's involved in doesn't hook me right away, I'm more disappointed than if the same script had been written by some random, unknown fantasy writer. Consequently, I make fewer allowances, and give up more easily, maybe a bit too easily. I haven't seen more than two episodes of Good Omens, though I'm continually telling myself I will watch the rest some day. As for The Sandman, I gave up after four episodes and will probably not watch the rest as, unlike Good Omens, it was Very Serious throughout (also, the Sandman himself is annoying). In both TV series, Gaiman mines Christian lore with an insouciance that makes me fidget – especially when things get brimstone-related – and (a related source of discomfort, this), he can go very dark at times.

My track record with Gaiman's books is better. I read and enjoyed his Norse Mythology (why "Norse" though, this Swede has to ask?), which actually taught me a lot, and me a Scandinavian. And now, lately, I've read Neverwhere, which is where the urban fantasy comes in. I did get properly into it, eventually. But it took a while.

Now, don't get me wrong. Getting through the first part of the novel was not a hardship. Gaiman is a very good writer, and as a reader you feel you're in safe hands. His sense of humour shines through, even when things are serious; thankfully, there's none of the dourness of The Sandman about Neverwhere. Nevertheless, through a large part of the book I felt more attracted to the idea of a secret realm hidden under the streets of London than Gaiman's description of it.

The hero of the novel, Richard Mayhew, has his world turned upside down when he helps an injured girl called Door (to all appearances a down-and-out) and misses an important dinner with his fiancée and her boss in the process. His fiancée dumps him, but that is the least of his problems. Suddenly, without knowing why, he loses his foothold on reality, and he realises he has to find Door again if he is to have any chance of getting his life back. With a bit of luck, he manages to make his way into London Below – where Door comes from –, locate her and join her and her small band of associates in a quest to find out who killed her family.

Sounds exciting, right? Especially as in London Below, many London landmarks and underground stations have a more literal meaning, which is fun not only for Londoners but for enthusiastic London tourists like me. There is, for instance, a real Earl's Court, and an order of Black Friars plays an important part in the proceedings. The problem for me is that London Below, though a place of adventure, is also decidedly down-at-heel. Its inhabitants may be familiar with strange and magical things, but square meals and nice clothes are in short supply.

In Gaiman's Introduction, he talks about two goals he had with Neverwhere. He wanted "to write a book that would do for adults what the books I had loved when younger, books like Alice in Wonderland, or the Narnia books, or The Wizard of Oz, did for me as a kid." But he also wanted to "talk about the people who fall through the cracks". Now, it's a bit tricky to pull off both these goals at once. There's a limit to how Narnia-like a magic realm that's also a metaphor for homelessness can get. 

For the first half of the book, I actually thought that Gaiman managed his worthy talking-about-the dispossessed-goal better than the getting-away-to-a-magic-land goal. The description of how Richard helplessly watches as his old life disintegrates, while nobody pays any attention to him, was a clever way of showing what slipping through the cracks might feel like. But as for the magic wardrobe feeling, classic fantasy realms like Wonderland and Narnia – though filled with their own problems and danger – are actually places you would like to visit (albeit perhaps not for long). They are also distinctly separate from the everyday. I couldn't help thinking of the Epic Rap Battle on YouTube between George R.R. Martin and J.R.R. Tolkien where the latter points out: "News flash: the genre's called fantasy. It's meant to be unrealistic, you myopic manatee!"

For all that, Gaiman's style is captivating, his characters are colourful and the world building is impressive; it's amazing it was all done for a single book (and a TV series, admittedly). I was sufficiently swept away by the story to savour the "what?! Nooo" moments, and by the end I wanted Richard to stay put with Door. Mind you, more because I shipped them than because I suddenly found London Below entrancing. If urban fantasy is always this gritty, I might be better off sticking to the fairy-tale-based kind, for the most part at least. Mind you, if there's ever a sequel to Neverwhere, I'll read it.

onsdag 7 februari 2024

Finally, the final season of The Crown

It's shocking, I know, but I won't particularly miss The Crown. Even its best seasons (by common consent seasons one and two) didn't capture me as much as one could have expected, seeing that it's a historical drama stuffed to the gills with British quality actors. 

It's arguable whether the series has steadily declined, or whether it went through its roughest patch round about season four. I admit that the two last seasons have felt a little half-hearted, as if Peter Morgan was losing interest in the whole enterprise. On the other hand, I have personally appreciated the mellower tone towards the British Royal family compared to the disdain bordering on cold dislike shown during parts of the Olivia Colman seasons.

The gentle tone was the greatest positive for me in season six (that and the always stellar acting). It felt as if Morgan had decided, all of a sudden, that he had been too mean to everyone, and wanted to make amends. Imelda Staunton's Queen continues to be more likeable than Colman's, if perhaps a little dull. Princess Diana, who was depicted as a nervy and egocentric attention-seeker in season five, suddenly gains counsellor-like wisdom in her final episodes as she gives a sweet-natured Dodi good(ish) advice on how to stand up to his father. Morgan appears to have had a bit of a soft spot for Camilla throughout, and in season six he frankly ships her and Charles. Prince Philip, whose supposed failings as a father have played an important part during previous seasons, gets a chance to redeem himself by touchingly if implausibly brokering a peace between Charles and the bereaved William.

I also liked that the relationship between the Queen and Princess Margaret, which has been given a lot of screen time throughout the series, is permitted to end on a loving note. The episode where Margaret dies is actually the only one that made me tear up a bit. No more unnecessary recriminations over long-ago love affairs, thankfully. The season ends in a pretty dignified way, too, and the episode title "Sleep, Dearie, Sleep" brought a grin to the face of a Dearie (as in Rumple-loving Once Upon a Time fan) like myself. It's not supposed to, as it's named after a funeral dirge, but one takes one's pleasures where one can.

All in all, however, this season had considerable weaknesses. For one thing, it felt uncomfortably intrusive. For pity's sake, I don't have to be there during the whole last phone call between Princess Diana and her boys, or when their father tells them of her death (even if the sound was drowned out during the latter scene). I don't have to see Margaret's scalding of her feet during a stroke, or her painful rehabilitation efforts, in such detail. I don't have to stand vigil with the Queen at her mother's deathbed for what feels like real time. 

Oddly enough, this intrusiveness could be an effect of Morgan trying to show due respect for tragedies that actually happened. I caught myself thinking, in the first of two episodes dealing with the time just after Diana's death, "Why can't they just show 'six months later' or something?". In a wholly fictional drama like Downton Abbey, there probably would have been a "six months later", but Morgan may have wanted to give a real-life tragedy its due weight by dwelling on it a lot. It's not entirely successful; instead, it highlights the problems of "Downton-ising" real-life dramas from not so long ago at all.

For my part, I didn't mind the controversial "ghost" scenes where first Charles and then the Queen have a talk with the already-dead Diana, and the corresponding scene between Mohamed Al-Fayed and his dead son. To me, it was clear that there were no actual ghosts, and that the three characters were simply working through their grief and uncertainties by having an imaginary conversation – much as the Queen talks with her younger selves in "Sleep, Dearie, Sleep". To me, the sheer drawing-out of every event before and after the fatal car crash felt in more questionable taste.

Then there was the tedium of the two William episodes. Another thing I really don't need to see is Charles munching muesli while trying to make conversation with a glowering William. Man, that episode was boring. I had high hopes that the romance between William and Kate would add some well-needed fun, but even that managed to be dull, as it consisted mainly of William staring longingly after Kate.

But then, I've always had problem with The Crown's slow pace. I think it's because of all the silences. I'm not really one for a lot of action scenes; mostly, I sit through action films hoping for the car chases to end and the "talky bits" with zingy dialogue to begin. But there has to be talk. I can only take so many scenes of Royals staring silently into the middle distance. Just... do something. Say something.

This under-appreciation of dramatic pauses and silences has made me less appreciative of The Crown than I could have been and maybe should have been. Anyway, it's over now. What next for Peter Morgan, I wonder? I'm half hoping for Mohamed Al-Fayed, the Movie, naturally with Salim Daw in the leading role. He can even make dramatic silences work.

onsdag 24 januari 2024

The Gilded Age season two: prediction follow-up

Just to be clear, the only reason I didn't include The Gilded Age season three in things to look forward to in 2024 is that I can't imagine it'll air that early. From what I know, the third season hasn't even been shot yet. When it comes, I will watch it avidly, as I still very much enjoy this series, even though I have notes.

But first of all it's time to follow up my predictions for season two. This could potentially be a short post as the large majority of my predictions were, simply put, incorrect. However, I'll try to use the opportunity to give some further reflections on this season, apart from the ones I've already mentioned in my mid-season report.

Mrs Chamberlain's son makes an appearance: NO. Honestly, where was Mrs Chamberlain this season? I was sure that Marian's kindness towards her in season one would stand her in good stead, and that Mrs Chamberlain would keep on playing a part as a useful Marian ally. But Mrs Chamberlain didn't make an appearance at all, even less her son. The only thing I got right here was that a "not obviously Mr Wrong" character was introduced, in order to delay the pairing up of Marian and Larry. It just wasn't Mr Chamberlain Jr.

Speaking of Marian and Larry, when they finally start taking a romantic interest in each other, it feels like it's coming out of the blue. One minute, Marian is firmly friend-zoning him, the next they are kissing, and publicly too. Well. At least it will finally lead to more entanglements between the Russell and the van Rhijn households.

Mr Russell does Marian a good turn: NOPE. I don't think they even spoke. As I touched on in the previous paragraph, my ongoing complaint about this series is that there's so little interaction between its protagonist families. The Russells are caught up in their dramas, the van Rhijns/Brookes in theirs. Mr Russell rebuffing Oscar's proposal to Gladys was one of the few instances where a storyline involved both families, and it didn't have any major effect on relations between the neighbours. Agnes, for instance, wasn't miffed that her son had been shown the door as the fortune hunter he was. But then, she is unaware of his intrigues half of the time.

Maybe season three will finally be the one where Marian "infiltrates" the Russell household? Or was the initial description of the series as plain wrong as most of my predictions?

An English Lord for Gladys? YES! Finally I got something right, as Bertha seems ready to pimp her unfortunate daughter to an English duke, forebodingly titled the Duke of Buckingham. Poor Gladys really has no luck. She was just getting interested in another young man, previously introduced to her by her mother as an acceptable match. On the other hand, there's nothing obviously wrong with Buckingham, other than that he's most likely skint.

The conflict between mother and daughter will be fun to see as Mr Russell, in a moment of weakness, promised to back his daughter up if she ever found a man she truly loved. By this time, I feel I need some exposition or flashbacks which explain George Russell's attachment to family values and devotion for his wife, which sometimes borders on weakness. He ends up apologising for being hit on by Bertha's former lady's maid, although he turned her advances down. Anyway, if he wants to keep his promise to his daughter, he'd better man up now.

Bertha Russell and Agnes van Rhijn team up: FORGET IT. I really thought that the main conflict of the series, or one of them at least, would be between Bertha and Agnes. But no. Bertha has too much on her plate antagonising Mrs Astor, and Agnes doesn't deign to show much interest, even of the hostile kind, for the nouveau riche Russells. And as, in this case, there has to be a feud before there can be a team-up, I'd say we're in for a long wait before these hard-as-steel broads join forces.

We learn more about Peggy's ex: NO. I'll have to rewatch season one, haven't I? Because it's still unclear to me what exactly happened to Peggy's ex. He seems to be dead, anyhow. With their poor little son killed off, it doesn't seem likely that Peggy's past will be brought up much in future. Though the man who adopted Peggy's son, and who lost his wife in the same disease as the one that took the boy, was really nice, wasn't he? Perhaps he'll find a reason to re-enter Peggy's life?

Battle of the butlers: YES (kind of). I'm counting this one as a win, although Bannister's attempt at retaliation against Church was swiftly regretted and nipped in the bud by Bannister himself. Hostilities now seem to be permanently suspended. Is this the beginning of a beautiful butler friendship? One can only hope.

For all my grumbling, I think I'd rank season two of The Gilded Age above season one. The pace picked up in the later episodes and the dramatic and emotional moments were nicely handled. Nevertheless, all the drama tends to end up in things staying more or less the way there are. I'm hoping that season three will risk more definite changes of the status quo.    

onsdag 10 januari 2024

Things to (cautiously) look forward to in 2024

I admit, there are few announcements of 2024 projects in the cultural consumption line that I'm unequivocally excited about. Somehow, I don't think we'll get any great adaptations of Victorian classics this year, and a new Downton doesn't seem to be on the cards either – though there is some hope for original costume dramas on a smaller scale. It seems to be a relatively meagre year for geekdom as well. There's only one Marvel movie slated for 2024 (Deadpool 3 – as I've not watched the previous two Deadpool movies I'm not that invested), and what's worse from my perspective, their planned Disney+ shows don't seem that interesting. They may be fun to watch, or they may not.

Star Wars doesn't appear to be bringing its A game to 2024 either (more on this below). Still, seeing as I've subscribed to eleventy-one streaming services I'm in no position to complain. I feel like a fashionista looking into her enormous wardrobe, wailing "I don't have a thing to wear". Maybe 2024 will be the year when I properly explore the content already available on my services and uncover some gems. Or I may be lazy and simply comfort-rewatch a lot of Downton and Once Upon A Time.

Anyway, I've managed to find a few things that I'll definitely watch and hopefully enjoy:

Doctor Who series fourteen/season one As I've ranted about in my review of the 2023 specials, how much I enjoy RTD's second era as Doctor Who showrunner is entirely dependent on how successfully he steers clear of politics. I've heard a worrying quote from Millie Gibson, who plays Ruby, saying that the forthcoming season will have "controversial" elements and is "what we need". The last thing I need is "controversial" Doctor Who if it takes the form of a showrunner, whose political judgement I don't trust, feeding me his opinions like cod-liver oil. But this might not be what Gibson meant at all. She and Ncuti Gatwa made a great duo in the Christmas special, and there are so many intriguing mysteries set up for this and coming seasons. The one who waits? The Toymaker's legions (I bet that piano-themed villain is one)? The Master's return? Mrs Flood's identity? Oh come on – this has got to be good, hasn't it?

Inside Out 2 Shock confession: I still haven't seen Disney's Wish. It wasn't in Swedish cinemas until the beginning of December, and I was travelling, then I had a cold, and then it was Christmas. By the new year, Wish had moved to the matinee slots, which are of little use to me. So I'll stream it in February or whenever it hits Disney+. Judging by the scathing reviews, it seems that in spite of Magnifico it's not one of the all-time Disney greats.

But at least it will give me some sort of Disney Animation fix this year; otherwise, they are offering nothing. I'm not counting a Mufasa prequel with dead-eyed CGI lions.

However, there is Pixar's Inside Out 2, which could be fun. I loved the original – it's one of my favourite Pixar films, perhaps even the favourite one (in hot contest with Ratatouille). I am a little concerned, though. The film will be tackling Riley's puberty, but among the new emotions introduced in trailers there's no mention of Desire or (which would admittedly be more child-friendly) Love. And in that case, haven't the film's creators kind of missed the point of puberty?

Belgravia: The Next Chapter I had to dive deeply in order to find this one (all right, a Google search on "period dramas 2024"), but apparently there is a sequel of sorts to Belgravia slated to appear in 2024. I say "of sorts" as we're fast-forwarding to the 1870s and a new generation of protagonists, but I'm all for it. The first series of Belgravia, an adaptation by Julian Fellowes of his own novel, was entertaining, if not in the Downton class. But I've stopped expecting the new Downton by now. Just give me a good, solid period drama without TV execs tying themselves in knots over the inequalities of history and I'll be happy.

Moonflower Murders As with Belgravia, my best bet for getting to watch this may actually be Swedish Television, not my aforementioned streaming services (buying the DVD is also an option, of course). It was Swedish Television that picked up the adaptation of Magpie Murders, to which Moonflower Murders is a kind of sequel. These crime novels by the ever-reliable Anthony Horowitz were both great reads, but I think I actually enjoyed the TV adaptation of Magpie Murders more than the book. Lesley Manville is older than I imagined Susan to be, but she has lots of style, and I loved her interactions with the fictional detective Atticus Pünd, played by the mellow-voiced Tim McMullan. In general, there were more connections between the murder Susan was looking into and the story-within-the-story than it was possible to convey in the novel, with actors playing both persons in a murdered detective writer's life and characters in his whodunnit. I'm hoping for more in the same vein.

The Bad Batch season three: Yep, I'm looking forward more to the third season of an animated Star Wars show than to either of the live action series that will (probably) be airing this year. This isn't too much of a slight as I enjoy animation a great deal, and the series has been surprisingly strong so far, considering the loveable clone protagonists are not overly complex characters (I perk up no end whenever the villainous Crosshair shows up). But it's still a bit of a slight. Of course I'll watch Skeleton Crew and The Acolyte, but... kids lost in space (admittedly with Jude Law), really? As for The Acolyte, the quote "This isn't about good or bad, it's about power and who's allowed to use it" doesn't sound very promising (see the first item on the list). Though it has to be said, I'm always there for trashing the Jedi.

tisdag 26 december 2023

Onward Who: Why I still look forward to the new Doctor Who era (in spite of the politics)

Well, I can't put it off any longer. It's time to review the first offerings of the new Russell T Davies era of Doctor Who, "RTD 2" as the fans refer to it. It's not a straightforward business for me. I was torn about the three 60th Anniversary specials that I'd been looking forward to so much. They weren't bad by any means  I thought Neil Patrick Harris as the Toymaker was great fun, as I knew I would  but they didn't quite live up to my, admittedly sky-high, expectations. They felt more like three solid episodes from series four of Doctor Who (with Tennant back as the Doctor and Catherine Tate as Donna) than anniversary specials. I can hardly believe I'm saying this, but I think Chibnall did a better job of celebrating the show as a whole in The Power of the Doctor.

No prizes for guessing what my other major gripe against the specials was (mainly the first one). U-huh, that's right: politics.

I can at least take credit for having called it, to some extent. I knew we could expect some attempts at political commentary from Davies. The problem is that his judgement, when it comes to deciding how much of his own opinions it's OK to put in a show and how, seems to have got worse. The worst example of clumsy commentary was the way he botched the character of Rose – not the companion of the Ninth and Tenth Doctor, but Donna's trans daughter – in the first special "The Star Beast".

It started all right, with mother Donna's furious reaction to Rose's jeering classmates, and a conversation between Donna and her acerbic mum Sylvia about Rose which felt genuine and down-to-earth ("I just get so clumsy", Sylvia complains). I could have gone with this simple, no-nonsense message: This is Rose, Rose is nice, don't be mean to Rose. But then the jargon creeps in. Rose tuts when the Doctor "assumes 'he' as a pronoun" about an alien being; if the point had to be made, why couldn't she say something like "How do you know it's not a 'she'?". 

Then we learn that Rose has inherited a mind-melding condition linking her with the Doctor from her mother, which has resulted in her non-binary-ness as "the Doctor is male and female, and neither, and more". The lecture tour ends with Donna and Rose explaining that they can cure themselves of their condition by just "letting it go", something a "male-presenting Time Lord will never understand". I think most of the Doctor Who fandom collectively cringed at that line.

What bothers me so much about RTD's handling of Rose is his intention. That kind of speechifying isn't going to convince anyone who's still on the fence about trans issues, quite the reverse. Davies has done trans persons no favours. He's not even preaching to the choir, as even the choir seems to think it's a bit on the nose (and I gather the notion that Rose is only trans because her mum melded her mind with an alien has not met with universal approval). No, I can't help thinking that what Davies wanted to do here was purposefully annoy fans who've complained about the right-on-ness of the Chibnall era, along the lines of "They don't like woke? I'll give them woke!" Generally, putting something in a TV series just to annoy some viewers (maybe more than Davies had bargained for) doesn't make for good writing, and it's not good for the ratings either.

The "colour-blind" casting of Isaac Newton in "Wild Blue Yonder" seems to have been done in the same vein. Doctor Who has never resorted to this form of diversity-boosting before, as it has always (well, since 2005 anyway) had plenty of roles for actors of different ethnicities playing roles with the same ethnicity, which is surely preferable to "look, let's just pretend they're white"-casting. The charming Nathaniel Curtis was thus wasted in a cameo that will mostly just irritate people. In "The Giggle", as a contrast, we see Charlie (who happens to be black) enter a toyshop in London in 1925. The Toymaker, posing as a toyseller with a blatantly bogus German accent, remarks that Charlie must be "used to warmer climes". "I'm from Cheltenham", Charlie informs him stiffly. Better.

All in all, I liked "The Giggle" quite a lot. Commentary-wise, I think highlighting the wish to be always right as a 21-century vice is fair and cuts all sorts of ways. The dig at a faux-Boris PM was a bit cheap and also dated, but this is the kind of thing we saw in RTD's first run as Doctor Who showrunner as well. What with my tolerance already stretched by "male-presenting Time Lords" and the like, though, I would have preferred as little commentary as possible, and more focus on the game-playing between the Toymaker and the Doctor (the games they do play are disappointingly simple).

And then came the Christmas special with Ncuti Gatwa as the new, Fifteenth Doctor. And I loved it.

Not because of the goblins, honest. One could suspect that I'd be onboard with almost anything as long as you put goblins in it, but as adversaries go I have to admit they were a bit silly (their song was really catchy, though). But this was just a fun adventure and a promising set-up for Gatwa's Doctor and his new companion, Millie Gibson's Ruby Sunday. I can't have been the only one to complain, when the casting was first announced, that it was uninspired to give us yet another pretty English girl from present-day Earth as a Doctor companion, but Gibson won me over. Her Ruby has great matey chemistry with Gatwa's Doctor and just rolls with the improbable scenarios she finds herself in instead of wasting time questioning reality and her sanity. Goblins exist? OK. Best save that baby from being eaten, then.

I also enjoyed Gatwa's Doctor; I liked him well enough in "The Giggle", but wasn't altogether convinced yet that he hit the right Doctor-y notes. Here, he nailed both the enthusiasm, the wish to know more about everything and the serious, heartfelt moments.

Davies is back, and can write up a storm when he wants to. Murray Gold is back, and his music is excellent throughout. Gatwa and Gibson have both made a great first impression. Of course I'm still onboard for series fourteen, or season one as it will be called on Disney +. Let's just hope I can stomach the political bits.

onsdag 6 december 2023

Fuzzy feelgood fare for anglophiles

Looking for an unambitious subject for a pre-travel, pre-Christmas blog post, I decided to pick one of those "I really should give that a watch some day" films from one of my streaming services, watch it and then write something about it. There were a few options: underperforming, gritty versions of the Robin Hood and King Arthur legends respectively (theme: is grittiness really a good idea here?); a soupy Netflix Christmas romcom (theme: soupy Netflix Christmas romcoms); or the first Paddington film (theme: ideal for anglophiles?). Somehow, I ended up plumping for Paddington.

The story is simple. The titular cute bear makes his way to London from Darkest Peru after the death of his uncle (his aunt holes up in a retirement home for bears, which mercifully does exist and isn't a fib just to get her nephew to seize his chance). Years earlier, before the young bear was born, his aunt and uncle – who belong to an unusually intelligent type of bear – ran into and bonded with an explorer from England, which is why the aunt fondly imagines that a home can be found there. 

The young bear finds London a lot less welcoming than he thought, but manages to get a room for the night with the Brown family, who give him the name Paddington after the station where he was found. Paddington, though well-spoken, is accident-prone, and Mr Brown is adamant that he can't stay, so Paddington tries to find the explorer who once visited his family and make a home with him. Mrs Brown is Paddington's kind-hearted champion, he eventually bonds with the children, and well, you can guess the rest.

The first half-hour or so, I wondered if I had made the wrong choice. Of course this is a children's film, but the plot is very standard nevertheless. Also, there's a lot of slapstick, something I didn't really care for even as a kid (at least not in live action), and even less now as a fuddy-duddy adult. When Paddington uses two of the family's toothbrushes to clean his ears, before flooding the bathroom, I shuddered and wished I had gone for the Christmas romcom instead.

What's not simply standard, though, is the script. From the start, a quirky humour shines through, like when the explorer names one of the bears after his beloved mother – and the other after a boxer he met in a bar. There are a lot of nice details like that. Another early example is when the competitively minded daughter learns Chinese and one of the stock phrases is: "I'm accused of insider trading. I need a lawyer". 

The visual style is also very attractive: like the film as a whole, it aims for whimsical charm and succeeds. The doll's house in the Browns' attic becomes an overview of their house as Paddington writes about them to his aunt; later, the camera swoops in on the toy train of antiques dealer Mr Gruber and shows a scene from his childhood when, as one of the children of the Kindertransport, he was met in England by a stiff female relative. "My body had travelled fast", sighs Gruber, played by kindly-eccentric-man expert Jim Broadbent, "my heart took a little longer". It was about at this point in the film that I decided I enjoyed it after all.

This scene is an example of two other of the film's virtues: that it's stuffed to the gills with solid acting talent, and that it can be heartfelt when it needs to be. But it's the wit and the inventive takes on classic comic set pieces I enjoyed the most. Two bored security guards while away the time by guessing the content description of their packet of biscuits, taking a genuine interest in the amount of sugar and other ingredients. Mr Brown, disguised as a cleaning lady, catches the fancy of a guard – so far, so familiar. But then the situation gets increasingly surreal as Mr Brown tries to explain the discrepancies between himself and the cleaning lady's photo id (she clearly looks like a real menace).

Hugh Bonneville is a reliable comic foil to Paddington as Mr Brown and Sally Hawkins a charming Mrs Brown, but it's often the side characters who steal the show rather than the Brown family or even cute Ben Whishaw-voiced Paddington himself. I'll certainly check out Paddington 2 at leisure, but with an awareness that I need to get in touch with my inner twelve-year-old in order to truly appreciate it.