COVID 19 Friday Five: Even More ISO TV

I would watch Keeley Hawes in anything; so would Richard Madden in Bodyguard

As we have continued our strange year, I have been watching TV series in groups; trying to mix up the comedy, tragedy, period drama and police procedural. This is a snapshot of some of that.

5 TV Shows Recently Watched:

1. Bodyguard (7plus) - I think Keeley Hawes is excellent and will happily watch her in anything from Life on Mars or Line of Duty to The Missing or The Durrells, so when I saw she had a starring role in a British police political thriller, I wasn't going to miss it. The Jed Mercurio-written drama has garnered rave reviews and high ratings from critics and viewers alike. Hawes is Julia Montague, the Home Secretary battling corrupt politicians, international terrorism and secret schemes to overthrow the government. Richard Madden is David Budd, the special protection officer who is charged with keeping her safe, but he has issues of his own, including PTSD from Afghanistan, burning resentment and a tendency towards anger. Nothing is as apparent as it seems, and story arcs are not always concluded in conventional ways - sometimes irritatingly so - but it is both bright and dark, and ultimately binge-worthy.
2. Dracula (BBC One and Netflix) - sexy and hysterical; the three-part series is as if three different script-writers and directors had a go at bringing together a story. In truth, the drama-horror series was developed and written by Mark Gatiss and Steven Moffat, but there is indeed a different director for each installment (Jonny Campbell; Damon Thomas; Paul McGuigan). We follow Dracula (Claes Bang) from his origins in Eastern Europe to his battles with Van Helsing (Dolly Wells) and her descendants. It's all slick and sensual, but the middle episode, confined to a boat with a claustrophobic sense of impending doom and psychological terror, is my clear favourite.
3. Sex Education (Netflix) - We binged two whole seasons of this show one wet weekend, and I'm still trying to work out why I was so invested in watching a series about teenagers and their hormones. Forays into adulthood are fraught with angst and we all remember our own with less than fondness, so to watch others deal with feelings, emotions and sexual expectations is probably better than having to relive our own experiences. Asa Butterfield stars as an insecure young lad at a highly progressive high school doling out advice he has gleaned from his sex therapist mother, Gillian Anderson, who has her own unresolved relationship conflicts. Although it is a British series (created by Laurie Nunn; a variety of British accents; filmed in Wales), the aesthetic is highly mixed with an American-style high school and education system, but beautiful British scenery and sensitivity. The time period in which it is set is also deliberately disorientating with many modern references, but fashion, decor and bicycles from the 80s. It's an intriguing and generous mash-up; sort of like The Breakfast Club meets Gregory's Girl. Strangely recommended.



Michael Sheen and David Tennant in the lockdown drama for our times



4. Staged (ABC iview) - And now, for our times, this is a lock-down comedy about actors who desperately want to act, but the theatres are closed, so they take out their frustrations and their theatrical rivalries over Zoom meetings. David Tennant and Michael Sheen play hyper-real versions of themselves which are equally irritating and fabulous. The six episodes are only fifteen minutes long (the perfect length for a Zoom call) and prove that you can pack a lot in if you know what you are doing. The pair were due to star in a production of Six Characters in Search of an Author on the West End but the pandemic has put paid to that. Not wanting to let this opportunity slip through his fingers, their director Simon Evans (who also wrote the script) attempts to get them to rehearse over the internet, if only they can overcome their distractions, boredom and egos to read the first scene. There are some brilliant cameo appearances from Samuel L. Jackson, Nina Sosanya, Adrian Lester and Dame Judi Dench, and evidence-based research (Him Outdoors and me) proves this is entertaining fare for theatre and non-theatre types alike.
5.  Vanity Fair (BBC First) - I love the novel; I love the character of Becky Sharp; and I love this adaptation by writer Gwyneth Hughes. Olivia Cooke is bold and beguiling (unlike many insipid heroines of period drama) and all her relationships, with Amelia (Claudia Jessie), Jos (David Fynn), George (Charlie Rowe), Rawdon (Tom Bateman), Martha (Sian Clifford), Sir Pitt (Martin Clunes), and Aunt Matilda (Frances de la Tour) are honest and brilliantly played. It's colourful and gaudy and breathtakingly bedazzling. The fact that each episode is opened by a top-hatted Michael Palin orchestrating the carousel at the titular carnival can't do any harm either.

Olivia Cooke is brilliant as Becky Sharp in Vanity Fair

An Age Old Question: The Devil and Miss Prym

The Devil and Miss Prym by Paulo Coelho
Thorsons
Pp. 201

Leo Tolstoy is said to have said, “All great literature is one of two stories; a man goes on a journey or a stranger comes to town.” This is the latter of those two options, and its claim to great literature is subjective, but the author has sold over 175 million of his books worldwide. One day a stranger comes to the town of Viscos (spoiler alert: he is the devil of the title) with a backpack containing twelve bars of gold. He offers one of them to Chantal (the Miss Prym of the title) on the condition that she communicates to the villagers that they will receive the other eleven if they commit a murder.

In essence it is a very simple morality tale; are people intrinsically good or evil? The basic prose may be a matter of translation from the original Portuguese (Coelho is Brazilian) but it suits the elements of fable, incorporating many parables. As it is a philosophical conceit, the narrator is omniscient, the characters are ciphers, and the events are unrealistic. It is cerebral rather than emotional; designed to make the reader think rather than feel.

The village of Viscos is remote and irrelevant, chosen deliberately by the stranger for his experiment. He wants to pit the villagers against each other, knowing that they are all in desperate financial straits and would welcome a windfall. It does not matter to the stranger whom the villagers choose to murder, only that they commit the act, and therefore, this is also an exploration of the conflict between the individual and society. “The story of one man is the story of all men. I need to know if we are good or evil.” Most cultures and religions have tales of the eternal struggle between good and evil. A Native American myth posits that we all contain two wolves; a kind and gentle one and a fierce and vicious one. The one that survives is the one we feed. This is incorporated into the metaphor of the rogue wolf which stalks the forest and terrorises the villagers, keeping them afraid. Many religions also have “a place of punishment, where the immortal soul goes after committing certain crimes against society (everything seemed to be in terms of society, rather than of the individual).”

The fundamental question is whether we are intrinsically good or bad, and what makes us this way. Coelho suggests that we are only good due to the fear of consequences. The stranger says, “I am a man who walks the earth with a devil at his side; in order to drive him away or accept him for once and for all, I need to know the answers to certain questions.” He chose Chantal because she is orphaned and searching for a way to escape her dull life in the village, but she wants someone to rescue her rather than acting for herself. She has several meetings with the stranger – as a single woman these may cause consternation but she has no one to protect her morality and can do as she please. She realises, however, that she too is bound by the fear of the future.

The metaphysical problem is described as game theory – gambling on the actions of others in order to protect yourself. It’s an old conundrum and one that doesn’t really have an answer. Chance exists and bad things happen to good people (the story of Job from the Old Testament is included along with many other myths and legends); perhaps we need the hope to carry on, like the widowed Berta, who sits outside her house every day watching the villagers and commenting on their action with her dead husband. The problem with the severely pedagogic tone is that it leaves little for the reader to do. Just as Chantal is trapped in the village, we are trapped in this narrative and will only be released when Coelho has finished with his lecture.

Friday Five: Floriade Re-Imagined

I have written about Floriade before on more than one occasion. This year, what with one thing and another, it would obviously have been irresponsible to have planted all the bulbs in one place and invited people to come and see them en masse and potentially spread disease. Instead, the Floriade Reimagined Horticultural Team, together with more than 90 community groups, planted blooms across the city in 130 different sites. 

This is a delightful way to introduce colour to the suburbs and to encourage public participation; events are not just for tourists and can be on your front door step. I really appreciated this community engagement and, while I didn't hunt down the locations that were clearly marked on the tulip trail, I did stumble across one or two sites by accident, which was a pleasant surprise. 

1. Margaret Timpson Park, Belconnen

Spot the garden gnome

2. Town Square, Woden

3. A Friend's House

Not an official location, but I did get to see Floyd (yes, he's called that because he's pink)

4. Woden Town Park, Woden

5. My Garden

Again, not an official location, but they are very pretty

Impressions of Paris: Honore-Victorin Daumier

Some time ago I went to an exhibition at the National Gallery of Australia called Impressions of Paris: Lautrec, Degas, Daumier. These men, each a generation apart, are credited with being consummate draughtsmen whose innovative compositions and embrace of modern subject matter played a significant role in artistic developments in France over the nineteenth century.

I have previously seen a lot of Lautrec and Degas, but I was not so familiar with Honoré-Victorin Daumier, although it is clear to see, looking at his prints and lithographs, how he inspired the later artists. During the 1800s Paris had witnessed the remarkable growth of the popular press. The technique of lithography, invented at the turn of the eighteenth century, was adopted by practicing artists as it was a printmaking technique conducive to drawing freely and directly.

Daumier's knowledge of the Romantic artists, including Delacroix is evident in these sometimes complex structural arrangements of figures, and the sense of movement in the compositions. His understanding and application of the lessons learnt from the study of earlier artists sets him apart from other less talented caricaturists of his era. 

Battle between the schools: Idealism vs Realism from Le Charivari, 24 April 1855

For publishers of newspapers, lithography allowed for larger print runs compared to earlier printing methods. Newspapers and journals began to include serialisation of novels by writers like Emile Zola as well as caricatures by artists such as Daumier, which were often satiric and of a contemporary social or political nature. All of these factors helped to sell newspapers and journals to a growing and appreciative audience. 

Many of Daumier's caricatures reveal his mastery of depicting the human figure, his skill in foreshortening and ability to suggest movement. Daumier created a huge pool of imagery in his many witty, sometimes acerbic, series of themes devoted to French society, produced over many years. 

The orchestra during the performance of a tragedy from Le Charivari, 5 April 1852

The generation of French artists who followed Daumier in the nineteenth century were inspired by his observations, which became an extraordinary reservoir of ideas. Both Degas and then Lautrec were enthusiastic admirers of French caricature, delighting in its animated qualities, stylistic freedoms and contemporary themes. 

Degas was much taken with Daumier's skill as a draughtsman, and held him in high regard. He was particularly inspired by his interest in physiognomy (including the theory that appearance reveals character), his expressive qualities and modern themes, many of which Degas then adapted. Lautrec also assimilated lessons from Degas, borrowing themes and compositions from his idol. Lautrec admired and emulated Degas, which is evident in his compositions of drinkers at bars, dancers on stage, cabaret scenes and courtesans. 

A queen preparing for her big speech from Le Charivari, 24 September 1856

One thing I did find interesting is that for all his innovation and political freedom, Daumier still was far from believing in granting equality to half of the human race. He did not see assertive women as seekers of liberty and equality; rather they represented an aspect of self-obsessed bourgeois behaviour. In the series, Blue Stockings, educated women and aspiring authors  appear to be oblivious to the predicament of a child in an upturned bucket or to fellow readers in a library.

The mother is in the fire of composition, the baby is in the water of the bath from Le Charivari, 26 February 1844 

Women railing for their right to divorce and justice are seen as formidable figures in the full fury of their quest, or in celebratory mode toasting their emancipation. And women smoking after attending the public baths also satirise the 'new woman' of France.

 

A toast to the emancipation of Women, being drunk by women who are already tremendously emancipated from Le Charivari, 12 October 1848 

Daumier's legacy may have a been a brilliant journalistic record of the modern capital as he contributed to an era in France ripe for a new art, but he wasn't prepared to stray too far from convention. As far as he was concerned, art, emancipation, literature and life were still clearly boys' clubs.

Playing the Gothic Game: The Turn of the Screw

The Turn of the Screw by Henry James

Silver Burdett Company

Pp. 118

Originally published in 1898, The Turn of the Screw still delights and terrifies readers over 120 years later. The enduring appeal of the novella is due to James’ mastery with form and style as he uses Gothic tropes to exploit deep-seated fears and phobias. An unnamed governess narrates the story of how she takes her first position at Bly, a remote country house, and begins to fear that it is haunted by the previous employees, the valet, Quint, and the governess, Miss Jessel. She fears the spirits intend to harm her young charges and she is determined to keep them safe, with disastrous consequences.

The Gothic conceits are all present in a way that would be familiar to contemporary readers, and suggest that James is playing with them. The possible presence of ghosts in an isolated mansion (Mrs Grose, the kindly but dim-witted servant, is the only other living occupant) with dark corridors and darker secrets is a ruse recognisable to readers of popular fiction from The Castle of Otranto and The Mysteries of Udolpho (mentioned specifically in this novel) to Jane Eyre and Dracula (published the previous year). It also employs the device of a framed narrative, such as in Wuthering Heights, Frankenstein, and The Legend of Sleepy Hollow, in which we are told of a story told to someone else in the words of a manuscript a governess had left behind. This third-hand tale is introduced with chilling and thrilling glee as a typical ghost story; “The story had held us, round the fire, sufficiently breathless, but except the obvious remark that it was gruesome, as, on Christmas Eve in an old house, a strange tale should essentially be, I remember no comment uttered.”

Angelic children have become a mainstay of modern horror, and eight-year-old Flora and ten-year-old Miles are clearly prototypes as, “Both the children had a gentleness that kept them – how I shall I express it – almost impersonal and certainly quite unpunishable.” They are almost impossibly delightful with “their more than earthly beauty, their absolutely unnatural goodness”, although this may simply be an inexperienced governess’ interpretation of childhood.

The tension is increased throughout the tale, like the titular turning of the screw, as there are hints of paranoia and madness. For all the elaborate language, nothing is definite and everything remains in shadows. The metaphor is made explicit as the governess suffers from insomnia, stalking the halls with a candle in the middle of the night.

A Freudian interpretation would suggest hysteria and sexual repression: Quint and Miss Jessel were discharged for conducting an illicit affair, from the knowledge of which the children must naturally be protected. There is certainly a suspicion of surveillance, and the governess feels she is being observed, and judged, by the spirits on her performance. The central issue of the story is whether the ghosts are real, and the governess’ efforts in protecting the children are justified, or whether she is going mad, in which case they are at risk from her, and her consideration that they are linked to unspeakable evil is a reflection of her tormented psyche.

At the end of the nineteenth century readers were far more likely to believe in ghosts than they are now, although we are perhaps more understanding of psychoses.  Because James refuses to choose a definitive solution to his mystery, the tale of terror is compelling either way. It continues to be popular because we like a good scare, and this one is a ripper.

Friday Five: Artistic Endeavours (again, counting is nebulous)

Last year, Scarey Sis (who is very good at this sort of thing) arranged a painting 'competition'. Family members who were present were tasked with painting a picture of the view. We were at Inverallt House on the edge of Loch Long, so those views were pretty spectacular, and everyone was free to interpret this as they wished. They were given two hours to get on with it.

Art has never been my strong point, but I do love words, and have always wondered about the adage that a picture is worth a thousand of them; surely that depends on the description? My part in this tomfoolery was to write the accompanying descriptions for the images, as if they were to be hung in a gallery. Incidentally, all of the artists approved the comments and said that was, indeed, what they had been implying with their picture. There were no winners or losers; creativity was the name of the game. If you want to pick a favourite, however, go for it!

8 Images on a Theme:

The confidence and expertise of this image makes the viewer instantly want to be there. The brush strokes are busy and exciting suggesting a story in the movement of the water and the boat, and the dripping of the tree. Painting disparate colours in close proximity reflects the nature of water and creates interest and pleasure. Texture and technique create a tactile impression that invites touch and interaction. If one could pop into a painting, this is the one to choose; the smell of the sea and the tang of the seaweed is in the paint itself -a delight to all senses. It expresses a world of possibilities and adventure if one is only willing to embark on the journey.

There is a beguiling simplicity in this image which is both assured and playful. The sailboats are almost cartoonish in their size and placement and are innocently unaware both of the gathering clouds and the nearby presence of military hardware nosing round the corner. The artist has manipulated the scenery to include Ben Arthur in a distant profile, while cladding the foreground hills in comforting autumnal colours. This combination of the gentle background and sharply-outlined features heightens the dichotomy of the image; the big boats may be threatening or protective, depending on the current viewpoint.

Cleverly here the artist has incorporated the painting position into the painting itself. At once both comforting and disorienting the image highlights the capacity to look both forwards and back simultaneously. Without even placing people in the landscape, the artist implies their presence by the addition of the summer dwelling. Although the doors and windows are closed to indicate the height of the season has passed, there are still hints of warmth in the suggestion of a blue sky and the gentle sloping of the hills. The outline depiction of the sailboat indicates time passing, while the passing resemblance of the gazebo/ tree trunk combination to a teapot registers a persuasion of autumnal domesticity, as we wait for the current storm to blow over.

This is potentially the most creative response to the project. Bands of colour indicate strata layering up over a long passage of time. The colours chosen have a distinctly maritime feel and reflect the tones of the loch and its shores. Superimposing the richness of objects found on the shore enforces the layered approach. The seaweed, leaves, ferns and shells provide the connection between earth, sea and sky highlighted by the layers of colour. By drawing these in dark outline, the artist casts these objects as shadow paintings or cave drawings made by early civilisations to suggest their links to the land before letters and language. The framing can be seen as a border to the lens of the light of the lighthouse or as part of an elaborate tartan pattern which again anchors the drawing to a firm sense of place. It is a defiant assertion of belonging that current political events cannot alter.

What a delight to see such a joyful interpretation of landscape. All of the natural elements are present and correct, from the shore cluttered with rocks, shells and seaweed, to the clear demarcations of the trees on the hills. While these and the lighthouse, along with the tidal movement of the water, are all suggested through colour and wash, the highlight of the image is clearly the Loch Long Monster, presented with more clarity than its surroundings. The inclusion of this mythical beast brings a fanciful element to the reality of the scene. The jaunty tam o'shanter on the monster's head instantly makes it friendly rather than threatening, and the location is obviously Scotland. In troubling times of disunity and encroaching differences, this image seems to welcome all-comers and celebrate diversity.

This image is a faithful representation of the scene, with some excellent layering and shading creating mood and atmosphere. The placement of the featured item in the background provides depth and perspective, while challenging assumptions: generally lighthouses are depicted as pillars of light shining forth, whereas this minute beacon is almost hidden. The viewer is aware that it will make its presence known when necessary and guide travellers home to safety. The suggestion is to look beyond the immediate present for signs of future hope and comfort.

This artist has used a mixture of colours and techniques from dabs and dashes to swirls and blocks of colour. Not wanting to leave anything behind, the artist has revelled in all the tricks of the paintbox. Sky, land and sea are given equal weight in a well-proportioned depiction of the landscape, as seen through an open window. The addition of blobs of colour to represent buoys is inspired. At points laid on thick and in other places applied as a thin veneer to allow the paper to come through, the paint is versatile and becomes a character in its own right. The artist implies that the technique and the method is as important as the result.

With a simple but expressive colour palette and not extending to the edges, this image captures a fleeting moment. The sail boat is central and strong picked out in black and white, but it still manages to portray an element of fragility, surrounded by strong blue water. The dashes of black, green and grey enhance the feeling of uncertainty as the weather reflects a sudden squall of rain. Whereas the green suggests the nearby land, it is not particularly reassuring. This is a passionate painting full of movement and restless energy: unsettling and unpredictable.

A recap

Dripping with Middle-class Snobbery: Rack, Ruin and Murder

Rack, Ruin and Murder by Ann Granger

Headline

Pp. 314

As cosy Cotswold murders go, this is a fine example. There’s a dilapidated old manor house, a family fallen on hard times, a local clan of ne’er do wells, and an unidentified dead body that turns up on someone’s sofa. Inspector Jess Carter has to scurry about the countryside splashing her car down narrow pot-holed roads and falling in drainage ditches to discover the identity of ‘the stiff’, as the corpse is generally called, and reporting back to Superintendent Ian Campbell, with whom she is bound to have a repressed romantic relationship – this is the second in a series that currently runs to six, so there’s plenty of time for this to develop.

With the help of the clueless Sergeant Morton, Carter rather fortuitously (and not entirely convincingly) uncovers the criminal elements of the tale. As in all families and small villages, there are buried secrets. Old Monty Bickerstaff (he of the erstwhile grand country house and biscuit emporium) has been keeping one for years. Now he is finding he can no longer cope without his daily whisky, memories of the past are starting to trouble him.

Later, when truths come to light, he remarks, “Secrets are buggers. The only place for them is out in the open where they can’t muck up anyone’s life.” This is clearly the homily of the novel, but without secrets there would be no murder mysteries, so they must remain, no matter what young Tansy Peterson argues. “They were all so bloody hypocritical in those days. They really were. They were dead set on respectability. That didn’t mean they behaved themselves, just that they buried any bad news, any scandal, as they saw it.” This allows for some clunky exposition as the Superintendent explains to young people today what things were like in olden times, and that it wasn’t easy to get a divorce, especially if you were a woman.

As with all death-by-numbers stories, there must be multiple characters, whom we can count as suspects, and they must all be described succinctly so that we can instantly form impressions. Granger’s portraits are one-dimensional and often snide; she is particularly prone to class and weight shaming, and clothes are often shorthand for character. Naturally, Jess is perfectly positioned as the manic-pixie-dream girl trope, “a terrier of a girl, with short dark-red hair, a pointed chin and widely spaced grey eyes that sparkled with intelligence.”

Other women are described by age, weight and perceived attractiveness, for example one is “pretty in a wan sort of way", while another is “an overweight blonde wearing tight black leggings that did nothing to disguise her plump thighs and bulging calves”. Older people get short shrift in the description stakes – they are largely past fanciable age and therefore barely relevant. It always reverts to age, such as three women who have been firmly and inescapably labelled: “The oldest woman was waving her arms above her head. The youngest, overweight, lumbered beside her, mouth gaping and badly dyed scarlet hair flying. Between the two extremes of age came a middle-aged third who must be Maggie Colley.”

Men don’t necessarily escape the class, weight and age censure either, and middle-class snobbery fairly drips off the pages with character outlines such as, “a burly, bearded man in grimy jeans and quilted body-warmer worn over a plaid shirt” or, “a short, podgy individual, wearing a ginger woolly cardigan, baggy brown corduroy trousers and slippers.”

This is a formulaic and relatively shallow murder mystery, with one-dimensional characters and a somewhat petty plot. But, it is heart-warming and life-affirming as the murder is neatly solved, and the charming Cotswold village can return being a peaceful idyll, until the next time, which we eagerly await!