They must be joking, right? A little while ago, BBC announced that they were going to do a new adaptation of Pride and Prejudice, and like - I suspect - at least 80% of the costume-drama viewing populace I reacted with profound scepticism. The Beeb completely nailed it last time they adapted P & P back in 1995 - the series, penned by costume drama supremo Andrew Davies and starring Jennifer Ehle and Colin Firth as Elizabeth and Darcy, was an instant classic. I have even heard it referred to by die-hard Pride and Prejudice fans as "PP2". So why on earth, when they've already got it right, would the BBC consider doing another?
Well, it has been 22 years, hard as that is to swallow. I realise that adapters can't be expected to keep their mitts off certain classics indefinitely only because they've once been done well. And considering that we watch the same plays over and over again with new casts, why are things so different when it comes to TV and film adaptations of the same material, which will after all not be identical to each other? Why shouldn't there be twenty Oliver Twists, if there are twenty good Fagins to be had?
I think that part of the reason so many of us are irritated when TV channels or even film-makers churn out yet another version of a work that has already been done to death, and where there exists a near-flawless adaptation already, is that the budget for new period drama is bound to be limited. TV spokesmen don't tend to be over-fond of "bonnet dramas" anyway - the new P & P is already billed, absurdly, as less "bonnet-y" and more "dark" (honestly, what's next? A "dark" Winnie the Pooh?). They will tolerate a few of these dramas per year, but if one costume drama project goes ahead, it is safe to assume that it is at the expense of others that do not. And there are so many books that would make wonderful costume dramas, where adaptations have not been attempted for ages if ever. Dombey and Son is an example I keep coming back to: the 1983 adaptation is so creaky that, in spite of Paul Darrow's delectable Carker, I feel unable to recommend it to anyone but the most nerdy and patient Dickens nut. The most aggravating thing is that a Davies adaptation of this novel in the same vein as his Bleak House and Little Dorrit was actually commissioned, then axed (I have already whined about this at length). There are other examples of neglected adaptable novels, closer to Austen in genre, as mentioned in this Telegraph article (though I admit I couldn't get through Evelina myself). However, if a novel's title isn't already known to the public, then it's far less likely to make it to production. But a new Pride and Prejudice? That they can do.
Which leads us to another irritant: that it actually seems as if it's more likely that a novel will be adapted if a good film or TV version already exists, because then it will be more well-known - thanks to the already existing adaptation. I doubt that the 2002 Forsyte Saga TV series would have been made if hadn't been for the classic 1967 version with Eric Porter, or that they would have done a film of Brideshead Revisited if it hadn't been for the practically perfect TV series with Jeremy Irons and Anthony Andrews (especially as the film showed none of the understanding for its source material that was apparent in the TV version). It's a game of ever decreasing circles. And honestly, how do you think they came up with the idea of doing Poldark? Because the novels are so great? Somehow I doubt it - I may be underestimating their literary qualities, but I suspect the reason for the new Poldark TV series is - the old Poldark TV series.
Some novels can bear over-adapting better than others, because there are so many dimensions and perhaps previously neglected sub-plots to bring to light. I can't pretend I'm wildly excited about the prospect of yet another Les Misérables adaptation (by Davies - surely his time could be better used?), but at least there is a wealth of material there which couldn't be addressed at length in either the latest film versions or the musical, and the French TV version with Gérard Depardieu was frankly a bit hit and miss. But the plot of Pride and Prejudice isn't that complex, and the existing TV adaptation covered most aspects of it. True, Mrs Bennet could do with being less ridiculed, seeing as her fears of a penniless future for her daughters if they do not marry are entirely realistic. But we had a less caricatured Mrs B in the latest film, as in Lost in Austen which played around with the P & P plot... Yep, Darcy and company have already had a lot of outings.
The trend for British newly-scripted costume dramas seems to have stopped of late, and what with these unimaginative new projects on the go, I do wonder what the future will bring. Still, last time I was really despondent about period dramas, Downton showed up on the horizon, so no need to fret yet. Maybe the Yanks will come up with something juicy for us? I mean, if they can do other genres so well (and import Brits for the all-important villain parts)...
onsdag 30 augusti 2017
onsdag 16 augusti 2017
The negative virtues of Game of Thrones (first look)
All the hype finally got to me, and finally I felt I had to give Game of Thrones (the TV series, that is) a go. So, years after everyone else, I've now watched half of the first season - and I feel strangely pleased that it's not better.
I had a lot of acknowledged fears about Game of Thrones - that it would prove a complete waste of time, that it would be impossibly grim and gory or that I would be fool enough to fall for one of its universally hated villains. But one unacknowledged fear, that I only admitted to after it was done away with, was that it would actually turn out to be a masterpiece of a series, and unquestionably superior to Once Upon A Time quality-wise. I would then be in the same position as with Great Expectations vs David Copperfield or Upstairs Downstairs (the original series) vs Downton Abbey: I would have to admit through gritted teeth that the first alternative is better objectively speaking, while in my heart of hearts preferring the second alternative because of its more satisfying villain content.
Luckily, Game of Thrones isn't that great. The plotting is often clichéd, the characterisation (so far) crude and the dialogue heavy-footed. What's more, a comparison with Once isn't really a given - the two series may both belong to the fantasy genre, but they have little in common otherwise. Game of Thrones concentrates on political intrigues; yes, there be dragons (not that I've seen any yet), and probably magic too, but the fantasy trappings are peripheral to the story, and you get no fairy-tale vibes at all. GoT actually has more in common with slightly ponderous period dramas than with most fantasy yarns Ive seen. It's like The Tudors, but with made-up characters - which some would argue makes it exactly like The Tudors.
So, how does it hold up as a Tudor-esque drama in its own right? I find it has other negative virtues, apart from the important one of not being better than Once:
It's not orcs-vs-elves fantasy: I have some problems with the fantasy genre, which is why I haven't really read that many books belonging to it, though I'll gladly watch a film or TV programme with a fantasy theme. Fantasy so often ends up as a fairy-tale with all the fun somehow sucked out of it. I think the trouble may be that fantasy writers, in their eagerness to impose some sort of order and method into the lawless lands of fairy tales, oversimplify matters and divide their imagined world into good, beautiful magical creatures like elves and unicorns vs bad, ugly magical creatures like trolls and orcs. In the frequent battle scenes, it's not hard to spot which is the army supporting truth and light. This is a lot less interesting than fairy-tale figures, who tend to have their own agenda and aren't lined up in some larger, overblown fight of Good vs Evil. Some of them may be more mischievous than others, but there's no fail-safe rule as to whether you'll end up better or worse for encountering them. I bet the poor girl who was left coughing up toads as a punishment for being rude didn't think the fairy who cursed her was particularly "good".
All of which has absolutely nothing to do with Game of Thrones, and that's one of its advantages - it doesn't use the plot setup of The Lion, the Witch And the Wardrobe, Harry Potter or The Lord of the Rings. Its protagonists are humans - not the most complex you'll encounter, true, but at least not impossibly noble harbingers of light or confusedly motivated minions of evil.
The characters aren't too engaging: In GoT, apparently, you have to be prepared for key characters being sliced and diced at a moment's notice. I've heard it argued that this is a big point in favour of the series: it adds real jeopardy to the scenarios played out. I can see where this argument is coming from. The fight scenes in The Musketeers would have been more exciting if there had been any chance that one of the Musketeers might actually cop it. Also, there are times, in my favourite TV programmes, where I've sighed a bit over "miracle saves" where characters who should be gone geese climb back from certain death or even come back from the dead because they're too popular to kill off (though sometimes, of course, this plot device feels completely justified...). To pick a fairly uncontroversial example, bringing Clara in Doctor Who back after she'd faced a suitably heroic and affecting death in "Face the Raven" was unnecessary in my book - we would have been able to handle the loss, and so would the Doctor.
Here's the thing, though. When you really, truly care about a character - when they may, in fact, be one of the main reasons you are watching a TV series in the first place - your first reaction to a random killing off of this character won't be "oh, what fresh and daring storytelling". It will be "sorry, what?!". Blood sacrifices are necessary sometimes in a TV series, for plot reasons or absconding actor reasons. But adding deaths simply to add "edginess" and a "who lives and who dies" factor? I don't know.
Happily, I don't much care whether the characters in GoT get sliced and diced or not. They're not interesting enough for that. Tyrion Lannister's likeable enough - you can see why he's a fan favourite, as he's what passes for a fully-rounded character in this story. But much of his appeal is down to Peter Dinklage's laid-back cynicism in the role, and even Dinklage struggles with a script that could have done with being a whole lot funnier. Other clever characters, like Lord "Littlefinger" Baelish and sort-of-spy-chief Varys, also lack a certain bite in their banter. Elsewhere, you see familiar tropes like The Noble Outsider Youth or The Girl Who Wants To Fight, Not To Marry. They're nice, I suppose, but if they get killed off, I won't be heartbroken.
The villains are decidedly not seductive: I would usually not count this as a virtue, but I have my reasons not to look for a new villain crush right now - I'm quite happy with the one I've got, thank you very much. And even if I were on the prowl, I would not like to fall prey to someone who risked making a "Top Ten Hated Characters in Television" list, which tends to be the case with GoT baddies.
No fear, though, because boy are the villains one-note so far. Prince Joffrey's a whiny brat who can be relied upon to behave in the most reprehensible way imaginable in any given scenario - because that's what his plot function is. A Draco Malfoy haircut can't save him, nor can comely Harry Lloyd save Viserys Targaryen from being anything else than the pathetic shit who pimps his sister to a savage war lord in order to get an army and then spends the rest of his time being spectacularly ungrateful. (Granted, the sister is tiresome.) True, I've not come across Charles Dance in armour yet - here's hoping he won't test my resolve.
I know all this is damning with faint praises, but I'll say this much for GoT: I enjoy it more than The Tudors or The White Queen. But guys, don't think we straight women viewers don't notice all those gratuitous brothel scenes and bare-chested lovelies. I'm not averse to objectifying myself - villain snogging scenes are always appreciated (though not in a GoT context) - but it hardly makes a series a grand work of art, now, does it?
I had a lot of acknowledged fears about Game of Thrones - that it would prove a complete waste of time, that it would be impossibly grim and gory or that I would be fool enough to fall for one of its universally hated villains. But one unacknowledged fear, that I only admitted to after it was done away with, was that it would actually turn out to be a masterpiece of a series, and unquestionably superior to Once Upon A Time quality-wise. I would then be in the same position as with Great Expectations vs David Copperfield or Upstairs Downstairs (the original series) vs Downton Abbey: I would have to admit through gritted teeth that the first alternative is better objectively speaking, while in my heart of hearts preferring the second alternative because of its more satisfying villain content.
Luckily, Game of Thrones isn't that great. The plotting is often clichéd, the characterisation (so far) crude and the dialogue heavy-footed. What's more, a comparison with Once isn't really a given - the two series may both belong to the fantasy genre, but they have little in common otherwise. Game of Thrones concentrates on political intrigues; yes, there be dragons (not that I've seen any yet), and probably magic too, but the fantasy trappings are peripheral to the story, and you get no fairy-tale vibes at all. GoT actually has more in common with slightly ponderous period dramas than with most fantasy yarns Ive seen. It's like The Tudors, but with made-up characters - which some would argue makes it exactly like The Tudors.
So, how does it hold up as a Tudor-esque drama in its own right? I find it has other negative virtues, apart from the important one of not being better than Once:
It's not orcs-vs-elves fantasy: I have some problems with the fantasy genre, which is why I haven't really read that many books belonging to it, though I'll gladly watch a film or TV programme with a fantasy theme. Fantasy so often ends up as a fairy-tale with all the fun somehow sucked out of it. I think the trouble may be that fantasy writers, in their eagerness to impose some sort of order and method into the lawless lands of fairy tales, oversimplify matters and divide their imagined world into good, beautiful magical creatures like elves and unicorns vs bad, ugly magical creatures like trolls and orcs. In the frequent battle scenes, it's not hard to spot which is the army supporting truth and light. This is a lot less interesting than fairy-tale figures, who tend to have their own agenda and aren't lined up in some larger, overblown fight of Good vs Evil. Some of them may be more mischievous than others, but there's no fail-safe rule as to whether you'll end up better or worse for encountering them. I bet the poor girl who was left coughing up toads as a punishment for being rude didn't think the fairy who cursed her was particularly "good".
All of which has absolutely nothing to do with Game of Thrones, and that's one of its advantages - it doesn't use the plot setup of The Lion, the Witch And the Wardrobe, Harry Potter or The Lord of the Rings. Its protagonists are humans - not the most complex you'll encounter, true, but at least not impossibly noble harbingers of light or confusedly motivated minions of evil.
The characters aren't too engaging: In GoT, apparently, you have to be prepared for key characters being sliced and diced at a moment's notice. I've heard it argued that this is a big point in favour of the series: it adds real jeopardy to the scenarios played out. I can see where this argument is coming from. The fight scenes in The Musketeers would have been more exciting if there had been any chance that one of the Musketeers might actually cop it. Also, there are times, in my favourite TV programmes, where I've sighed a bit over "miracle saves" where characters who should be gone geese climb back from certain death or even come back from the dead because they're too popular to kill off (though sometimes, of course, this plot device feels completely justified...). To pick a fairly uncontroversial example, bringing Clara in Doctor Who back after she'd faced a suitably heroic and affecting death in "Face the Raven" was unnecessary in my book - we would have been able to handle the loss, and so would the Doctor.
Here's the thing, though. When you really, truly care about a character - when they may, in fact, be one of the main reasons you are watching a TV series in the first place - your first reaction to a random killing off of this character won't be "oh, what fresh and daring storytelling". It will be "sorry, what?!". Blood sacrifices are necessary sometimes in a TV series, for plot reasons or absconding actor reasons. But adding deaths simply to add "edginess" and a "who lives and who dies" factor? I don't know.
Happily, I don't much care whether the characters in GoT get sliced and diced or not. They're not interesting enough for that. Tyrion Lannister's likeable enough - you can see why he's a fan favourite, as he's what passes for a fully-rounded character in this story. But much of his appeal is down to Peter Dinklage's laid-back cynicism in the role, and even Dinklage struggles with a script that could have done with being a whole lot funnier. Other clever characters, like Lord "Littlefinger" Baelish and sort-of-spy-chief Varys, also lack a certain bite in their banter. Elsewhere, you see familiar tropes like The Noble Outsider Youth or The Girl Who Wants To Fight, Not To Marry. They're nice, I suppose, but if they get killed off, I won't be heartbroken.
The villains are decidedly not seductive: I would usually not count this as a virtue, but I have my reasons not to look for a new villain crush right now - I'm quite happy with the one I've got, thank you very much. And even if I were on the prowl, I would not like to fall prey to someone who risked making a "Top Ten Hated Characters in Television" list, which tends to be the case with GoT baddies.
No fear, though, because boy are the villains one-note so far. Prince Joffrey's a whiny brat who can be relied upon to behave in the most reprehensible way imaginable in any given scenario - because that's what his plot function is. A Draco Malfoy haircut can't save him, nor can comely Harry Lloyd save Viserys Targaryen from being anything else than the pathetic shit who pimps his sister to a savage war lord in order to get an army and then spends the rest of his time being spectacularly ungrateful. (Granted, the sister is tiresome.) True, I've not come across Charles Dance in armour yet - here's hoping he won't test my resolve.
I know all this is damning with faint praises, but I'll say this much for GoT: I enjoy it more than The Tudors or The White Queen. But guys, don't think we straight women viewers don't notice all those gratuitous brothel scenes and bare-chested lovelies. I'm not averse to objectifying myself - villain snogging scenes are always appreciated (though not in a GoT context) - but it hardly makes a series a grand work of art, now, does it?
onsdag 2 augusti 2017
Goodbye to a brainy male hero
Apologies for going down the doctorish road again, but I just can't wait until Peter Capaldi's last Christmas special (which we foreigners don't get to see until well into the new year anyway) before posting some final thoughts on the Capaldi era. Whatever adventure his Doctor is going on this Christmas together with the very first Doctor (with David Bradley taking over the William Hartnell role), it feels likely that the finale of series ten is where we say a proper goodbye to Number Twelve - the Christmas two-Doctor caper being more of a lap of honour.
This series delivered all the way through. Bill Potts (Pearl Mackie) continued to be a great companion, and comedian pro Matt Lucas managed to keep comic relief Nardole from becoming annoying - also, it was a nice touch that for all his apparent goofiness, he was actually more reasonable and responsible than the Doctor himself. Missy as played by Michelle Gomez was great entertainment value, as in series eight and nine, and even when she showed signs of being ready for redemption it wasn't too much or too soppy. Moffat latched on to the idea of two old friends with vastly different moral outlooks who for all that really wanted to find a way to save their friendship and ran with it. Adding another layer to this relationship, John Simm turned up again as the previous incarnation of The Master (I don't think it can be regarded as a spoiler anymore that The Master and Missy - short for The Mistress- are one and the same), who had no interest in reconciliation with the Doctor whatsoever. The dynamic between the two Masters, and between each of them and the Doctor, was a thrill to watch. And of course Capaldi was superlative throughout. Let's face it, whoever was going to succeed him would have suffered from the fact of not being Capaldi. More of this anon.
I know Steven Moffat's twisty plots can get on some people's nerves, and I do see their point. For all their cleverness, there are loose ends that never get properly tied up, and I have occasionally found Moffat too smart-alecky myself - with the overlong story-arcs for the Eleventh Doctor, for instance. But I'm really going to miss him. The finale of this series, World Enough and Time/The Doctor Falls, was as gripping as ever, and full of the trademark witty dialogue which has the pleasing side-effect of making the viewer feel clever for appreciating it. (Not all of it was equally good though - that bacon sandwich conversation? For shame.) But once again, I wonder about the younger audience that Doctor Who is supposed to have. Are there any of them left? World Enough and Time was particularly grim, almost like a horror film at times. This is not what I'd consider family viewing - having said that, it works for me.
What's next, then? I must confess that the news that the new Doctor was going to be a woman did not leave me jumping for joy. However, the Master's sex change worked out all right, and I'm willing to give the Thirteenth Doctor a chance. I've not seen Jodie Whittaker in anything else that I can remember (she was in Cranford, apparently, but I don't recall her character), but judging by looks alone she's the right type for a female Time Lord - serene and intelligent-looking. Still, I can't help wondering why making the Doctor a woman was necessary. The thing is, there are plenty of engaging heroines in TV shows already, not least in Doctor Who. Strong women are all the rage, and they tend to have plenty of smarts as well. Brainy heroes, on the other hand, are harder to come by. The Doctor was one of the few who could measure up intelligence-wise with the average villain. When he tries to explain his attachment to Missy to Bill, he says that Missy is the only one who is even remotely like him. Turning the argument around, the Doctor is if not the only then one of the very few heroes I can think of who is even remotely like a villain - while at the same time trying to do the right thing. Those who claim that boys will lose a role model have a point; while far from perfect, the Doctor is a good male character who is also clever, which makes a nice change considering the more-brawny-than-brainy heroes you usually find enacted on your average playground.
Still, I'll let hero-fanciers worry about this. We villain-lovers will never be short of brainy characters to engage with. Come to the dark side: we still have clever, Scottish cookies.
This series delivered all the way through. Bill Potts (Pearl Mackie) continued to be a great companion, and comedian pro Matt Lucas managed to keep comic relief Nardole from becoming annoying - also, it was a nice touch that for all his apparent goofiness, he was actually more reasonable and responsible than the Doctor himself. Missy as played by Michelle Gomez was great entertainment value, as in series eight and nine, and even when she showed signs of being ready for redemption it wasn't too much or too soppy. Moffat latched on to the idea of two old friends with vastly different moral outlooks who for all that really wanted to find a way to save their friendship and ran with it. Adding another layer to this relationship, John Simm turned up again as the previous incarnation of The Master (I don't think it can be regarded as a spoiler anymore that The Master and Missy - short for The Mistress- are one and the same), who had no interest in reconciliation with the Doctor whatsoever. The dynamic between the two Masters, and between each of them and the Doctor, was a thrill to watch. And of course Capaldi was superlative throughout. Let's face it, whoever was going to succeed him would have suffered from the fact of not being Capaldi. More of this anon.
I know Steven Moffat's twisty plots can get on some people's nerves, and I do see their point. For all their cleverness, there are loose ends that never get properly tied up, and I have occasionally found Moffat too smart-alecky myself - with the overlong story-arcs for the Eleventh Doctor, for instance. But I'm really going to miss him. The finale of this series, World Enough and Time/The Doctor Falls, was as gripping as ever, and full of the trademark witty dialogue which has the pleasing side-effect of making the viewer feel clever for appreciating it. (Not all of it was equally good though - that bacon sandwich conversation? For shame.) But once again, I wonder about the younger audience that Doctor Who is supposed to have. Are there any of them left? World Enough and Time was particularly grim, almost like a horror film at times. This is not what I'd consider family viewing - having said that, it works for me.
What's next, then? I must confess that the news that the new Doctor was going to be a woman did not leave me jumping for joy. However, the Master's sex change worked out all right, and I'm willing to give the Thirteenth Doctor a chance. I've not seen Jodie Whittaker in anything else that I can remember (she was in Cranford, apparently, but I don't recall her character), but judging by looks alone she's the right type for a female Time Lord - serene and intelligent-looking. Still, I can't help wondering why making the Doctor a woman was necessary. The thing is, there are plenty of engaging heroines in TV shows already, not least in Doctor Who. Strong women are all the rage, and they tend to have plenty of smarts as well. Brainy heroes, on the other hand, are harder to come by. The Doctor was one of the few who could measure up intelligence-wise with the average villain. When he tries to explain his attachment to Missy to Bill, he says that Missy is the only one who is even remotely like him. Turning the argument around, the Doctor is if not the only then one of the very few heroes I can think of who is even remotely like a villain - while at the same time trying to do the right thing. Those who claim that boys will lose a role model have a point; while far from perfect, the Doctor is a good male character who is also clever, which makes a nice change considering the more-brawny-than-brainy heroes you usually find enacted on your average playground.
Still, I'll let hero-fanciers worry about this. We villain-lovers will never be short of brainy characters to engage with. Come to the dark side: we still have clever, Scottish cookies.
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