Things to look forward to in 2023

I had planned to blog about Andor (which is really good, by the way) and have a serious "do ends justify the means?"-discussion about the pros and cons of ruthless rebel tactics, but – sorry, I'm just too tired. So a new year's list post it is, where I will probably forget to mention some obvious items because of ignorance or brain-mushiness. I will get to Andor next year. I think. Anyway...

The 60th anniversary Doctor Who specials So I know I've tried to play it cool and manage expectations when it comes to the return of Russell T Davies as show-runner, but... oh boy, this just looks so good. David Tennant back as an interim Doctor until Ncuti Gatwa takes over the reins; Donna Noble, one of the best RTD companions, back and possibly regaining memories from her time with the Doctor (I know more sophisticated fans have praised Davies for the "hard choice" of never letting Donna get her memories back, but I for one won't be disappointed if she does – I'm not one for hard choices); Donna's family reappearing, including her probably-not-as-snooty-anymore mum Sylvia and the late Bernard Cribbins as lovely grandpa Wilf; and last but not least, Neil Patrick Harris as a promisingly flamboyant-looking villain who must surely be the much-talked-about Celestial Toymaker. I know Harris as Barney from How I Met Your Mother, but I'm sure he'll be "legend-ary" as a villainous mastermind. And if the show has a deal with Disney + now, does that mean that Swedes get to see it almost at the same time as Brits? Here's hoping!

The Gilded Age season two It's no new Downton, yet. But with any luck, it's getting there. I'm amazed we can already look forward to the second season, after we had to wait so long for the first one, but if HBO trailers can be trusted, it's coming next year. I'm excited to get a new dose of the excellent Mr Russell, plus I'll be able to get two blog posts out of it: one where I follow up my predictions for season two, and one where I make new ones for season three (which must be in the works). There hasn't been that much talk about the show, but someone, somewhere, can still make The Gilded Age happen. I'm certain of it.

Grand Admiral Thrawn in live action – and a new Mandalorian season All right, so Andor is probably, objectively, the best-written live-action Star Wars TV show so far, and I did enjoy it. But if I'm honest, The Mandalorian remains my personal favourite. I just like the characters more than the ones in Andor (though the latter are intriguingly complex), and The Mandalorian has more of a classic Star Wars feel, along with an atmospheric Space Western vibe I really like – and I'm not even that into Westerns usually. Ahsoka will also be coming this year, where we'll surely get to see Grand Admiral Thrawn. Come now, I didn't sit through Rebels for nothing. Thrawn wasn't all I hoped he would be in that series, but he was still a tasty villain, and he cannot remain abducted by space whales. That's just waste of Star Wars villain talent.

Loki season two Well, what can I say? I mean, it's Loki! As I thought the first season got better and better as it went on, my expectations for season two are pretty high. They'd better start giving us some answers about how all these timeline retcons work though, as well as explain why Sylvie's timeline was pruned in the first place (my theory is, because she showed worrying tendencies towards becoming heroic).

Sanditon series three I googled "costume dramas 2023" in order to find something to balance out all this geekery and... this is what I can come up with. Yes, a Great Expectations adaptation will also be airing, but as it seems to be from the same people who made a "dark" A Christmas Carol which sounds so awful I haven't been able to bring myself to watch it, my hopes aren't that high. But Sanditon series three will probably be fun. Maybe poor Charlotte will finally get her man in this one?

Possibly, a new Thursday Next novel by Jasper Fforde Look, I don't need earnest immigration allegories from the creator of the Goliath Corporation. Just gimme more Thursday.                            

The Crown season five: Is Peter Morgan getting tired of royals?

Yep, I, too, thought the Mohamed Al-Fayed episode was the best one.

That's not my only unoriginal reaction to season five of The Crown. Did I notice that this season was overall kinder to the British royal family than the last two seasons? Yes I did. Was I appalled that Peter Morgan used the death of a child – a real-life tragedy – as the starting point of a questionable, speculative plot-line? Yes, I was. Was I surprised at how sympathetically "tampon-gate" was handled? Yes, pleasantly surprised even – it was nice to hear someone make the point that private conversations between lovers often are embarrassing and idiotic, though I have a hard time imagining this sentiment coming from Princess Anne. Did I gape over the effrontery of adding lines to the Queen's "Annus Horribilis" speech (though I admit I don't remember much of it, so you could have fooled me) and inventing a cringey conversation between John Major and Prince Charles where the latter tries to convince the former that the Queen has had her day? Yes... well, you get the picture by now.

This is only a handful of the sentiments expressed in more than one review of The Crown with which I am in agreement. So what remains to be said? Is there anything I can add as someone who hasn't had the same feeling of disenchantment as the series became increasingly anti-monarchist as many others, seeing I wasn't that into it in the first place?

Well, the fact that I'm not the only one who thought "Mou Mou" was by far the most fascinating episode (and I may have a slight ruthless-capitalist-patriarch bias) does raise a tentative question. Can it be that Peter Morgan is losing interest in the protagonists of the show, and the main theme of the series (whether all those sacrifices to royal duty Are Really Worth It)? The Waleses' marriage is such a train wreck it's hard not to get sucked in, as in the previous season, but otherwise Morgan has few new points to make about the royals themselves. It's always a treat to see Timothy Dalton, but did we really need a retread of Princess Margaret's grievances in connection with her old amour Peter Townsend? I love Jonathan Pryce, but his main storyline as Prince Philip is his friendship with Penny Knatchbull and how their closeness supposedly makes the Queen jealous. Cases of "emotional infidelity", when a man or woman doesn't betray their partner sexually but romantically moons over another person, deserve to be addressed more often in drama, but my goodness, not like this. If the real Prince Philip offered any solace to a grieving mother at a time when most others would actively have avoided her company, then more power to him. Such an act of kindness doesn't deserve to be cheapened and cast in a doubtful light.

As for the Queen herself, Imelda Staunton puts in a great performance as always, but she feels strangely wasted in the part. Her Queen is softer than Olivia Colman's tough bird, but we don't learn a lot about her personality-wise, and the parallel to the ageing royal yacht Britannia is really laboured. There's something wrong when you suspect that an actor got to flex their acting muscles more in the Harry Potter films than in a relatively high-prestige affair (though not as high-prestige as it once was) like The Crown.

In contrast, the drama feels more inspired when it concerns characters outside the royal family. Al-Fayed's relationship to his valet Sydney Johnson, which develops into a friendship after an inauspicious start (Al-Fayed gets Johnson fired from the Ritz for implied racist reasons, but makes a U-turn when he realises Johnson is the Duke of Windsor's former valet) could be a subject of its own film. Dr Khan, the surgeon who catches Princess Diana's eye, is portrayed as a real sweetie – you understand what Diana sees in him. The conflict between two BBC bosses, if a little forced, is refreshing as Morgan shows more sympathy for the old traditionalist who lost his leg as a war prisoner than the slick moderniser. In the episode where Charles and Diana finally divorce, we see scenes between other divorcing couples which I for one found engaging: here we had ministories about marriage breakdowns which sometimes made me go "Aw, give it another try" and sometimes "Yeah, you two should never have got married".

I can't help wondering whether Peter Morgan regrets having signed up for six seasons of The Crown. He still seems genuinely interested in the Charles and Diana breakup, which is evenhandedly portrayed insofar as the protagonists take turns in behaving really badly. But apart from that, royal affairs don't seem to interest him the way they once did. Maybe he'd rather make a series or film about something else, like the rise of a hard-headed Egyptian businessman and social climber.           

Sanditon series two: A Regency romp that works

The frothy costume drama Sanditon continues after all! It was originally cancelled by ITV after its first series – in spite of, to my knowledge, being generally well received by the costume-drama-loving public – but (if a brief Wiki search is to be believed) PBS and the streaming service BritBox came to the rescue. Series two was aired by Swedish television during the autumn of this year and became a welcome distraction on Saturday evenings. Irritatingly, the series creators (chief among them Andrew Davies), not having learned their lesson from last time, decided to end this series on a cliffhanger as well. At least this time we are assured that the story will go on in a third series.

Why do I like this show, when I was so stern about Netflix's attempt to jazz up Austen's Persuasion and haven't been especially blown away by Bridgerton, which is firmly in the same genre? It's not as if Sanditon has anything to do with its supposed source material anymore. Any tenuous link to the fragment penned by Jane Austen has been snapped long ago. And it's not Great Art by any means. The characters, though engaging enough and well acted, aren't especially complex, and the storylines aren't original – in fact they are cheerfully stolen from such different sources as Cyrano de Bergerac, governess novels and Gaslight. In my post about the first series, I warned against expecting anything Austenesque, and I repeat the warning for this series as well. This is not like Davies's Pride and Prejudice, let alone his Dickens adaptations. But, like the recent Doctor Who special, what we have here is an example of TV entertainment that understands its brief. It promises a light-hearted Regency soap, with romances and intrigues you can gossip and speculate about with other costume-drama nuts, and this is exactly what it delivers.

So why don't I feel like Jane Austen's good name has been violated, in the same way I did when watching Netflix's Persuasion? It is a bit cheeky to use an Austen fragment as merely a sales pitch for a series and then go completely in your own direction. I'm not fussed about this, though, and I suspect the main reason is that I didn't think Austen's novel fragment was particularly good, at least not by usual Austen standards. And it is only a few chapters long after all. Persuasion, on the other hand, is a completed work, and one of Austen's best novels, if not the best. Anne Elliot is a wonderful, mature heroine, and I feel it's far worse to take liberties with her than with the relatively thinly sketched characters in Sanditon. It's also worth mentioning that though Sanditon is unpretentious and doesn't feel overburdened by background research (a character struggles with a corset at one point, but corsets weren't really a thing when you wore forgiving high-waisted Empire dresses), it's not knowingly, wilfully anachronistic in the same way as the Netflix Persuasion. It does make some attempts to anchor its plot in a recognisable Regency setting.

As for enjoying Sanditon more than Bridgerton, I simply think there is more pace to the former. It's strange considering that the Julia Quinn novels I've read are usually very entertaining, but I find Bridgerton more than a little slow. The material feels as if it's been stretched too thin, and there's not a lot of the original author's wit in the screenplay. Sanditon, by contrast, bounces along and has a wider variety of subplots to keep it going.

What's series two about, then? Well, for one thing, they've killed off poor Sidney, presumably because they couldn't get Theo James back. I thought this too drastic at first, but as there are other characters who are unaccountably absent, I suppose because their actors couldn't or didn't want to return, I could eventually see why they went with this solution (is it likely that Lord Babington wouldn't check on his wife at least once? And do we ever get explained what happened to Diana Parker?). Anyway, poor Charlotte is grieving for Sidney, but eventually other romantic options come along. A dashing Colonel (Tom Weston-Jones, aka hot Compeyson from Dickensian) takes an interest, while Charlotte for her part is intrigued by the reclusive Mr Colbourne, by whom she is employed as a governess for his daughter and niece. There is some mystery concerning his dead wife... Meanwhile, Charlotte's romantic sister gets entangled with various redcoats; prickly heiress Georgiana Lambe is courted by the painter Lockhart, who plays on his unconvential image but doesn't seem entirely trustworthy; Esther Babington, upset that she's been unable to conceive a child, becomes the victim of a plot to to replace her as Lady Denhams's heir; and Thomas Parker frets over Sanditon's finances as usual, this time more and more ably assisted in his endeavours by his younger brother Arthur.

Needless to say, I liked some plot and character developments more than others. If there's one character who has suffered from being so far removed from the original source material, it's Thomas Parker: in Austen's fragment, he is my favourite by far, but in the series not even Kris Marshall's homespun charm can save him from coming across as a prize idiot. I wasn't a fan of the sugar boycott subplot – "moral" boycotts are a pet peeve of mine in any era. On the other hand, I am warming to its instigator Georgiana Lambe (Crystal Clarke): there's some good character development for her and for Arthur Parker (no longer simply "the fat brother") in this series. Also, the boycott plot has the advantage of casting a favourable light on the comic relief characters of the vicar and his spinster sister; they support Georgiana and are genuinely fond of her. For someone who watches a lot of Midsomer Murders and the Morse crime dramas (Morse, Lewis and Endeavour), a kindly vicar in British television makes a nice change.

Rose Williams gives Charlotte a great deal of charm and somehow makes this often frustrating heroine work. How Charlotte can prefer Mr Colbourne to the handsome Colonel is a mystery to me, but I can't wait to find out how it all turns out in the end.

The power of Doctor Who nostalgia

Usually I complain that I don't have enough to blog about. I can't use that excuse at the moment: there are plenty of potential blog topics just waiting to be written up. But does that make things easier? Not really.

One comparably easy topic should be The Power of the Doctor, Chris Chibnall's sign-off as Doctor Who show-runner and the Thirteenth Doctor's final adventure. But not even that is plain sailing. I enjoyed it, despite its flaws, and now I have to explain why.

If series thirteen, the Flux series, was overstuffed with plot lines and characters, that's even more the case here. At least in Flux, the different storylines usually had some sort of pay-off, and there was only one serious plot thread left dangling at the end, namely: what happened to the Universe? Seeing as its apparent destruction hasn't been brought up since, I presume that it's fine, somehow. The annihilation of the Daleks was clearly not long-lasting either, but that's nothing new in Who. All in all, though, you realised why the different components were there. The Ravagers, the Sontarans, the Dog Aliens (sorry, can't remember what they were called), the Grand Serpent, Williamson the "mad mole", the Weeping Angels – though it wouldn't, in my view, have been impossible to lift some of them out of the story, they did all have some part to play.

Now on the other hand, I have no idea why many of the plot lines in The Power of the Doctor were included, especially those that were supposed to be part of the Master's plan. Did the Qurunx have to be part of the plot? Or for that matter the whole "conversion planet"? What was Vinder's part in the story? Why was the Master masquerading as Rasputin? Or is he supposed to have actually been Rasputin? Why did he deface fifteen famous paintings? Why did he kidnap and shrink fifteen seismologists – was that necessary to the "cover the Earth with lava" part of the plot, or what? Did we need a Cyberman-Dalek-Master team-up when the Cybermen and Daleks were usually just standing around and acting as muscle for the Master? Some of the story elements were so cool I wished Chibnall would have stripped back the episode content and made more of the remaining plot lines. For instance, I was glad to see Ashad again, one of the best villains from series twelve, but in the end he acted little differently from how an ordinary Cyberman commander would. More could have been made of his anti-human stance versus Kate Stewart's pro-human one.

I would rather have the messiness of late Chibnall Who, though, than the flaws of early Chibnall Who. The Power of the Doctor delivered where it had to: on the nostalgia front. Doctor Who specials, especially ones that mark the end of a Doctor's career, aren't the kind of episodes where you introduce new exciting characters or story arcs – it's where you pay tribute to all the show has offered in the past. Chibnall understood the brief and delivered. The nostalgia content was more geared towards Classic Who than New Who, but maybe that is only fair. After all, Chibnall's Timeless Child nonsense could be said to be most disrespectful to the classic Doctors, in implying that the history they provided the character with was not enough. By including old companions as well as old Doctors in his story, Chibnall had the chance to make amends – to some extent at least.

Strangely enough, seeing as I'm not nearly as well-versed in Classic Who as in New Who, the Classic Who nostalgia was what I appreciated most in The Power of the Doctor. Grumpy Tegan and enthusiastic explosions expert Ace were a great addition to the general shenanigans, and each got to share a moment with "their" Doctor, with moving results. Having the Doctor encounter versions of herself in a sort of regeneration limbo where it didn't seem strange that they had all aged considerably was a really clever move. In the end we even caught a glimpse of some more classic companions, including one of the very first, and I was all there for it.  

Also, does it really matter why we get Sacha Dhawan's Master as Rasputin when we get Sacha Dhawan's Master as Rasputin? Dhawan is still a great Master: not as funny as in his other appearances, I thought, but nailing the underlying sadness of the character, whose maniacal outbursts somehow ring hollow. And there are funny moments too. A Cyberman and Dalek sharing a bemused glance as the Master does a dance number to the Boney M. hit Rasputin is priceless.

Also – a significant negative virtue this for a Chibnall offering – there is no preaching. Absolutely none. Just pure nerdy Who fun, ending in a not entirely unforeseen but welcome return of a familiar face. I believe Russell T Davies and Steven Moffat would both have done more with the plot elements in The Power of the Doctor than Chibnall did. Nevertheless, even if the final meal could be improved upon, Chibnall deserves credit for getting the delicious ingredients together.

And next year we get an RTD-penned three-part special run with the (sort of) new Doctor... I can't wait. The Celestial Toymaker sounds like a very promising villain.

What's the deal with magic schools?

If House of the Dragon and The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power have one thing in common (besides pacing issues), it's that they take themselves very seriously – one could argue, more seriously than any franchise in which dragons are a thing should. The Netflix film The School for Good and Evil looked like the perfect antidote fantasy-wise. One film reviewer compared its vibe to Barbara Cartland, which made it an appealing prospect when I was looking for fluffy weekend entertainment. The film's length was a bit daunting at approximately two hours twenty minutes, but fairy-tale based fantasy is the part of the genre I enjoy most, so I had to give it a go.

Not long after I started watching I thought to myself: "I forgot fairy tales are usually meant for kids". Even if the film started getting into slightly more adult (or at least teenage) concerns later on, this reminds you more of early than late Harry Potter (I'm talking about the HP films here as I haven't read the books). If you're a grown-up, this is by no means required viewing. Having said that, I wasn't bored. It was light-hearted fun in the same vein as Harry Potter and the Disney Descendants films and had the sense to question its own daft premise.

Is The School for Good and Evil derivative, then? I think it's fair to say it is. It's based on a book series where the first book was published 2013, well after the Harry Potter craze had started – though, it has to be said, two years before the first Descendants movie. Just tell me if the film setup sounds familiar: The School for Good and Evil is a school where future fairy-tale characters are trained for the roles they are to play as good and evil protagonists in various tales. Two girls who feel out of place in a humdrum village read about it and one of them, who imagines herself as a princess, longs to go there. In the end, they are both taken there, but the princess-wannabe is dropped off at the School for Evil, while her no-nonsense friend (believed to be a witch in their home village) is dropped off in the School for Good. Much what-am-I-doing-here-ing ensues.

Yeah, we've seen this before. We've had magic plus school, fairy tales plus school, fictional characters plus school... Without having seen it, I believe the whole training for future roles in fairy tales thing was the premise for the animated series Ever After High which the Descendants films were accused of borrowing from. The critical look at what is considered good and evil in a fairy-tale context we recognise from Once Upon A Time and, I hate to admit it, the Shrek movies. Fervent Oncer that I am, I will always claim that Once tackled the subject matter best by nuancing the picture rather than just flipping the coin and making the good characters bad and vice versa: the villains, though incredibly charismatic, are still villains, and still have to reform to get their happy endings – well, sort of. For all that, I'm not above a bit of simple ragging of vain, empty-headed princes and princesses, but no-one can say that it's original. 

The School for Good and Evil does less simple coin-flipping than the Shrek films or, say, Maleficent, and I liked the way it called out the nasty actions that "good" characters sometimes commit in classic fairy tales. On the other hand, the fairy-tale flavour is pretty generic: most of the school pupils are supposed to be the offspring of existing good and bad characters, but they don't particularly resemble their famous parents. Instead, you pretty much have goth kids versus popular kids. Sophie, the girl who's dropped off at the School for Evil, thinks she belongs in the School for Good because she's pretty, but her selfishness is supposed to make evil the better fit. But plenty of the princesses in the School for Good are equally self-obsessed, so her confusion is understandable. Seeing as the franchises I've mentioned aren't churning out new material, though, I can make do with this kind of fare. It's not the best fairy-tale-based fantasy has to offer, but it's not the worst either.

One thing I find hard to understand, though, is the popularity of the magic school. When Harry Potter rose to fame, I sort of saw it: there was the combination of two popular genres, (children's) fantasy and tales from boarding school à la Malory Towers, and it seemed like a fun enough idea for one book series for kids. But since then, I've come across magic schools time and time again. There's the Blythewood book series by Carol Goodman; the Winx TV series on Netflix that I've quite enjoyed (I know it's for teens, but... Robert James-Collier is in it, and that's my excuse); a book series by Naomi Novik which features a school that, I suppose as a contrast to other fictional magic schools, is sinister and not cosy at all; the list could go on. And here's the thing. Learning magic at school – even a sinister one – is lame. It deglamourises and demystifies magic. Maybe child readers fondly imagine that if they were taught spells and potions at school they'd enjoy it. Well, they'd be wrong. Even the most interesting subject loses its charm when you have to do homework on it.

I vastly prefer fantasy franchises where magic is either self-taught or the subject of one-on-one tutorials with suitably cool mentors. Learning the ropes from a (non-demonic) sorcerer who's at the top of his game: now that's what I call real magic. Being stuck in a school just isn't enchanting enough.

What was that? Netflix's Persuasion and the pretty frock conundrum

"What did I just watch?" Is a comment you sometimes hear on YouTube. I interpret it as slightly more positive than "It was terrible and I hated it". The reviewer is signalling that though the film or TV programme they watched was complete rubbish, somehow they managed to get some enjoyment out of the sheer weirdness of the product on offer. I consider myself generous when I call the so-called adaptation of Jane Austen's Persuasion on Netflix a "What did I just watch?" kind of TV film. It was awful in so many ways. I could not in good conscience recommend it to anyone. And yet I did enjoy revelling in its bizarreness, in a way I wasn't able to do in the case of, say, Enola Holmes. It's just... so... what were they thinking?

I'll start out boringly by, in all fairness, listing a few positives:

1) At the beginning of the film, when Anne is pining for Wentworth, Lady Russell points out that if he cared about her so much, he could have got in touch with Anne after he became rich. If I remember rightly, this is briefly touched upon in the novel, but I don't think any of the other adaptations have brought it up. I've never thought about it because come on, would you really contact a woman who dumped you because you were poor and say "Hello again, I'm rich now?". But Wentworth knew that Anne wasn't a gold digger, and that the concerns about his lack of fortune were those of her friends and family, not Anne's own. Not looking her up does seem a little "weak and resentful".

2) The Musgrove girls, Louisa in particular, are less slappable than in other adaptations. Louisa doesn't unconsciously treat Anne like an old maid and considers the possibility that Wentworth might be a good match for her. She registers that there's something between them and, when she starts falling for Wentworth herself, more or less asks Anne's permission to proceed. Also, when Wentworth criticises Anne behind her back, Louisa stands up for her. It's not in the book, but I quite like this.

3) When Anne tells Wentworth shortly after his return that "I don't want you to be angry", he whips back "How would you like me to be?". Good point.

4) Captain Harville is sweet. Well, he always is, but I'm grateful this adaptation didn't ruin him. In this version of the story, he actually tries to fix Anne up with Captain Benwick. When Benwick falls for Louisa instead, Harville explains being down in the mouth about it (in spite of his own attempt at matchmaking) by not expecting his own reaction: Benwick's grief "kept my sister alive somehow". I can buy that.

5) Mr Elliot is a real charmer. The whole Mrs Smith subplot isn't brought up (and let's face it, it doesn't really work in an adaptation anyway), so his main fault is being mercenary, something he is upfront about. I enjoyed him running rings around the sadly wooden Wentworth when it came to verbal sparring. It also made a nice change that this version of the character actually marries Mrs Clay.

6) On the whole, the side characters are played well. Richard E. Grant plays Sir Walter with a touch of self-irony which is amusing.

There is no way, though, that these positives weigh up all the terrible stuff. There's the sheer cringiness of the winking allusions to modern mores  ("A Five in London is a Ten in Bath"; "Hide my ledgers! I don't want anyone to assume my identity"; "Don't respond to anything he says... like a ghost"). Anne Elliot – Austen's most mature heroine, who suffers real anguish during the course of the novel –  is depicted as a Bridget Jones-like singleton, smirkingly breaking the Fourth Wall, drinking red wine to drown her sorrows, sometimes mooning over Wentworth like a teenager and getting into embarrassing scrapes. Her (unshaven) Frederick does little except look troubled: the romance is far from compelling. Even if you ignore the references to modern dating, Louisa's courtship tips to Anne are inane, and why would Anne herself rudely blurt out during dinner that Charles Musgrove proposed to her first?

The worst thing about the film, though, is its open, knowing anachronisms. So why on earth didn't they set it in modern times and state that the story was inspired by Persuasion rather than an attempt at a direct adaptation? It would have solved many, if not all, of the film's problems. It could openly have poked fun at contemporary dating games etc. instead of making nonsensical allusions to them in what's supposed to be a historical setting. The diversity casting wouldn't have induced any head-scratching moments for the viewer, because uptown 21st century New York, for example, really is a melting pot, unlike Regency England.

The only answer I can think of is that the film's creators were beguiled by the trimmings of a romantic period drama – the pretty dresses, the coaches, the dancing – while not caring for the real historical context at all. And so, as they were going to ignore the times in which Jane Austen lived and worked anyway, they thought they might as well do it as openly and flauntingly as they could. The success of Bridgerton seems to have given people the idea that you can play fast and loose with Regency-set dramas as long as you deliver those pretty frocks. Well, I'm sorry, but this doesn't work with an Austen novel (it hardly works with Bridgerton in my personal opinion). Next time anyone wants to jazz up a Jane Austen plot, they would do well to go modern.

House of the Dragon: Be careful what you wish for, GOT fans

Disgruntled Game of Thrones fans have plenty of reasons to be pleased with House of the Dragon, which takes place in Westeros 200 years before the events of the GOT saga. (Is it a prequel when the characters are all new? Or more of a spin-off?) It has a lot of the things they considered missing from the much-despised final season of Game of Thrones. Based entirely on a George R.R. Martin book? Check. Shockingly violent scenes and scenes the squeamish (of which I am one) would have preferred to take place off-stage, such as a Medieval-style Caesarean? Check. Plots and characters that take their time, with slow build-ups rather than dragon-riders whizzing up from the South to the Wall in merely hours? Check. Zero plot armour? Check. (Granted, there haven't been that many surprising deaths this far, but there have been some – two protagonist love interests were dispatched pretty fast.) Brothel scenes? Check – though not as many as in Game of Thrones in its heyday. 

For my part, I found the characterisation a great improvement on what we got from the first season of Game of Thrones, which so many remember fondly but I struggled with. It's less a collection of the good, the depraved and the completely psycho than GOT at its height: the characters are considerably more complex. Also, what I enjoyed most in the original Game of Thrones were the royal intrigues in King's Landing rather than shenanigans beyond the Wall or in Dorne or Braavos. And what does House of the Dragon concentrate on? Royal intrigues in King's Landing. 

So, what's it like to watch the end result of all these wishes coming true? Kinda boring.

That's just my opinion, though. To do Game of Thrones fans justice, when being served exactly what they ordered, they have pronounced themselves more than satisfied, which is admirably consistent of them. And it's not a question of people making up their mind to love or hate a series before it has even aired, either. There was widespread wariness towards the idea of a Game of Thrones prequel (sort of) when the trailers came out. GOT viewers reserved their judgement until they saw the series, and then they lapped it up – the knotty language, the long-winded dialogue, all of it. As with the first season of The Crown, I'm wondering whether it's my attention span that's at fault. At the same time, I quite like Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power, which many viewers – often the same viewers who love House of the Dragon – claim is too slow. This, I admit, leaves me nonplussed. What, you can't get into the finding Sauron game, but you get into this sedately paced family drama?

But I suppose you could just as well turn the question around and wonder: how can I get into The Rings of Power, but find myself yawning in front of House of the Dragon? Yes, the pacing is slow, but you could say the same of Rings of Power. Yes, the dialogue is often cumbersome and faux-archaic, especially in the first episodes (surely saying "mine" instead of "my" is just bad grammar?) but so it is in Rings of Power. True, Rings of Power has a more epic sweep, but seeing as I didn't care for half of the settings of the original Game of Thrones, it feels hypocritical to criticise House of the Dragon for concentrating on King's Landing. Why is it that I can't get more engaged in "the Dance of the Dragons"? Especially as the villains are much more my kind of thing than the nut-cases in the original show? Take, for instance, Otto Hightower – the King's right-hand man (on and off), concerned with the welfare of the realm, but highly ambitious and not at all above feathering his own nest. He's played by Rhys Ifans, too. I really appreciate what must surely be a nod to the "Iron Chancellor" Otto von Bismarck, but not even Otto is enough to make me enthusiastic about the show so far.

Perhaps the main fault, for me, lies in the personality of the protagonist, Rhaenyra Targaryen, Princess and heir to the Iron Throne. What is it with me and Targaryen females? Once again, I fail to warm to one. The trouble is, I don't see why we should root for Rhaenyra and not for Otto and his daughter Alicent. It's not that I'm not usually on the villains' side, but at least I can normally understand why their antagonists are supposed to be the good guys. Here, neither side really has the moral highground. Rhaenyra lies and cheats with the best of them, but she doesn't have enough charm to make her a likeable anti-heroine: instead, she keeps complaining about her lot. She spends years sulking after her father marries Alicent and gets a son (in fact several), as Rhaenyra fully expects to be displaced as heir because she's a girl. But her father Viserys, who may be the only halfway honourable character in the show, does not displace her, so what was all that sulking for? We are meant to think the decent Viserys is a "weak" king and Rhaenyra will make a better, "stronger" ruler because she's more gung-ho, but so far I've seen precious little real talent for state craft from her. She would probably be a hit in, say, 15th-century England with her "let's get on a dragon and blast'em" attitude, but I'm not at all sure this is always the best ruling policy. Give me peaceful Viserys any day.

Anyway, I can't say this TV series isn't ambitious or well acted, so if you loved the original Game of Thrones, by all means give it a watch. I think you will find Westeros very much as you left it.

In defence of The Rings of Power (though I do get why some people dislike it)

The battle of the fantasy franchises is on. I initially considered gathering my thoughts on Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power on Amazon Prime, House of the Dragon on HBO and The Sandman on Netflix in one post and call it "fantasy month" (they all started streaming at the end of August and beginning of September – The Sandman dropped in its entirety while the other two shows are released episode by episode). But I don't think I can be concise enough, so the shows will have to have their own posts (at least the first two: The Sandman is far gloomier than I thought it would be, so I'm not sure I'll finish it). 

To start with Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power, then. I'd firmly anticipated being bored by this series, as there have been some very negative reactions where it's described as slow-moving. Oddly enough, though, I found myself quite enjoying it – more, in fact, than I've enjoyed the (from what I can see) far more popular Game of Thrones prequel House of the Dragon so far. I like the epic sweep of the show, and at least some of the characters feel worth rooting for. At the same time, I understand why real Tolkien fans aren't that thrilled, as this based-on-appendices-to-Silmarillion series probably has very little to do with Tolkien.

I have to come clean here. I did watch the Peter Jackson Lord of the Rings film trilogy when it first came out, and had a better time than I expected (I saw them on the big screen and they were very impressive), but I have never read the books, nor have I any great wish to do so. I did not consider the films' portentous dialogue their strongest point. While the characters were often likeable – did Sam literally carry the whole quest, or what? Why didn't they simply give him the Ring? – it felt significant that the most interesting character (Gollum) was split into a good and an evil side. This was as close to moral greyness as the films got, and let's be frank, it wasn't very close at all. Most of the story was very black and white, and the main bad guy was a freaking eye. Not very exciting for a villain-lover, then, at least not exciting enough to check out in book form.

Having said that, I wouldn't mind rewatching those films at some point when I have oceans of time. And strangely enough, the Amazon series seems to be pitched exactly at us Tolkien near-ignoramuses who quite liked the films. We know enough to be curious about the time in Middle-earth's history when there was more than one ring flying around and everyone was at one another's throats, but we aren't knowledgeable enough to see the ways in which the series might go against Tolkien's vision. What the show should have done, in my view, is ditch the Lord of the Rings part of the title, simply call itself The Rings of Power and honestly acknowledge that it doesn't aspire to be "canon" but is rather an expensive, Tolkien-inspired fan fiction that bears as much resemblance to Lord of the Rings as the Sanditon TV series does to Jane Austen.

The answer to the accusation that the show is unfaithful to Tolkien's work, then, is "no idea, but probably yes". What of the accusation that the show is embarrassingly woke, to the point of self-parody? I can see what gave rise to it. I've previously stated that I think fantasy is a genre where you can go nuts with diverse casting, what with having no historical limits to contend with, but perhaps there should be some thought put behind it. Melting-pot societies don't just appear out of nowhere: they tend to be open and metropolitan, which (and I might be completely wrong here) are not two words I would associate with elves. I wouldn't have minded a little clarification regarding the diversity of elves and dwarves (don't the latter live underground?), and it is irritating that the show doesn't deign to address such matters. (I'm going with the fairly standard "different tribes" head-canon explanation.) What bothers me more is the disregard for family likenesses: Míriel and Theo must take after their absent mother and father respectively a lot, as there is no resemblance to the parents we do see. It's not Iannucci's David Copperfield level of confusing, but it comes close.

Story-wise, though, I don't think the series is in any way gratingly ideological. There have been many angry reactions to seeing the later serene Galadriel depicted in her young days as a warrior spoiling for a fight – as if the only way a female character can show strength nowadays is to be able to fight like a man. But I don't believe that is the point here. Young Galadriel is clumsy and insensitive in her combativeness: I think we're about to witness how events shape her to be the wise and compassionate woman (well, elf) seen later in the canonical story. Characters need a story arc, after all – my guess is that Galadriel will be softened by her experiences, while Elrond (whom I remember as rather stuck-up in the Trilogy films, but who is probably my favourite character in Rings of Power) will be hardened by his. In the actual plot, there is only one scene so far that felt like dreaded social commentary, as an agitator in Numenór talked about elves taking over the islanders' jobs (an admittedly eye-covering moment). But that's it. No-one, mercifully, mentions making Middle-earth great again. If you're only avoiding the show because you fear it will be too woke, give it a try: don't write it off because of a trailer featuring a grim girl in armour.

Finally, let's address the giant eye in the room. As a villain-lover, I must admit I'm curious to see what Sauron was like in his heyday. There is still a guessing game going on as to which suspicious stranger will turn out to be him – whoever it is, it has to be an improvement on an eye. I'm happy to play Find Sauron for another couple of episodes. Though I wouldn't mind some actual rings of power turning up soon.

Comfort reading – and comfort viewing

So, there haven't been that many blog posts from me about books lately. That's because I have been very unambitious in my reading of late. I took one look at Doctor Zhivago, saw that it started with a description of the protagonist's sad childhood rather than some juicy romantic stuff involving villains as love rivals, and concluded that on second thought, it looked more like a winter novel. Not even the self-indulgent reads have always lasted the course – fairy-tale inspired novels I've given up on include Marissa Meyer's Gilded, although it looked so promising (a teenage boy with freckles? Really, Marissa??). One typical summer read I managed to finish, though, was The Thursday Murder Club by Richard Osman. I liked it fine, but I suspect other readers of not-too-grisly crime stories may enjoy it more than I do, and I'll try to explain why.

I can't be the only one who tried on The Thursday Murder Club because Richard Osman is "that guy from Pointless". There is an international channel for us foreign anglophiles called BBC Brit, which basically only airs a handful of Beeb programmes, usually reruns too. Luckily, Pointless is one of those programmes, and thanks to one of my many streaming services I can watch it on catch-up. I love this game show. The premise (the contestants must try to score as few points as possible by finding the most obscure, correct answers to questions that have been put to a number of people before the show – the more people who knew the answer, the higher the score) is tricky to get your head around, but once you have it's a mildly educational delight. If I don't feel like watching anything else, an episode of Pointless usually works. 

One of the reasons this is such a comfort blanket of a show is the friendly atmosphere provided by the programme's presenter, Alexander Armstrong, and said Richard Osman, who is the one giving out the correct answers. The blessedly un-barbed banter between Armstrong and Osman leaves the viewer with a warm, fuzzy feeling towards both of them. In other words, to regular viewers of Pointless, Richard Osman has goodwill in spades.

I was a bit doubtful about the plot of The Thursday Murder Club, though. As advertised on the blurb, it features four senior citizens at a high-end retirement residence who take an interest in unsolved murders, and soon get a fresh, local murder to sink their teeth into. This sounded to me almost like a parody of "cosy crime". Also, though I like Christie's Miss Marple, four oldies solving crimes seemed too much of a muchness, as I'm not really that interested in the daily routine of senior citizens (hopefully, one gets there soon enough). As I feared, the novel focuses heavily on the lives of its four aged protagonists – hard-as-nails ex-spy Elizabeth; Joyce, an retired nurse who's not as ditzy as she seems; tough old union boss Ron and polite and pedantic ex-psychiatrist Ibrahim. The plot takes its time to get going; there's a lot of scene-setting, and once I was actually close to quitting.

Once the crime story gathers momentum, though, it has many pleasing twists and turns, and I swallowed more than one red herring along the way (perhaps you trail after red herrings rather than swallow them? – Joyce or Elizabeth would probably set me right). The senior amateur sleuths are charming, though I occasionally found Joyce's decided opinions and Elizabeth's hard-ball-playing a little trying, and the police officers who try – and fail – to keep the quartet in check are very likeable. But this kind of mystery novel is not quite for me. There wasn't enough focus on the brainwork, and the quartet's different specialities and knowledge weren't used that much to solve the mystery. It wouldn't have mattered if I enjoyed the setting and atmosphere more, but I didn't particularly. I know the novel's message is that we should not discount the old, and it wants to show how intelligent and interesting these old'uns are, but to me, a little of Joyce's recounting of the daily life at the residence went a long way. However, I'm aware that this is very much a question of personal taste. 

The Thursday Murder Club does exactly what it says on the tin. If you like the idea of senior citizens solving murders, with the focus being on the cosy rather than the crime in "cosy crime", you'll probably enjoy this novel a lot. If the makers of Pointless asked 100 persons the question "Did you enjoy The Thursday Murder Club?" (not that they would as it's not a knowledge question, but bear with me), I suspect "Yes" would get a high score.

A perfectly decent sign-off: Downton Abbey: A New Era

So, I was going to blog last week, but had my energy sapped by a week-long heatwave. All right, maybe not just the heatwave. Curiously, I've found it hard to find the motivation to tackle the subject I've lined up, although it's a juicy one: the second, and surely final, Downton film.

Perhaps the subject is a little too juicy. I actually enjoyed Downton Abbey: A New Era more than the first film, but I haven't been looking forward to summarising my thoughts on how the stories for the whole numerous cast of main characters in Downton ended. Therefore, I will dial down the ambition level somewhat, though this is in all probability the last Downton drama we will ever get (unless there's a spin-off set in the future, featuring the Crawley kids as grown-ups and Lady Mary as the new stern matriarch). I'll try concentrating on two aspects: why I prefer this film to the first even though it's essentially lightweight, and why neither of the films lives up to the Downton Abbey series at its best.

I always enjoy rewatching the first Downton Abbey film, but every time I do I get annoyed at the daft "servants insisting on serving the King and Queen and defending Downton's honour" plot. For reasons I explained in my film review, I simply can't buy this. Moreover, we spend an inordinate amount of time on the royal visit, and side-plots connected to it. I didn't think a royal Downton visit was that clever an idea to begin with: it felt like one of the less inspired plot thefts from Upstairs Downstairs (where it was more believable that the then King would pop by). I'm sure the story about Princess Mary and her unhappy marriage is interesting in itself, and I wouldn't have minded seeing more about it in films and TV series about the royal family at the time (The King's Speech, say). But why do we spend time on her in a Downton film, which is already overcrowded with protagonists – the characters we've actually been following for six series? Fellowes did try to connect the King and Queen's visit with what was going on in the lives of Downton residents up- and downstairs, but the conceit felt forced, and if you strip away all the pomp and circumstance, the visit wasn't a very significant event for the main characters of Downton the series.

Downton Abbey: A New Era has a similar problem, in that the two main plotlines – a film crew wants to make a film at Downton Abbey, and the Dowager Countess inherits a French villa from an old beau we've never heard mentioned before – aren't stories that have grown organically, so to speak, from the plots and conflicts we've seen in the series. Like the royal visit, they seem to be there to provide glamorous set pieces around which the characters' personal dramas can unfold. Here, though, I think Fellowes does a better job of integrating the glamorous set-piece plots and the domestic Downton plots. There is at least a little at stake for the main characters. The Earl of Grantham is faced with the possibility that maybe he's not the rightful Earl at all. The film plot may seem only an airy soufflé, but the film crew does threaten to unsettle Lady Mary's family life even as it provides happy endings for other members (and ex-members) of the household. 

Yes, there are new characters unconnected to the series present this time around as well, but their interactions with the Downton crowd made it intriguing to follow their dramas. The friendliness of the French nobleman who is convinced that the Earl is his half-brother adds a layer of complication to the situation the Earl finds himself in. The troubles of the female film star whose common accent may bar her from work on the new "talkies" highlight Anna's diplomacy and Daisy's more no-nonsense approach, and which strategy works best in this particular instance. Overall, Daisy has a much more flattering role than in the last film, and for the first time, as we see a glimpse of their married life, I started to believe in her and Andy as a couple. You could argue that in the first film, Princess Mary's rocky marriage provided an opportunity for another Downton character – Tom Branson – to shine, but it had already been established in other side-plots what a good egg he is. He didn't need more to do in the royal set-up.

Downton Abbey: A New Era is by no means perfect. The plotting is sloppy in places, and there are inconsistencies. What happened to Carson's trembling hands (which we didn't see much of in the previous film either)? He retired for a reason, remember. Where did Molesley learn to lip-read? How can Andy be part of a long-term plan to ensure there's a butler at Downton when he's set to take over Mr Mason's tenant farm? Wasn't Henry Talbot done with car racing, and how is him attending races helpful for his and Branson's business? To be fair, an effort is made to provide an "in-universe" explanation for the absence of Lady Mary's husband (Matthew Goode was busy filming elsewhere) and milk it for dramatic effect. Even so, and although Mary insists that marriage is "a novel, not a short story", which leaves us hopeful she and Henry will get through their rough patch, it feels a little sad to leave her story in a less satisfying place than it was in the previous film. Especially, it provides those of us who still ship Mary and Charles Blake with plenty to shake our heads over.

In the end, though, the writing and characterisation is still recognisably Downtonesque, and the Dowager Countess's send-off is given its proper weight, with many touching moments between her and her nearest and dearest. I love the friendship between the Dowager and the former Mrs Crawley, now Lady Merton, and here it comes into play again. The film ends with an event – or strictly two – which have a real impact on life at Downton, and hint at what the future will look like.

I think the reason why the films don't reach the heights of the Downton Abbey TV series in its prime is partly that they are films. Downton Abbey was conceived as an ensemble piece with plenty of time to flesh out the story arcs of each of its main characters during hours of television. It's impossible to give all of the protagonists the same attention in a film, and so some characters slide into the background. 

You could argue that the Downton specials did a better job of juggling its cast than the films, but they were part of the TV series context in another way. Stories that had been built up through a whole series of episodes – such as Mary's romance with Matthew and her ill-fated engagement to Sir Richard Carlisle – could get their pay-off in a special. Downton Abbey: A New Era more or less dispenses with the pretence that anyone who hasn't seen the TV series would be interested to watch it: that makes as much sense as if someone who hadn't previously seen a Marvel film would watch Avengers: Endgame. Nevertheless, by having external forces largely unconnected to Downton – the King and Queen, an amorous nobleman, a film crew – drive the plots, the films are more self-contained than the series specials were. I think it's a pity. I would rather have seen stories linked to unresolved plot lines in the TV series – like, say, someone threatening to make Marigold's real parentage known to the world – even if that would mean that newcomers wouldn't have a clue what was going on.

Oh, and the answer to the important question "Is Thomas getting any?" is yes. Thomas love interests are like buses – you wait for ages for one to arrive, and then two turn up at once, or at least in consecutive films. I would have been happy with Ellis from the previous film proving to be Thomas's endgame, but I'm not complaining; at least this way one of my Downton predictions partly comes true. Plus, Dominic West!

A villain-lover's guide to Marvel, Phase Four – the TV series, part two (from Hawkeye to Ms Marvel)

Time to push on with my Phase Four overview – there's not much left of it, so I'll probably do a roundup post about Thor: Love and Thunder (which I still haven't seen), She-Hulk: Attorney at Law and Black Panther: Wakanda Forever sometime in the autumn or winter after they've all aired. But for now, here are my thoughts on the three most recent Marvel TV series. For my impression of the other Phase Four TV series and general reflections about the Phase Four TV shows, see my previous post. For my thoughts on the movies so far (excluding Love and Thunder), check the post before that.

Hawkeye

Series set-up: All Clint Barton aka Hawkeye wants to do is to spend a nice, quiet Christmas with the family he thought he'd lost forever. However, during a visit to New York, he gets involved with the troubles of his number-one fan Kate Bishop. As Kate is in danger largely because she was filmed wearing Clint's old "Ronin" vigilante costume, he feels responsible for her. The two first-class archers have to fight a whole array of suspicious characters, who may or may not include Kate's own mother, and ideally wrap things up before Christmas Day.

Additional genres (apart from the super-hero genre) channelled: Buddy-cop movie (yes, again), action comedy.

Overall impression: I really enjoyed this series. Granted, it's a bit unfocused, with plot points which are set up as important but then get a rushed conclusion or none at all. But I like the gruff no-nonsense Clint, who one feels has had a hard time of it as the only non-superpowered Avenger besides the now deceased Natasha. Kate is engaging, too, and I appreciate that she's not questioning Clint and scoffing in an anything-you-can-do-I-can-do-better way: she genuinely admires him. This series has a zing and a light touch which The Falcon and the Winter Soldier lacked, and therefore I prefer it.

Any interesting villains in the "array of suspicious characters"? This series actually has a Big Bad who turns up at the end in the form of Kingpin, who from what I can make out is a famous foe of especially Spider-Man and Daredevil. He has weight, to be sure, but for someone like me, who hasn't read the comics or watched the Daredevil series (formerly on Netflix, now on Disney +), there isn't much here to go on when it comes to discovering what kind of villain he is. I guess we'll see in future projects. The gangsters for hire, the Tracksuit Mafia, are mostly comedic and remind me fondly of the Beagle Boys. There's a fun red herring among the sus characters of whom I would like to see more.

Moon Knight

Series set-up: The shy and bullied Londoner museum employee Steven Grant has a rather wretched existence. He keeps blacking out, waking up in awkward situations and places he can't remember and missing large chunks of his life. After a couple of days where things have been madder than usual he finds out that he might actually be the tough American mercenary Marc Spector. The upside? Marc leads an exciting life visiting places Steven has always wanted to see, has a charming wife and can summon superpowers and a cool-looking suit. The downside? He's pursued by nutters, possessed by the not very amiable Egyptian god Khonshu and has Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID). Which means that either Steven has a severe mental affliction, or is part of one.

Additional genres channelled: Psychological thriller, psychological drama, Indiana Jones-style adventure.

Overall impression: To watch Oscar Isaac acting his socks off for six episodes is by no means a hardship. His hapless Steven is especially endearing, but you feel for Marc too. May Calamawy is charismatic as the (of course) feisty Leyla, Marc's puzzled wife. F. Murray Abraham's (known to villain-lovers as Salieri in Amadeus) voicing of the tetchy Khonshu is a delight. Tonally, though, this show is all over the place. I had fun with the adventurous high-jinks in episode four and was impressed by the handling of Marc's ultra-traumatic back story in episode five, but how well do these elements gel with each other? To put it in MasterChef terms, I enjoyed a lot of the ingredients on the plate, but it doesn't quite come together as a dish.

Also, the series creators have been so keen to be respectful about DID (formerly known as multiple personality disorder, but I guess that sounded too cool) that they risk falling into the old Poor Miss Finch trap of claiming their protagonist is better off with their severe affliction and should not look for a cure. I'm not sure how helpful this attitude is to real DID sufferers: it smacks of being respectful all the way to the asylum. Not that I usually care about that sort of thing, and as a drama the treatment of Marc's/Steven's mental troubles works well: quite apart from what's best for the hero, we as the audience want neither Marc nor Steven gone (especially not Steven). Only, this show should not give itself airs or pretend to be any better ethically than other fiction which has used DID/multiple personality disorder for thriller-like purposes.

Any interesting villains in this largely enjoyable mess, then? I've already mentioned Khonshu, who's a sort of villain – at least he exploits his "avatar" Marc/Steven without scruple. The head villain, though, is cult leader Arthur Harrow, played by Ethan Hawke. It's an excellent performance: Harrow is utterly convinced that he's on the side of good, and you can see how his earnestness could convince others, even if worshipping Ancient Egyptian Underworld helper Ammit (not Osiris or Anubis? OK) must be a tough sell. Not the kind of villain I appreciate the most, but all the same, good show.

Ms Marvel

Series set-up: Kamala Khan is a teenager in Jersey City with a Pakistani background who loves the Avengers, Captain Marvel especially. When she uses a bangle sent by her grandmother while cosplaying as Captain Marvel, she unleashes real superpowers. The neighbourhood wants to know more about its very own superhero, a government agency wants to apprehend and question the mysterious girl and a seemingly friendly group with similar powers makes contact with the overwhelmed Kamala.

Additional genres channelled: Coming-of-age story, Bend it Like Beckham-type comedy, period drama (briefly).

Overall impression: I didn't have high hopes for this series – even with a basis in the comics, it seemed like worthiness overload (comics can be worthy too). Kamala sounded like she was an inclusiveness project first and a character second. But I was willing to give the series a chance (after all, I really liked Bend it Like Beckham). Admittedly, I was not in the best of moods when watching the first episode, but I thought it felt pretty flat, and the second one too. The third episode had funnier dialogue and something close to a twist, which was welcome in this otherwise psychologically black-and-white show. Then Kamala goes to Pakistan for two episodes, and among other things, her family's memories of the Partition are explored. A surprising lot of shade is thrown at the British, seeing as it wasn't them who did the actual killing (it's not a good sign when a Doctor Who episode from the Chibnall era offers a more nuanced picture of the Partition than your show). Then we jet back to Jersey and a showdown where the principal villains are lacking. 

I'm used to disjointed Marvel TV shows by now, but this time I didn't like the separate ingredients as much as I did in Hawkeye and Moon Knight. Kamala herself is sweet and her family is charming and lovable (her dad especially, but I also like her brother whose piety doesn't stand in the way of him having his sister's back). But the local community good-government agents bad setup felt very simplistic. All the same, I enjoyed the Jersey City bits more than the "let's remember the Partition" segment. If you have fewer hang-ups about being lectured than me, enjoy coming-of-age stories with an ethnic flavour and don't mind some sugar-coating, chances are you'll like this series: like most Marvel products it's competently put together.

OK, but are there any interesting villains? A yummy British one maybe? Nope. I liked the introduction of the Clandestines as an oh-so-friendly group who then suddenly turn nasty quickly when they get impatient (perhaps too quickly: if they'd held their fire, Kamala would probably have helped them). But even the most prominent among them, Kamala's crush Kamran's mother Najma, has presence but is under-characterised. As for the government agents... pity Agent Deever, who is such a caricature she signals her cultural insensitivity by clomping into a mosque with her shoes on – twice. I would have respected the show if it had let her exude menace and authority at her second visit – all after having dutifully removed her shoes. That's the kind of style a villain needs.  

A villain-lover's guide to Marvel, Phase Four – the TV series, part one (from WandaVision to Loki)

Phew, there certainly have been a lot of Marvel TV series, haven't there? And I'm not even counting all the ones outside the MCU phases featuring various Marvel characters (I do watch Agents of SHIELD in stages on Disney +, and it's enjoyable – but very long, so I'll take my own sweet time finishing it). Even if I limit myself to the miniseries that have been part of Marvel Phase Four so far, I'm starting to realise that I still have to divide my overview to two posts (sorry). I'll also only discuss the live-action series – I have seen the animated TV series What If... and liked it, but I don't have that much to say about it.

The TV series, I believe, are meant for a wider audience than the movies. As they're on Disney +, Disney are naturally hoping to bring new viewers in, not just the die-hard superhero fans who will watch anything Marvel (within reason). They try to achieve this by connecting their MCU TV series to other genres as well as the superhero genre. As I was reeled into the MCU in spite of superhero scepticism and appreciate the characters and inherent nerdiness of the MCU films more than the large action set pieces, this tactic works quite well with me, but I can understand why truer Marvel fans feel a bit short-changed when it comes to the actual superhero-ing. Also, the genre mix often leads to conflicting tones and story beats within a series. 

WandaVision

Series set-up: Wanda Maximoff is living an idyllic life with her beloved android-husband Vision in the small town of Westview. But wait: isn't Vision dead? And why does the married couple's married life resemble episodes of old sit-coms? Something is very wrong here.

Additional genres channelled: Sit-com, mild supernatural chiller.  

Overall impression: As I mentioned in my Loki review, I think this is my favourite of the Marvel TV shows. I do love "something's wrong with this picture" set-ups, and the revelations about what's going on are cleverly paced out: instead of explaining everything at the end, which could lead to an anti-climax as the explanation is seldom as fascinating as the mystery, the series gives us a number of reveals half-way, with some mystery remaining until the last episodes. Wanda and Vision are a sweet couple, and you keep hoping against hope that there will be a way for them to be together – but not at any cost. I liked the side characters too – among them the rookie FBI agent who was tasked to supervise Scott Lang in The Ant-Man and the Wasp and Monica, the daughter of Captain Marvel's flying buddy, now all grown up and somewhat directionless after her mother's death and five years of being dusted out of existence.

Any interesting villains? YouTube being YouTube, the catchy jingle "It was Agatha All Along" is difficult to avoid. It's hardly a twist that Wanda's friendly if nosy neighbour Agnes turns out to be fishy: in fact she's a rival witch, Agatha Harkness, seeking to boost her powers. At the same time, the jingle actually lies. Agatha is in for the ride, but she is not the one controlling events. So is she really the main villain of the story?

On the one hand, I understand comic-book fans' frustration when Agatha's boss from the comics failed to materialise, as they had every reason to believe he would. On the other, I'm personally relieved, as I don't like when stories get too sulphur-y. On the third hand, there is something of av evil-mastermind-shaped hole in the story. Is Wanda the villain of her own show? Later developments would suggest yes, but there's someting unsatisfying about this conclusion. On the plus side, whether she's a big deal villain-wise or not, Kathryn Hahn's Agatha was hilarious and I enjoyed her very much. The standard Government Agent Threat is barely worth a mention, though he does prove to have a case.

Can I watch it without having seen all the MCU movies? Strangely enough, seeing that it's so different in tone from the movies, this makes for an awkward jumping-on point for MCU content. Because if you share Thanos's lack of knowledge about Wanda ("I don't even know who you are"), how much are you going to care about her and Vision's love story?

The Falcon and the Winter Soldier

Series set-up: Sam Wilson aka Falcon was handed Captain America's shield by Steve Rogers at the end of Endgame, but he feels it's impossible to fill his friend's shoes and donates the shield to a museum. To his consternation, however, a new Captain America is chosen by the government soon afterwards. Meanwhile, Bucky Barnes is trying to come to terms with his past as the brain-washed Hydra agent the Winter Soldier. The two team up against a terrorist group called The Flag Smashers. 

Additional genres channelled: Buddy-cop movie, political thriller.

Overall impression: Look, I like Sam. I like Bucky even more. But this was a preach-fest of a series. The revelation that there was another super soldier besides Steve Rogers, Isaiah Bradley, who ended up behind bars because of racism (he's black), felt very forced, and I didn't like the implication that Steve had it easy because he was a blue-eyed whitey, because he didn't. I understood why Steve gifted the shield to Sam in Endgame – Captain America has to be pure of heart, and Sam fitted that bill better than Bucky – but if Sam was going to get all weird about it, I agree with many fans that Bucky would have been a better choice.

And that's not all. We're meant to dislike the ersatz Captain America John Walker, but he seems a nice enough guy, and when he loses his temper and kills a Flag Smasher (with the shield – not the best PR) I for one could fully understand him. Sam and Bucky seem intent on feeling insulted by him when no insult is meant. On the other hand, the series tries to make us sympathise with the leader of the Flag Smashers, as Sam seems to do, but I wasn't on board for it (see below). In the finale, Sam downright lectures a group of senators for having failed to handle the re-appearance of half the population in a correct manner, but all the advice he has for them moving forward is "do better". Ugh. This is why superheroes should stay out of politics.

Any interesting villains? Well, Zemo returned, and was the saving grace of this series besides Bucky. He managed in his unobtrusive way to forward his goal of reducing the number of super-enhanced individuals in the world quite a bit, though why he has a grudge against super soldiers and the like rather than big human-hating robots is still a mystery to me.

But Karli Morgenthau, the girl-leader of the Flag Smashers, was really annoying. I have very little sympathy with self-righteous young girls whose wrong-headed efforts to make the world a better place according to them mean making it worse for a large chunk of the population who are not "on message". Karli rightdown kills people, but Sam is still irritatingly soft on her. In the side cast, we have the introduction of the Power Broker, but seeing as there was only one suspect who could possibly be the Power Broker it led to the biggest villain non-twist since Incredibles 2.

Can I watch it without having seen all the MCU movies? When it comes to the returning characters, I think it's possible to become engaged in Sam and Bucky without having seen the previous movies where they star. The political context is very MCU-specific though, so viewers who want to start their MCU viewing with this series probably need some sort of primer to realise what the conflicts are about.              

Loki

Series set-up: In Endgame, Loki managed to escape with the Tesseract (containing an Infinity Stone) when the Avengers travelled back in time. But he wasn't supposed to do that... Therefore, he's apprehended by an agency policing the timeline, the TVA, and threatened with "pruning". But a TVA agent saves him as he thinks that Loki could prove useful in stopping another, more dangerous, Loki variant.

Additional genres channelled: Buddy-cop movie; quippy, geeky sci-fi à la Doctor Who.

Overall impression: I'll refer to my review of the show here. In some ways, I was disappointed – my expectations were probably too high – but it was still an entertaining watch with plenty of Loki in it. I'm glad there will be a series two, and I might rewatch series one soon.

Any interesting villains? He took his time in making an appearance, but I really liked He Who Remains (actually a variant of the Marvel comic book villain Kang the Conqueror), played with a lot of verve by Jonathan Majors. A variant of Kang might actually turn out to be the next Big Bad in the MCU after Thanos, who knows? It will be hard to connect him to all the other stuff going on within Phase Four at the moment, though. The side-villains Judge Renslayer (played by Gugu Mbatha-Raw, Martha's sister in Doctor Who) and the scarily up-beat animated Miss Minutes were also good.

Can I watch it without having seen all the MCU movies? I'd recommend watching at least the Thor movies and the first Avengers movie before tackling this series. For a more detailed answer, see the end of this previous post.

Next time I dip into Marvel, I'll write about Hawkeye, Moon Knight and Ms Marvel. Preferably before She-Hulk airs.          

A villain-lover's guide to Marvel, Phase Four – the movies (up to and including Multiverse of Madness)

It's lucky I decided to catch up with the Marvel Cinematic Universe when I did last year, before their content output exploded. Now, it's hard enough to keep up in real time. The TV series on Disney + keep coming in a steady stream, and there have been quite a number of films (or movies – maybe a more fitting word as there's nothing more American than the MCU) as well. When you compare with the relatively modest scope of, say, Phase One, you start to wonder just how long Phase Four will be going on for, and just what will decide which movie goes into which phase now. Earlier, each phase was topped off with a big Avengers team-up movie: now, some of the Avengers are dead and the rest are scattered. Will the end of Phase Four be sealed with a new hero line-up? And what are the new phases building up to exactly? So far movies and TV series seem to be going in all sorts of directions, and if there's a new Big Bad on the horizon after Thanos, we haven't had a glimpse of him (or her) so far.

Generally, I've enjoyed the TV series of Phase Four (which I'll get to in a separate post) more than the movies, which have been a bit hit and miss. Another problem with the movies for me is that I don't have the endurance to watch them in the cinema, without loo breaks: they tend to be really long, and then there are always post-credit scenes which force you to wait around for ages while everyone remotely connected to the movie rolls past. (If it's so important that we watch the credits, how about making them shorter? We really don't need to know who did the accounts.) As a consequence, I wait until the movies are released on streaming, which means I'm still behindhand most of the time and have to look out to avoid spoilers (usually unsuccessfully). After all the wait and all the hype, it's easy to become disappointed. I'm getting this post out now, just before the cinema release of Thor: Love and Thunder, so I have an excuse for not having seen it yet.

Anyway, time to get down to it. I'll not pretend to think Loki might be in every film, because he's not:

Black Widow

Overall impression: I don't know what I was expecting – probably a straightforward origin story for Natasha Romanoff aka Black Widow which would explain some references in earlier films, for instance how she and Hawkeye became best buddies. Instead we got this: an underwhelming action adventure awkwardly placed timewise between Captain America: Civil War and Avengers: Infinity War. Natasha's fake family from an undercover mission way back (she does get a little back-story) are interesting and sometimes fun, especially her "sister" Yelena and "father" Alexei aka The Red Guardian (I found "mother" Melina's motives bewildering). This whole storyline had a lot of potential, but the whole setup of female agents ("widows") who are being mind-controlled by a drug held no interest for me. It would have been much more fascinating if they had been simply brainwashed, and had to be talked down and reasoned with, with remorse (hopefully) following. But no: the mind-control drug acquits the widows of any responsibility for their actions (it was all the fault of the nasty men) while their kick-ass abilities can still be highlighted. Convenient.

Also, I can well imagine Natasha regarding a kid as collateral damage while she was still a widow-agent, but not when she is trying to break free from the network and wipe the slate clean. And are they implying that Hawkeye (who never shows up in the movie, by the way) was in on a bombing which would claim the life of a child? Surely not.

How was the villain, then? Terrible. You'd be hard pressed to find an evil mastermind with less of a menacing presence or charisma than General Dreykov. He was obviously not meant to be interesting in his own right, but merely a symbol for the oppressive patriarchy – hence the obvious parallels to a certain former Hollywood producer. Who thought this was a type we needed to see as an MCU villain?

Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings

Overall impression: So, there's this hot villain, who with the help of magic artefacts gets special powers and immortality. Eventually he falls in love, and decides to put away the magic artefacts and live a normal family life. But then his beloved wife dies, he backslides, and the magic artefacts come back into play. Blinded by the wish to somehow be reunited with his wife, he can't be fully redeemed until he realises that there are others worthy of his consideration, and finally he gives his life for someone else, even at the risk of putting his soul in peril... Wait, don't I know this story?

The probably purely coincidental parallels to Once Upon A Time played a part in my liking of this film, but there are plenty of other things to enjoy as well. It's well-paced and often funny, the hero's sidekick Katy is endearing, and it wasn't always obvious what was going to happen next. I appreciated the reappearance of Trevor Slattery (Ben Kingsley) from Iron Man 3 and the cameo from Wong (who is perhaps a little overused in other MCU movies, but fun here). Shang-Chi himself comes across as a little bland compared with the colourful side cast and his impressive pa, but I imagine he'll have plenty of time to build up more of a presence in coming films. At least he's more of an asset than his sister Xialing, who, feeling neglected by her crimelord father as a girl, trained herself to be a just as good – or even better – fighter than her brother. This was really contrived, and what's worse, Xialing doesn't have much in the way of a personality except being good at fighting and not having any sense of humour. Personality beats kick-ass abilities – how many times do I have to say it? All in all, though, this is my favourite MCU Phase Four movie so far.

I take it by all this gushing that the villain was good? Ooh, yes. Wenwu (played by Tony Leung) is all a villain should be – intelligent, charming, complex, with a believable motive and ruthless when required. And did I mention that he's hot? My only quibble is that he objects to being called "The Mandarin" by ignorant Americans. That he didn't like Trevor's role portrayal is understandable, but there's nothing denigrating in the title The Mandarin – Wenwu wasn't being named after "a fruit", but after the European designation of a high Chinese official, whose orange/yellow robes then gave name to the fruit. It's no more offensive than to have a European criminal mastermind be called The Chancellor (could we make it happen, please?). Don't be a snowflake, hot stuff.

The Eternals

Overall impression: You will by now have heard a great deal about how boring this movie is. And guess what? It's true. A host of new superpowered characters are introduced, who supposedly arrived from space thousands of years ago and have helped humanity on its way ever since – but only when it serves the plot. The large cast of characters and vast time frame proves too much for the movie to bear, especially as the tone is what Germans would call bierernst (the solemnity that comes from drinking too much beer). Also, the MCU mythology that is set up where planets are created by giant celestial robots is just too ridiculous for me to stomach. I can take alien or interdimensional Odins, Zeuses and Osirises, but I can't swallow this. 

Having said that, if you have a severe cold (I watched the movie when I had covid), this is the ideal movie to watch: it goes on forever, makes no demands on your brain, and you can have a chuckle over how seriously everyone takes themselves. Also, I liked Kingo, the Bollywood star Eternal, and there were some nice scenes, like Kingo's and Sprite's conversation about Tinkerbell in Peter Pan.

How are the villains? Don't hold your breath. The CGI critters set up as the Eternals' arch-enemies, the Deviants, are obviously a side show, and the real threat is revealed to come from those giant celestial robots I mentioned. The infighting between the Eternals themselves is more interesting than big robots in the sky, but only just. Bring back Dormammu.

Spider-Man: No Way Home

Overall impression: Yes, I watched a Spider-Man movie! And not just one: in preparation for No Way Home, feeling something of a chump, I watched not only the two other MCU Spider-Man films with Tom Holland but also the Spider-Man trilogy directed by Sam Raimi, the two Amazing Spider-Man films and the animated Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse. That's an awful lot of Spideys. 

The homework paid off, though. With characters and callbacks from both the Raimi trilogy and the Amazing Spider-Man films, No Way Home makes a lot more sense and is more emotionally satisfying if you know the back-story not only of Tom Holland's Peter Parker, but Toby Maguire's and Andrew Garfield's versions as well (Into the Spider-Verse isn't really relevant here, but it was fun, so I don't regret watching it). Knowledge of their foes is also useful, as enemies of Peter Parker from other universes gatecrash MCU New York after one of Doctor Strange's spells goes wrong (he blames Peter).

But should you really have to watch a ton of Spider-Man films in order to be able to enjoy a movie like this? That's the question: if you've only watched the previous two Tom Holland movies, I think you'll be able to follow the story fine, but it will be less rewarding, if still entertaining. This movie is one for the fans, and for my part I'm not that keen on Spider-Man yarns, if I'm perfectly honest. Of course I like Peter Parker – he's a sweet boy/man in all the universes. But he also has the most rotten luck in all universes, which can be hard to watch. Plus we have the whole vigilante and secret identity thing, which were two reasons I was sceptical towards the superhero genre in the first place.

But the villains, are they any good? Yep. One of the reasons I made it through so many Spider-Man films is that the villains tend to be first-rate. I'm especially fond of Doc Oc and the Green Goblin from the Raimi films, but I also have a soft spot for the Lizard from The Amazing Spider-Man (perhaps partly because he's played by Rhys Ifans). With the exception of Electro, who's given a bit of a make-over in No Way Home, the villains tend to be more impressive in their original films than when they're guest-starring here. However, if you haven't watched all the Spidey films yet, the villain cameos can serve as a taster to help make up your mind whether you want to go deeper into the spider's web with non-MCU films.

Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness

Overall impression: I was really looking forward to this one. I love the whole concept of parallel universes and what if... scenarios, where sometimes tiny choices can lead to an alternate reality. If you've spent some time with structuralist historical theories, you appreciate world views – even fictional ones – where the power of the individual is given its due. Even so, perhaps it's harder than I imagined to make a good movie out of this promising concept. We end up not seeing a lot of the Multiverse, except in one fast montage. We only spend more time in two parallel universes – one that's already melting away, so we don't learn that much about it, and another which, if you scratch the surface, is not that different from ours.

Don't get me wrong, it's not a boring film. Benedict Cumberbatch gamely impersonates a few different Doctor Strange versions, including a sinister one who's quite fun; Elizabeth Olsen gives an intense and heartfelt performance as the troubled Wanda Maximoff aka The Scarlet Witch who's searching for family bliss at any cost; the pacing is brisk and you're kept on your toes. But it wasn't the alternate-reality trip I was expecting, and the story, while connecting to the events of the TV series WandaVision, didn't pay any attention to Wanda's character arc in the series. It would appear she learnt nothing from her Westview experiences, and while I felt sorry for her at the end of WandaVision, there were so many other ways her character could go which would have been more satisfying than the one shown here. The side characters are usually used as cannon fodder (the death count is high and some of the death scenes gruesome) and America Chavez, a girl who has the ability to open portals between universes and whom Doctor Strange tries to protect, is more of a plot point than a character.

Any interesting villains? Um... Let's just say that if you're waiting for a new Big Bad to appear, you'll be disappointed. It's someone we already know and, while an interesting character, I'm not convinced by the character's turn to villainy. I'm not sure the villain reveal is really meant to be a twist, but if it is, I've probably given away too much.

The (side)-villain problem of Obi-Wan Kenobi

It's difficult to know exactly what the general public thinks of the Disney + miniseries Obi-Wan Kenobi. From what I've seen, the reception has been mixed, and has depended on the expectations you had going in. If you were determined to like the series, you probably did like it all the way through, and felt especially vindicated by the strong finale. If you were determined to find that The Mouse "doesn't know Star Wars" and the studio was bound to screw things up, you might see the finale as too little too late, or even a tone-deaf attempt at fan service that didn't really understand the lore. The average fan, if I can take a guess, would probably find the beginning of the series slow but be won over by the last or the two last episodes, and find themselves reasonably satisfied at the end. I'm guessing this because I'm an average fan myself, and this is more or less where I landed.

I may be leaning a bit towards the over-positive side to be honest, because although I acknowledge that the build-up of the series was slow, I enjoyed this part too – at least, most of it. There were some storylines that fans weren't very happy with but which I gobbled up without complaint, while understanding their position. One was Obi-Wan's own role in the series. 

I think I've finally stumbled upon at least one reason why so many resent the portrayal of Luke in The Last Jedi. There are some characters you just don't want to get caught up in a Broken Hero story arc. This arc features someone who has been a hero once (or has the potential to be one) but who has become disillusioned and disheartened and doesn't want to enter the fray because he (it's mostly a he) thinks there's nothing he can do to make things better, and he may actually make things worse. As the story progresses, the Broken Hero learns to have faith in himself again, and finally he's strong enough to save the day. I had no problem seeing Luke go through the BH story arc in The Last Jedi or Obi-Wan going through it here, but I understand those who aren't too pleased, and who would rather see these characters at the peak of their heroic powers. They've been through and learned a lot already, do they really have to go on another hero's journey? 

I had pretty much the same feeling when watching the first three episodes of the latest Around the World in 80 Days and then giving up on it, in spite of having looked forward to a chance to see it. There were many reasons why, but one of them was the depiction of Phileas Fogg as a poor fish who had to be brought up to the mark by his companions. I can buy Fogg as an emotional cripple, but not as an emotional wreck. He should own the stage and not be a Broken Hero.

But, as I said, personally I didn't mind a broken Obi-Wan, especially as Ewan McGregor gave a stellar performance throughout as the haunted Jedi whose former Padawan now terrorises the galaxy. I also had no objections to the focus on young Leia, and the bond growing between her and Obi-Wan as he has to step in and rescue her (twice). Yes, it's strange that they don't seem to know each other at all in the Original Trilogy after having been on adventures together, but I think the series managed to explain that pretty neatly, and after all Leia later calls her son Ben, presumably after Obi-Wan's alias. There are already continuity problems between the OG trilogy and the Star Wars prequels, and in my opinion this series doesn't make them much worse.

However, I did mind the sometimes rushed storytelling where you weren't given explanations of things you really needed to know. How does Reva (I'll get to her) know Anakin Skywalker and Darth Vader are the same person? How can Obi-Wan be unaware that Vader (whom he knows to be Anakin) is still alive until Reva tells him? How does Leia know that the strange guy calling himself Ben is really Obi-Wan Kenobi? How does Reva survive two stab wounds with a light sabre, one when she's just a child? How does the Grand Inquisitor survive a stab wound (his species is supposed to have two stomachs, but this is never spelled out in the series)? How does Reva guess that Luke is really Vader's son, and if she didn't guess, then why did she want to kill him?

The other problem for me is the way the character of Reva is written. A member of the Inquisitors, a Force-sensitive group tasked by the Emperor to hunt down surviving Jedi, it's clear from the first – all too clear – that she has her own agenda. Moses Ingram, who plays Reva, is a good actor and does her best. She manages to put Reva's emotions across well enough during the easy-to-foresee story developments in the final two episodes to make her go from annoying to passable. But she can't do anything about the script, and in my opinion, Reva is a badly written character.

It might have been different if the series had allowed the viewer to take a sterner view of what is, in essence, a side villain, and see her as an example of everything that is wrong with the Sith creed. From the first, she is seething with resentment and wants to get "what I'm owed". So here we have a character who really is fuelled by anger, hate and vindictiveness, emotions the Emperor seeks to encourage in his followers, and they do her no good. But instead of highlighting this, the series gave at least me the impression that I was supposed to sympathise with Reva to a certain extent, to find it unfair when she is sneered at by the Grand Inquisitor when her methods, though brutal and unsubtle, give results, and to admire her badassery. I wasn't prepared to play ball here. The line between interesting bitterness in a villain and irritating self-pity can be a fine one, and for my money Reva crossed it with her constant hints at her own trauma (for instance during her interrogation of Leia) and blindness to just how much damage she caused in pursuit of "justice", i.e. her own revenge. Perhaps a corrective view where Obi-Wan or someone else pointed out how much she has gone astray would have helped, but as it is only other bad guys are allowed to criticise or question Reva, and we're not supposed to listen to them.

I would much rather have seen more of Rupert Friend's Grand Inquisitor, a cold, calculating and precise side-villain who could have filled the role of "major threat besides Vader" better than his emotion-ridden, disgruntled employee. In the end, though, and in spite of the fears of some fans, Obi-Wan remains the hero of his own series, and isn't elbowed out by Reva or any other character. And those waiting for an impressive showdown between Obi-Wan and Vader, leading to a highly charged emotional moment which allows Obi-Wan to move on from his guilt over "failing" Anakin, will not be disappointed. Just hang on in there.