Inescapable Red

After surviving a car accident, a neurotic young woman finds her anxieties exacerbated in a harsh industrial landscape. 1964's Red Desert (Il deserto rosso) is a movie with a surprisingly gorgeous aesthetic given the fact that its about a woman going mad in an environment that seems to stymie her every attempt to form an emotional connexion.

The director, Michelangelo Antonioni, said in an interview about the film that he is not an opponent of industrial progress and claimed he even sometimes found factories and smokestacks more visually interesting than a forest of similar pine trees. Certainly he didn't hesitate to spoil a natural environment and many of the film's stunning visuals were attained by spray painting trees, soil, and grass.

Monica Vitti plays Giuliana, a young woman forced to live in this place because of her husband's job. In the film's first scene, she bizarrely begs a man to sell her his half eaten sandwich. It's the first sign of dysfunction in her attempts to connect with people. Her every impulse seems only to go halfway--she wants to open a shop and her husband's money has already bought a location--but she has no clear idea what to sell. She finds herself attracted to her husband's colleague, Corrado (Richard Harris), but doesn't seem to quite know how to have an affair.

The colour red recurs, always striking against the film's otherwise predominant blacks and greys. It's not as on the nose as Marnie but it clearly seems to reflect heightened sensitivity for Giuliana, whether its a near orgy in a little red cabin on a boat or the crimson beams of antenna she's told are designed for listening to the stars.

Watching the film conveys a strange combination of dread and serenity. It's available on The Criterion Channel.

Twitter Sonnet #1323

Recovered lists reveal the broken vowel.
A consonant in pieces glued the word.
Applying language thick by rusty trowel.
A dozen early worms could choke the bird.
The eyes extended up and down could melt.
A banner shook the heart of clay and sod.
A hollow text was still so clearly felt.
And now it seems the dice are always odd.
A coat of green could not protect the tum.
The ruling pop a soda couldn't mute.
Between the cola bubbles slides the rum.
A tangled web ingests the empty boot.
A pepper ghost appeared as twins at play.
A fragile snack began the shortened day.

Problems of the Polished

Three wealthy Massachusetts families face a series of crises in 1961's By Love Possessed. This strangely soothing soap opera consists of lovely autumnal footage of New England and good actors having affairs and serious discussions amid glossy wood panelling.

Top billing goes to Lana Turner and Jason Robards as Mrs. and Mr. Penrose but among the ensemble cast their roles are probably the smallest. Mostly the film centres around dissatisfied young Warren Winner (George Hamilton). The Winner family have always been, well, winners, and Warren chaffs under the expectations of his father, Arthur (Efrem Zimbalist Jr.), and the whole town. Particularly irritating to him is the expectation that he'll marry Helen Detweiler (Susan Kohner).

We're introduced to the two with Warren sleeping with his head in her lap. The two seem to like each other but Warren is just too restless so he sleeps with a prostitute named Veronica (Yvonne Craig). When she falsely accuses him of rape, Arthur takes the case, still having faith in his son. Oddly, the movie seems to have little sympathy for Helen. The scene where she and Warren talk following the rape allegation almost seems to put the blame on Helen. The conversation oddly begins with Warren recalling how he and Helen met, when he'd punched her in face as children. Hastily she interjects, "I didn't mind!"

But the movie may not be as heartless about Helen as it seems considering what eventually happens to her. Still, Warren's relatively mild troubles are given a peculiar amount of emphasis, the rape allegation notwithstanding, which is strangely underplayed, particularly when viewed through a contemporary lens. Yet this is also part of the film's charm, the idea that the biggest problem a fellow could have is that his life is just too good.

There's a subplot about Helen's legal guardian, Noah Tuttle (Thomas Mitchell), who's also the head of the firm in which Penrose and Winner are the other partners. A rival attorney alerts Winner to the fact that Tuttle has been embezzling money for years and everyone talks about how to handle the matter quietly so as not to embarrass the old man. What a nice, tidy little world.

Lana Turner and Jason Robards give good performances though there's not much for them to chew on. She's dissatisfied and is having an affair with Winner and Robards' is insecure about his bad leg, thinking it emasculates him in the eyes of his wife. This was only Robards' second film role and the best was definitely yet to come.

Taking a Sebacean at Her Word

Moya finally returns in an episode of Farscape that tests the years of trust and loyalty that have accrued among her crew. But this ship is home, a fact sweetly underlined when D'Argo tells Pilot that Moya looks beautiful and Pilot conveys Moya's gratitude to the Luxan.

Season Four, Episode Five: Promises

The first person Crichton (Ben Browder) sees in the hanger is the long lost Aeryn Sun (Claudia Black). A damper is put on their reunion when she collapses from heat delirium. Apparently she'd gotten out of bed just long enough to make Crichton promise not to kill Scorpius (Wayne Pygram).

It's not hard to see where the episode got its title. Aeryn promised Scorpius he wouldn't be hurt, Crichton promises Aeryn not to hurt him. And so the ties of affection prevent the human from going all out in acting on that affection in the natural way; taking revenge on the man who tried to kill Aeryn.

Except Scorpius, as a prelude to finally extracting Harvey (Wayne Pygram), points out it was the neural clone, not Scorpius himself, who'd tried to kill Aeryn. The reasoning here feels a bit fragile and the events of several season two episodes in particular seem to argue against the thought that Scorpius was really so benign. But, then again, it's not as though the crew of Moya are saints themselves.

The episode ends with Aeryn seemingly happy to rejoin the crew but with Crichton calling her on not being forthright about her pregnancy. So much for mutual trust and promises.

It turns out Aeryn had been far indeed from a saint in her time away from Moya and some enemies she'd made working as an assassin show up looking for vengeance. It's a really neat stand-off plot as D'Argo (Anthony Simcoe) and Crichton go aboard to try to negotiate for a cure to Aeryn's illness. Aeryn, meanwhile, is doing some cute Scorpius cosplay in a coolant suit.

She even gets to play Harvey in one scene and Claudia Black shows she can do a pretty dead-on Wayne Pygram impression.

This is also the episode where Pilot (Lani Tupu) decides it's time the crew elect a captain. Considering promises turn out not to be a reliable system of coordination among the group, maybe reverting to a hierarchical structure isn't such a bad idea. Though Crichton has usually acted as de facto captain anyway. It's not unlike the way pirate ships used to work in which the captain usually hadn't any real power except during a battle in which his commands were expected to be obeyed.

. . .

Farscape is available now on Amazon Prime.

This entry is part of a series I'm writing on Farscape for the show's 20th anniversary. My previous reviews can be found here (episodes are in the order intended by the show's creators rather than the broadcast order):

Season One:

Episode 1: Pilot
Episode 2: I, E.T.
Episode 3: Exodus from Genesis
Episode 4: Throne for a Loss
Episode 5: Back and Back and Back to the Future
Episode 6: Thank God It's Friday Again
Episode 7: PK Tech Girl
Episode 8: That Old Black Magic
Episode 9: DNA Mad Scientist
Episode 10: They've Got a Secret
Episode 11: Till the Blood Runs Clear
Episode 12: Rhapsody in Blue
Episode 13: The Flax
Episode 14: Jeremiah Crichton
Episode 15: Durka Returns
Episode 16: A Human Reaction
Episode 17: Through the Looking Glass
Episode 18: A Bug's Life
Episode 19: Nerve
Episode 20: The Hidden Memory
Episode 21: Bone to be Wild
Episode 22: Family Ties

Season Two:

Episode 1: Mind the Baby
Episode 2: Vitas Mortis
Episode 3: Taking the Stone
Episode 4: Crackers Don't Matter
Episode 5: Picture If You Will
Episode 6: The Way We Weren't
Episode 7: Home on the Remains
Episode 8: Dream a Little Dream
Episode 9: Out of Their Minds
Episode 10: My Three Crichtons
Episode 11: Look at the Princess, Part I: A Kiss is But a Kiss
Episode 12: Look at the Princess, Part II: I Do, I Think
Episode 13: Look at the Princess, Part III: The Maltese Crichton
Episode 14: Beware of Dog
Episode 15: Won't Get Fooled Again
Episode 16: The Locket
Episode 17: The Ugly Truth
Episode 18: A Clockwork Nebari
Episode 19: Liars, Guns, and Money, Part I: A Not So Simple Plan
Episode 20: Liars, Guns, and Money, Part II: With Friends Like These . . .
Episode 21: Liars, Guns, and Money, Part III: Plan B
Episode 22: Die Me, Dichotomy

Season Three:

Episode 1: Season of Death
Episode 2: Suns and Lovers
Episode 3: Self-Inflicted Wounds, Part I: Would'a, Could'a, Should'a
Episode 4: Self-Inflicted Wounds, Part II: Wait for the Wheel
Episode 5: . . . Different Destinations
Episode 6: Eat Me
Episode 7: Thanks for Sharing
Episode 8: Green Eyed Monster
Episode 9: Losing Time
Episode 10: Relativity
Episode 11: Incubator
Episode 12: Meltdown
Episode 13: Scratch 'n Sniff
Episode 14: Infinite Possibilities, Part I: Daedalus Demands
Episode 15: Infinite Possibilities, Part II: Icarus Abides
Episode 16: Revenging Angel
Episode 17: The Choice
Episode 18: Fractures
Episode 19: I-Yensch, You-Yensch
Episode 20: Into the Lion's Den, Part I: Lambs to the Slaughter
Episode 21: Into the Lion's Den, Part II: Wolf in Sheep's Clothing
Episode 22: A Dog with Two Bones

Season Four

Episode 1: Crichton Kicks
Episode 2: What was Lost, Part I: Sacrifice
Episode 3: What was Lost, Part II: Resurrection
Episode 4: Lava's a Many Splendoured Thing

If Ikea had a Strip Club

Of the many, many films that have been made about stripping and prostitution, one of the least remarkable is 2019's Hustlers. Really more of a vehicle designed to flatter Jennifer Lopez's vanity than the unvarnished revelation on American strip clubs it pretends to be, Hustlers has gloss worthy of an old MGM musical with none of the ingenuity.

The story is told in flashback by Destiny (Constance Wu) to a reporter (Julia Stiles). Based loosely on a true story about strippers at a New York club who took to drugging and fleecing some of their clients, we watch as innocent young Destiny gradually goes from stripping in order to support her grandmother to being forced to adopt less scrupulous practices in the declining U.S. economy. Through it all is her mentor, Ramona (Lopez), whom we're introduced to pole dancing in a sling bikini.

Fifty year old Jennifer Lopez looks amazing in ways no real fifty year old stripper can dream of, the fruit of Lopez's maintenance being, of course, the real point of the scene if not the whole film. Naturally, none of the film's stars sees it necessary to actually strip, such duties relegated to the riff-raff extras.

Ramona guides wide-eyed Destiny through the tricks of the trade in lapdance scenes shot like run of the mill music videos. Ramona is beautiful, Ramona is wise, and above all, Ramona is badder than Destiny, her genius devising the scheme that makes them infamous; pretending to be average girls excited by a guy at a bar before taking him back to the club or, later, their homes, drugging him, and plundering him. This concept could've been developed into a good crime film but the lack of artistic commitment hampers the production on every level. Lopez and Wu don't really play characters so much as types. A scene at the end, meant to be profound, shows Lopez observing that "The world is a strip club." May as well say the world is a Burger King for all Ramona or the film do to substantiate this claim.

Twitter Sonnet #1322

Sufficient time completes the chair with space.
Ascending skulls expand to make the head.
Enormous totem poles construct the face.
Beneath the feet of life there dwelt the dead.
Important sheets of paper pull apart.
Increasing speed decreased the frigate's odds.
Selecting cords allow a full restart.
Along the path a party gathered gods.
Disproven cases grew to wooden life.
Entrancing panels lived beyond the court.
Dissolving butter heaped upon the knife.
Commanding sterns arrived at night to port.
A broken beaker fixed the lab for glass.
A planted seed instructs the vines to pass.

Self-Consumption of the Doctor

As promised, the Judoon returned to Doctor Who on Sunday, along with a few other surprises in an episode that truly left me intrigued about the overall season arc. "Fugitive of the Judoon" still has a lot of the problems intrinsic to Thirteen's era and it relies a bit too much on the kind of stunts clearly designed for extra media coverage. But in the process it established the beginning of mysteries I truly want the answers to.

Spoilers after the screenshot

It was nice seeing Jack Harkness (John Barrowman) again and it was a stark contrast between him, a charming and capable companion, and the three current deadweights. I actually started to wonder if Graham (Bradley Walsh), Ryan (Tosin Cole), and Yas (Mandip Gil) are even real.

Seriously. Think of that weird pep talk they give the Doctor (Jodiw Whittaker) at the end of the episode, how they start buttering her up when she's depressed. What if the Doctor had spent an extraordinary amount of time alone and finally started to crack, the need for companionship becoming so great that she invented the three of them? That would explain why they're so bland and usually seem to have nothing substantial to do. But I guess then we'd have to ask who Jack was talking to.

It's weird he and the Doctor never meet in the episode. I wonder why. Unless the encounter between Jack and the companions is an edited memory of the Doctor's. Which is one possible reason she doesn't remember the incarnation introduced in the episode.

I really want to know why they don't recognise each other. Introduced as Ruth Clayton, this woman claiming to be the Doctor--confirmed by a scan from the sonic screwdriver--is played by Jo Martin, a black woman. It's plausible--the Third Doctor hears voices from previous incarnations in "The Time Monster" and one of the voices is a woman. There's a throwaway line Twelve has where he mentions being a little girl. The fact that Ruth/Doctor doesn't recognise the sonic screwdriver suggests she's from before the Second Doctor but the fact that her TARDIS is stuck as a police box suggests she comes after the First Doctor. We saw One regenerate into Two so there's not really an eligible gap period as there is between Two and Three or between Eight and Nine. So my theory is that she's a Second Doctor from an alternate timeline.

Maybe this is why she doesn't seem quite as quick-thinking as the Doctor usually is. Maybe it's just that Jo Martin isn't a particularly good actress, which was my read on her at the beginning of the episode. It's a shame they couldn't have cast someone closer in status John Hurt. If they wanted a black British woman, my pick would've been Thandie Newton. Then again, maybe they felt that kind of casting should be reserved for events as big as an anniversary special. But it's weird seeing the Doctor played so blandly.

And what about the Judoon? I like how, for the most part, they weren't shown as simple villains but actually had motivations and rules. Though I feel like it shouldn't be so easy to remove one of their horns. Does Ruth/Doctor have super strength? Another mystery.

War Spares Not the Lovable

During World War II, many Soviet women served in the military, mostly in medical roles but a significant number were pilots, snipers, and ground troops. The reality probably didn't look a lot like 1972's The Dawns Here are Quiet, which depicts one male officer chagrined to find himself in charge of an adorable all female unit at a remote outpost. Divided in two parts, the first introduces us to the bright eyed young lasses with their pure hearted hopes and dreams while the second half concerns their tragic attempts to stop a group of Nazi scouts. The movie was designed to inspire love for the Soviet Union and hatred for its enemies and I can't deny it works its spell effectively. I wanted to hug all these girls and brutally murder all the Nazis who threatened them.

The first half of the movie is so moe it's almost a slice-of-life anime. Every single one of the gunners assigned to the meagre outpost is petite, sweet, and has a backstory about lost love or sneaking rations to a struggling family. Like an anime, too, there's an obligatory bath house scene, in this case a steam bath in which everyone admires Zhenya (Olga Ostroumova) for being the most beautiful of all and with the best figure.

Oh, come on, girls, you're all worthy.

All of them are in various levels of love with Senior Sergeant Vaskov (Andrey Martynov) who tries to hide his embarrassment behind a brilliant, enormous moustache. He awkwardly decides to visit the barracks while the girls are dancing, just to hang out and watch, but everyone stops because he's there and he's obliged to awkwardly remove himself.

Vaskov's number one fan is Lisa (Yelena Drapeko), who's teased for it by the others. This makes it all the more heartbreaking when, in part 2, she's sent back alone from the reconnaissance party to report on the Nazis being in greater number than expected. She runs too fast and gets stuck in the mud, gradually sinking in, gasping for air before submerging completely.

Most of the film is black and white but flashbacks and fantasies are shown in colour. Vaskov starts to have visions of the girls in colour in part two and if it doesn't bring a tear to your eye you're made of sterner stuff than I.

The Dawns Here are Quiet is available on Amazon Prime in two separate parts. Part I is in the original Russian with English subtitles while Part II, for some reason, is mostly an English dubbed version but some random scenes switch to the original Russian.

A Starfleet Admiral Declines Stimulants

Captain Picard is back and he drinks decaffeinated Earl Grey now. Star Trek: Picard, which premiered a few days ago, was about what I expected; the bland product of a committee of panicked writers and producers. And into the fray wanders Patrick Stewart, whose stipulation for returning was that Starfleet turn out to be dark.

The new show, Stewart says, “was me responding to the world of Brexit and Trump and feeling, ‘Why hasn’t the Federation changed? Why hasn’t Starfleet changed?’ Maybe they’re not as reliable and trustworthy as we all thought.”

Which is not in itself a bad idea, though it is a little bit like saying, "What if we did a production of Macbeth but everyone was dressed like it was World War II?" Which Patrick Stewart did, by the way, and it's pretty good, as you might imagine, and it's available on Amazon Prime. But it was around 40 years after his friend Ian McKellen more famously did the same thing. And McKellen's version is famous for his performance, not the costumes, which were already old hat in the 70s.

The anachronistic costume for Shakespeare is kind of an institution for which World War II costumes are a stratum to themselves. And with Star Trek, it's been over twenty years since Section 31 was introduced as producers boldly decided to steer Deep Space Nine away from Gene Roddenberry's vision. As much as I love DS9, the decision was effectively to make Star Trek a bit more like virtually every other space opera since Star Wars. And in terms of the history and political psychology of a system grown complacent and rotten, Star Trek doesn't have anywhere near the same cohesive groundwork as George Lucas gave the Star Wars prequels, just one new producer and showrunner after another who said, "Hey, what if we make it dark?"

Of course, this is why The Orville has felt like such breath of fresh air. Maybe now we have some insight into why Seth MacFarlane's comedy/drama space opera is essentially the only Seth MacFarlane film or series with which Patrick Stewart hasn't been involved.

But while making the Federation less than a utopia is hardly a new idea, it's certainly no deal breaker for me. The essential problem with the premiere episode is similar to Star Trek: Discovery and the Transformers films--too much chorus, not enough verse. We barely meet the beautiful Dahj (Isa Briones) before she sees a loved one murdered and she's forced on the run, meeting briefly with Picard at his vineyard and pleading for his help before she predictably absconds from the guest quarters. Reports that the show would bear some similarity to Logan seem to be true as we find out she's a hypertalented martial artist with super strength, part of a dangerous race of synthetics hated for being what they are. She's also in some sense the daughter of Data (Brent Spiner) who really ought to have been de-aged for the dream sequences.

Wow, that hairline sure looks weird. Brent Spiner has commented in the past he wouldn't return for the role because Data has to look like he hasn't aged. I wonder if he was promised he would be de-aged but the decision was vetoed in post-production. Maybe it just didn't seem worth someone taking a pay-cut?

I like the idea of Picard on his vineyard with his two loyal Romulan servants, like a retired Victorian general who brought home some Indian assassins to serve him tea. It's wonderfully pulpy and marvellously politically incorrect though I wonder if this occurred to any of the producers. This from Michael Chabon, who once wrote an essay arguing that The Lord of the Rings engages in racist tropes.

I'll stick with Picard and I hope it gets better. Right now, though, it feels like a hyperactive remix of the Next Generation episodes "The Offspring" and "Descent".

Twitter Sonnet #1321

In threes the witches grant a word.
Appointed meets produce a moulded man.
Resounding wind on metal late was heard.
Beneath the sun the hills were turned to tan.
Appliance sales reflect the gleaming fridge.
No power cords could lift the blender up.
Rebellious toasters lined the oven ridge.
Excessive tea o'erwhelmed the coffee cup.
Considered lights were extra hard to hit.
Upset the salt and dusty tables form.
Surpassing forks consumed the silver kit.
Potato thoughts have kept the foil warm.
Decaffeinated tea's a replica.
With kettles froze in tested silica.

Heists in the Void

Your average thief may worry that a partner or associate could be a police informant. But 1963's Le Doulos shows there may be much, much more crucial information a thief might not know about his associates' motives. This dark, contemplative, exciting Jean-Pierre Melville movie creates a canny impression of human experience in the context of criminal enterprise.

First we meet Maurice (Serge Reggiani), who has a long conversation with a fence (Rene Lefevre) before shooting and killing him without explanation. A shot of a dark hillside follows, pitch black except for the washed out white of a street lamp by which Maurice buries jewels he stole from the fence.

We meet Silien (Jean-Paul Belmondo), a man Maurice had spoken fondly of to the fence, but who starts hitting Maurice's girlfriend, Therese (Monique Hennessy), not long after he's alone with her. We're given some explanation--he wants to know where Maurice's next job is so he can inform the police. Silien is an informant but, like with many other characters in the film, this doesn't quite explain all his actions.

The pervasive shadows obviously influenced by American noir complement the often ambiguous and violent actions of the characters as they trudge through the story. The climax of the film presents an explanation the viewer can't help but marvel at. You realise what a remarkable man Silien is and, at the same time, oddly credible, in no small part due to Belmondo's charismatic and natural performance. The film leaves the viewer with troubling questions about the human capacity to interpret the actions of others and the consequential danger of action in response--or inaction.

Romance is introduced two thirds of the way through as Silien brashly sits at a table with a bigshot's girl, Fabienne (Fabienne Dali). Of course, she and Silien have a past and are still drawn to each other. The chemistry between the two as they sit across the table from each other, and then as they're in bed together, might look like Bogart and Bacall in stills but the mystery around Silien and the strangely cool and furtive attitude of Fabienne gives the pair an enigmatic and sweetly fragile quality. Their relationship makes the end of the film hit twice as hard as it otherwise might have.

Le Doulos is available on The Criterion Channel.

Molten Rock Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

Sometimes you find a heist, sometimes a heist finds you. The heroes of Farscape stumble onto a stockpile of hot merchandise on a lava planet of all places, giving us one of the more magnificent episode titles.

Season Four, Episode Four: Lava's a Many Splendoured Thing

Stuck on D'Argo's (Anthony Simcoe) little ship, Lo'la, everyone's hungry and impatient. Everyone but Sikozu (Raelee Hill) is persuaded to eat something Noranti (Melissa Jaffer) vomits up necessitating a quick trip to a nearby lava planet so everyone can puke.

According to the Wiki, this episode was a particular challenge for the set designers. They don't really pull off realistic lava but I kind of like the groovy Star Trek: TOS quality of the lumpy pink goo.

More impressive is the prosthetics for the villain, Raa'Keel (John Adam), head of a gang of thieves. It looks like his brain is trying to get out.

The gang wear personal shield systems that power down when not being shot at. This ends up creating an opportunity for Crichton (Ben Browder) to show ingenuity by shooting at himself to activate the shields so he can swim in lava.

Sikozu and Chiana (Gigi Edgley) get stuck outside and have to learn to operate the craft keyed to D'Argo's genetic code. Chiana's idea to use D'Argo's conveniently located vomit adds some extra flavour to the amusing bickering between the two.

Meanwhile, it's back to routine humiliation for Rygel (Jonathan Hardy) who spends the episode encased in amber, trying desperately not to soil himself. What splendour indeed.

. . .

Farscape is available now on Amazon Prime.

This entry is part of a series I'm writing on Farscape for the show's 20th anniversary. My previous reviews can be found here (episodes are in the order intended by the show's creators rather than the broadcast order):

Season One:

Episode 1: Pilot
Episode 2: I, E.T.
Episode 3: Exodus from Genesis
Episode 4: Throne for a Loss
Episode 5: Back and Back and Back to the Future
Episode 6: Thank God It's Friday Again
Episode 7: PK Tech Girl
Episode 8: That Old Black Magic
Episode 9: DNA Mad Scientist
Episode 10: They've Got a Secret
Episode 11: Till the Blood Runs Clear
Episode 12: Rhapsody in Blue
Episode 13: The Flax
Episode 14: Jeremiah Crichton
Episode 15: Durka Returns
Episode 16: A Human Reaction
Episode 17: Through the Looking Glass
Episode 18: A Bug's Life
Episode 19: Nerve
Episode 20: The Hidden Memory
Episode 21: Bone to be Wild
Episode 22: Family Ties

Season Two:

Episode 1: Mind the Baby
Episode 2: Vitas Mortis
Episode 3: Taking the Stone
Episode 4: Crackers Don't Matter
Episode 5: Picture If You Will
Episode 6: The Way We Weren't
Episode 7: Home on the Remains
Episode 8: Dream a Little Dream
Episode 9: Out of Their Minds
Episode 10: My Three Crichtons
Episode 11: Look at the Princess, Part I: A Kiss is But a Kiss
Episode 12: Look at the Princess, Part II: I Do, I Think
Episode 13: Look at the Princess, Part III: The Maltese Crichton
Episode 14: Beware of Dog
Episode 15: Won't Get Fooled Again
Episode 16: The Locket
Episode 17: The Ugly Truth
Episode 18: A Clockwork Nebari
Episode 19: Liars, Guns, and Money, Part I: A Not So Simple Plan
Episode 20: Liars, Guns, and Money, Part II: With Friends Like These . . .
Episode 21: Liars, Guns, and Money, Part III: Plan B
Episode 22: Die Me, Dichotomy

Season Three:

Episode 1: Season of Death
Episode 2: Suns and Lovers
Episode 3: Self-Inflicted Wounds, Part I: Would'a, Could'a, Should'a
Episode 4: Self-Inflicted Wounds, Part II: Wait for the Wheel
Episode 5: . . . Different Destinations
Episode 6: Eat Me
Episode 7: Thanks for Sharing
Episode 8: Green Eyed Monster
Episode 9: Losing Time
Episode 10: Relativity
Episode 11: Incubator
Episode 12: Meltdown
Episode 13: Scratch 'n Sniff
Episode 14: Infinite Possibilities, Part I: Daedalus Demands
Episode 15: Infinite Possibilities, Part II: Icarus Abides
Episode 16: Revenging Angel
Episode 17: The Choice
Episode 18: Fractures
Episode 19: I-Yensch, You-Yensch
Episode 20: Into the Lion's Den, Part I: Lambs to the Slaughter
Episode 21: Into the Lion's Den, Part II: Wolf in Sheep's Clothing
Episode 22: A Dog with Two Bones

Season Four

Episode 1: Crichton Kicks
Episode 2: What was Lost, Part I: Sacrifice
Episode 3: What was Lost, Part II: Resurrection

Terry Jones

When I heard Terry Jones passed away yesterday, I wanted to watch Monty Python's Meaning of Life but it's the only Python movie not on Netflix in the U.S. for some reason and my DVD is in storage. So I watched an episode of Flying Circus instead, "Owl Stretching Time", in which Jones plays a gentleman in Edwardian garb trying desperately to find a place to change into his swimsuit on a modern beach.

The whole sketch is silent except for music. Jones' and the other Pythons' talents for sight gags are on ample display. Jones tries to mime taking off his pants for a doorman played by Graham Chapman who misunderstands and starts to undress himself. Of course the sketch ends with Jones onstage removing his clothes. I think statistically Terry Jones must be the most frequently naked Python.

His perfectly ordinary body was always good for serving up the language of titillation, showing how silly it can be out of context. Though I wonder if there were any people actually turned on by his pasty rump. In any case, it took courage. He did also write and direct, too, which I suppose ought to be mentioned.

All the other surviving Pythons have been commenting on his death to-day. John Cleese said, "Of his many achievements, for me the greatest gift he gave us all was his direction of 'Life of Brian'. Perfection." Which I'd probably agree with, especially since I only just recently (oh, shit, I mean over a year ago, what the fuck?) marvelled at its brilliance again. But something about death turns my thoughts to Meaning of Life.

You will be missed, Terry Jones, even as I watch your work over and over for the rest of my life.

Twitter Sonnet #1320

Apportioned porsches share the wheels of wealth.
Divided divers dip between the drinks.
Convenience vendors steal the meals of health.
Accursed curtseys bow before the shrinks.
Above a water line the ducks advanced.
Approval floats in tattered boats abroad.
Ensorcelled late, the thoughtful robe recants.
Enchanted suits appraise the threaded god.
As cutting wood deceived the Nazis well.
As swimming late invests the heart with frost.
Determined stone escorts the broken bell.
Abandoned seats alone decry the cost.
May yet no very naughty boy atone.
A naked man's piano lay alone.

Monkey Hands and Chicken Breasts

Interrogating a monkey is something even the most hardened detective rarely anticipates. But it is the task before David Lynch in 2017's What Did Jack Do?, a short film written by, starring, and directed by David Lynch. Released just a couple days ago on Netflix, it's a strange little gem that moves almost imperceptibly between broad comedy and weird mystery.

Capuchin monkeys sure are expressive and Lynch has used them before, most notably in Twin Peaks: Fire Walk with Me. This is the first time he's given one a starring role, though, and his own voice and presumably his mouth allows the animal to reluctantly divulge information about his violent affair with a chicken.

It's funny, of course, but it becomes strangely entrancing, too, as Lynch finds interesting ways of matching dialogue to the tiny quirks of the monkey's brow. Incredibly, this film returns to one of Lynch's most persistent preoccupations: the torment of an individual who's done violence to his or her loved one. Explored in more serious terms in Eraserhead, Blue Velvet, Twin Peaks, Lost Highway, and Mulholland Drive, Lynch takes this most grim topic and reduces it to the ridiculous. Yet it somehow retains some of the intrinsic sorrow of the circumstance.

Only one other human is featured in the film, Lynch's wife, Emily Stofle, playing a waitress. But Lynch and the monkey are an engaging enough duo on screen.

Kindergarten Tesla

Giant alien scorpions came for Nikola Tesla in last night's Doctor Who, so far the best episode of the new season but still well below average for the series as a whole. The conflict between Tesla and Edison is portrayed somewhat effectively even if the episode's attempts to simplify the drama indulge in significant mischaracterisations.

Once again, the episode's highest point is in its guest star, in this case Goran Višnjić as Nikola Telsa. He's no match for David Bowie's take on Tesla in The Prestige but he does a good job conveying the man's passion and bitterness.

Graham (Bradley Walsh) and Ryan (Tosin Cole) are especially pointless in this episode, their doofusy one-liners never passing as comedy. Yaz (Mandip Gill) is decent enough as someone for the Doctor (Jodie Whittaker) to explain things to but one still misses companions with a spark of their own personality.

The episode's conclusion brings to mind "Vincent and the Doctor" as the Doctor tells Yaz about how Tesla's vision would be unappreciated in his own time but would have a profound effect on the future. Except, unlike with Van Gogh, the Doctor's reasoning is tenuous as the episode attempts to argue that Tesla invented wi-fi. I suppose this is an attempt to dumb things down for kids watching whose concept of the Internet is shaped by how they connect to it when at a coffee shop. The makers of the show apparently had no faith viewers would appreciate an inventor's theories about radio waves.

Edison (Robert Glenister) is presented as the villain in the conflict between the two, signified by the fact that Edison's the only one who thinks to use a gun against the giant scorpions, but fundamentally the episode's argument that Tesla can only have worth if one can directly point to some specific, profitable invention of his in use to-day is, essentially, the philosophy Edison espouses in the episode, delivered in petulant villain tones by Glenister. Of all the problems with the Thirteenth Doctor era, the impression that it has no idea what it's trying to say is the most pervasive. Though the wasted space companions is a close second.