The Dead Gold in the Cipher

Those who like their horror couched in an authentic sense of doing scrupulous research will enjoy "The Treasure of Abbot Thomas" by M.R. James. Included in James' 1904 collection Ghost Stories of an Antiquary, it's a story of one man devoted to research going to the assistance of another man devoted to research--in this case, with the aim of discovering the hidden treasure of a long dead abbot. The beginning of the story opening with a big block of Latin text followed by one character ruminating on the process of translating it, there's a wonderful sense of the real work involved, which then and now involves more than Googling. The verisimilitude lends a great chill to the supernatural occurrences, which are kept to a minimum and told mostly second hand.

In his essay on supernatural horror, H.P. Lovecraft devotes a whole section, several long paragraphs, to James. It sounds like Lovecraft was likely more influenced by James' "Count Magnus" which, in Lovecraft's synopsis, sounds a lot like "Rats in the Walls" and The Case of Charles Dexter Ward. But he does spend a whole paragraph on "The Treasure of Abbot Thomas".

In “The Treasure of Abbot Thomas” a British antiquary unriddles a cipher on some Renaissance painted windows, and thereby discovers a centuried hoard of gold in a niche half way down a well in the courtyard of a German abbey. But the crafty depositor had set a guardian over that treasure, and something in the black well twines its arms around the searcher’s neck in such a manner that the quest is abandoned, and a clergyman sent for. Each night after that the discoverer feels a stealthy presence and detects a horrible odour of mould outside the door of his hotel room, till finally the clergyman makes a daylight replacement of the stone at the mouth of the treasure-vault in the well—out of which something had come in the dark to avenge the disturbing of old Abbot Thomas’s gold. As he completes his work the cleric observes a curious toad-like carving on the ancient well-head, with the Latin motto “Depositum custodi—keep that which is committed to thee.”

Lovecraft doesn't mention the peculiar and lively diction of the antiquary's servant or the sense of irrepressible pride with which the antiquary describes unravelling the clues to the treasure's location, even after he's been traumatised by the experience. Much of the horror is in the man's evident discomfort. Through the dialogue, James does a great job of bringing out the sense of sinister with effective indirectness. One gets so caught up in the antiquary's glee for decoding a cipher that the relatively simple horrific encounter feels strangely personal. I suppose that's because, even in a fictional story, the cipher itself is real.

Usual Measures for Rain

Beautiful, fatalistic, and melancholy, 1964's The Umbrellas of Cherbourg (Les Parapluies de Cherbourg) has all the vivacity and some of the charm of a Hollywood musical but with the existential countercurrent of the French New Wave. Lovely performances and a saturated palette add to a score which might best be described as "bebop opera".

There's no spoken dialogue in the film, it's all singing, the words often taking on the quality of lyrics though rarely rhyming. It's beautiful but it also elevates the commonplace romance depicted to a level showing the tragedy in every inevitable point. After all, in a musical or opera, everything is rehearsed and practised carefully after the songs are meticulously assembled. There are no jump scares or shocks, everything moves along in the gentle current.

Of course the two beautiful young people, Genevieve (Catherine Deneuve) and Guy (Nino Castelnuovo), are going to fall recklessly in love. Of course Genevieve is going to be worn down by her mother's (Anne Vernon) anxieties and marry a rich man while Nino's doing his compulsory military service. Of course he's going to fall in love with someone else, too.

Each decision seems big and yet they're usually made so quietly, as matters of course. Placed in the context of a musical, they're almost nightmarish. Certainly sad, wistful, and lovely.

The Umbrellas of Cherbourg is available on The Criterion Channel.

Letting Fewer Things Go

2019's Frozen II lacks the courage and thematic simplicity of its predecessor but it's not a bad film. Parts of it are quite lovely.

I always felt Frozen was "of the Devil's party without knowing it," that the runaway success of the song "Let It Go" meant the biggest aspect of the film's impact was opposite to the message Disney insists on constantly promoting. "Let It Go" is a song about personal liberation, about finding strength when you cease to be burdened by constant concern for others, but it's ultimately a film about family coming together. Frozen II is an attempt to make the quest for Elsa's personal liberation harmonise with Disney's mission about promoting family. The film never quite squares that circle nor does it confront the issue with as much boldness as the first film.

Character conflicts are front and centre in the first film; Elsa (Idina Menzel) and her sister, Anna (Kristen Bell), live separately in the same castle after Elsa accidentally injures Anna with her powers. The idea of Elsa inevitably causing harm just by being her natural self is an extremely potent idea with dramatic potential, one that makes her liberation more interesting for how dangerous it is. Her liberation feels good but the alienation and isolation that seems to be the price of it aren't quite so nice. But some would say that's what it is to be an artist--in fact, David Lynch said it in an interview recently with The Guardian; "You gotta be selfish, it's a terrible thing."

Frozen II's plot is much more muddled, almost on the level of "The taxation of trade routes is in dispute" muddled. A dead grandfather for Elsa and Anna is introduced in flashback and a backstory for their parents--the role the parents played in Elsa's repression isn't addressed. Instead, a somewhat confusing story is presented about the slaughter of Elsa and Anna's people at he hands of a tribal, hunter-gatherer people, the story very quickly becoming obvious as an allegory about histories about native peoples being rewritten and distorted by white colonialists. The potential minefield around this issue is probably one of the things that led to the film getting so many rewrites.

Elsa's still not in complete control of her powers but it's never talked about as a real danger--it's even used for comic effect in her first appearance in the film. It makes sense that this crucial aspect of the first film would be downplayed considering how hostile the media environment is now for stories about toxic people who find acceptance or redemption.

One aspect of "Let It Go" the film embraces is a sense of adventure and wanderlust, exemplified by Elsa's song "Into the Unknown," which was nice, especially since the desire for adventure has been condemned by some in the media in recent years as inherently corrupt and male. This leads to a plot about elemental spirits and a burning salamander that's interesting but never as intimate as anything in the first film.

Visually the film is wonderful, reminding me of Skyrim and the werewolf land in World of Warcraft with its green and grey moorlands. I liked how Olaf's comment about water having memory, presented as a joke, takes on a deeper meaning as the film progresses. I loved Elsa's horse and how she takes her hair down as a sign that this is the next step in her process of liberation but it's not nearly as satisfying as when she just takes down her braid in the first film.

Twitter Sonnet #1308

In spiral cuts the bottles fit the box.
Disarming pacts occurred with branching trusts.
Eleven teams partook of lurid socks.
A sunken boat in grace profoundly rusts.
Behind a deck the cards were suited best.
Perhaps a second boat could pull the fish.
Recumbent fleets arrayed in ten abreast.
A choosy flood conveys a foamy wish.
The floating eyes return the dream to ice.
A ceiling cracked the woods to spill a tree.
Beneath sequestered lakes we planted rice.
The swimming eyes returned the yacht to sea.
A cloud of birds recorded air above.
The gauntlet never torments like the glove.

Anna Karina

Anna Karina, who passed away two days ago at the age of 79, is widely recognised as one of the most prominent faces of the French New Wave. The muse of one of the 1960s cinematic movement's most prominent directors, Jean-Luc Godard, she played an astonishing variety of characters in only around six years. From the innocent girl fallen in with hooligans in Bande a part (1964) to the mischievous stripper in Une femme est une femme (1960) to the defiant prostitute in Vivre sa vie (1962), her beautiful face expressed complexity in these characters that went well beyond those simple descriptions.

No wonder Godard was so entranced. The film critic turned filmmaker chose to show her weeping face in close-up in a famous scene from Vivre sa vie in which she watches another woman crying in Carl Dreyer's Jeanne d'Arc. What a way to draw attention to another film and to make a point about how emotions and experience are communicated through film. Anna Karina had the face and the talent for it.

After her breakup with Godard, he made movies about her and she went on to direct her own films and write novels. She remains primarily celebrated for her work with Godard, though, but that's no dishonour. The combination of mesmerising beauty and sensitive performance is a supreme rarity and no-one could ever duplicate what she did.

The Dinosaur Puppets Stand Their Ground

It's surprising how little it takes to fool people--though generally it takes more than dinosaurs like these. The 1974 Doctor Who serial Invasion of the Dinosaurs is infamous for its bad special effects but, pathetically immobile beasties aside, its story about a group of people fooled into thinking they're interstellar colonists is pretty sharp.

These dinosaurs materialising in the middle of London really ought to seem like more trouble than they are. Even the ambiguous cross between a Tyrannosaurus and Allosaurus can't manage much more than slowly waving its head and mashing its chops. At least Triceratops and Stegosaurus more or less look like themselves but the supposedly rampaging behemoths are persistently stuck in place like museum exhibits and all the dialogue treats them with the same urgency.

But Sarah Jane Smith (Elisabeth Sladen) uncovers something more interesting when the government and military conspirators knock her out and decide to dump her on a phoney spacecraft they have loaded with would-be colonists who think they're on their way to a new Earth. Little do they know the conspirators are really planning to make old Earth look like a new one by wiping out civilisation via a machine that turns back time. The Doctor (Jon Pertwee) cautions the madmen that there never really was any such "golden age" as they seek giving their endeavour the tone of a Donald Trump-ish "Make America Great Again" style mirage (which, indeed, was far from new when Trump took the slogan).

I love this on so many levels. It's a bit like Luis Bunuel's The Exterminating Angel where a group of rich socialites find themselves suddenly unable to exit a room for no other reason but for a subtle meme that has propagated among them. Here, Sarah finds the door exiting the ship, revealing just a basement and stairwell outside, isn't even locked and the colonists are held in entirely by their own ideology. It's not simply the absurdity of the truth that keeps them from recognising it but also the long experience of fighting for a belief that's hard to swallow. When they show Sarah a video about how terrible humankind is for ruining the world with pollution of course any objection from her might be put down to naivete. The emotional complexity of the lie perpetuates it.

It's a shame many people can't see past the dopey dino puppets. I'd suggest replacing them with cgi but it'd be hard to fix how they're shot and framed just standing in spot.

I love the Third Doctor's outfit in this one. Sometimes his outfits are eyesores--here the blue velvet coat, brown gloves, and grey Inverness cloak work in perfect harmony.

Beneath the Mandalorian's Helmet is Batman's Cowl

What a squandered opportunity. Last night's new Mandalorian featured an amazing guest cast with the standout being comedian Bill Burr as a mercenary named Mayfeld. I like Jon Favreau's decision to cast comedians in dramatically straight supporting roles though I understand why it's been controversial. But I think few could deny Bill Burr was the highlight of this episode. Working against a wretched script from Christopher Yost (sadly, showrunner on the upcoming Cowboy Bebop live action series), Burr's down-to-earth performance made his character one of the few that didn't go down like cardboard.

A Dirty Dozen style plot about a group of misfits working together to rescue a prisoner from a New Republic transport ship, the chance here for the show to indulge in morally grey characters and situations is eschewed in favour of establishing the Mandalorian (Pedro Pascal) as essentially the Batman of the Star Wars universe. The silly business about trying to get his mask off is worthy of the Adam West series.

Aside from Burr's character, the team consists of a Twi'lek played with a little charm and too much inexplicable hostility by Natalia Tena and a Devaronian played with impressive physicality by Clancy Brown. There's also a droid (Richard Ayoade). Instead of participating in his comrades' ball-busting, or even giving as good as he gets, the Mandalorian stays quiet as a monk, never seeming like he has any kind of interest in or connexion to these people. Which would be nice and mysterious if there were any mystery about his guy's motives which have so far been as consistent as sunrise. When the others betray him for vague, contrived plot purposes, he beats them all up without killing any of them and locks them up.

Disney, I know how well your superhero movies are doing, but, come on, play another note. At least it's not as bad as the Three Stooges style Imperials from Rebels' first season but it almost is.

The conclusion of the episode brings in X-Wings, disappointingly lacking any John Williams' fanfare because I think Disney's taking this opportunity to avoid paying Williams all the time. Dave Filoni makes a cameo as one of the X-Wing pilots who decide to blow up a station for reasons the show really needed to elaborate on. If he thought the second Death Star was too ambiguous, Randall from Clerks would have a field day with this one. Which is funny--the Mandalorian isn't allowed to show any moral ambiguity himself but the New Republic is because of lazy or hasty writing?

Twitter Sonnet #1307

A gummy blizzard dropped the bears and worms.
A flying hell obscures the dusty skies.
A hist'ry thunders on in weather terms.
The rails connect in loosely fitting ties.
A second source amends important facts.
Perspective changed a malt to milky shake.
In open rooms the fellows published pacts.
A row of cups were offered out to take.
A frozen pie divided built the cliff.
The ice dispersed from off the mountain's veins.
Discordant beats provoke another "if".
The hunter dragged a goose for all his pains.
A knowing pony took the trav'ler home.
A bigger horse observes a sunless dome.

Too Natural

Wouldn't life be better if we were all closer to nature? Just don't get too close like Frank Halton in E.F. Benson's 1912 short story "The Man Who Went Too Far". Using robust and beautiful language, Benson creates a sense of heady, rapturous natural beauty which has a nicely subtle, creepy effect that pays off nicely.

H.P. Lovecraft, in his essay on supernatural horror, wrote, "'The Man Who Went Too Far' breathes whisperingly of a house at the edge of a dark wood, and of Pan’s hoof-mark on the breast of a dead man." Which sounds pretty ominous but the story begins with language that recalls something more like an exuberant pastoral poem.

Winds whisper in the birches, and sigh among the firs; bees are busy with their redolent labour among the heather, a myriad birds chirp in the green temples of the forest trees, and the voice of the river prattling over stony places, bubbling into pools, chuckling and gulping round corners, gives you the sense that many presences and companions are near at hand.

This is part of a grand set up, a florid description that takes up a few paragraphs before the characters are introduced and the story begins. A man named Darcy visits his wealthy friend, Frank. The 35 year-old Frank looks remarkably young and happy and throughout the story he explains to Darcy how it has to do with an extraordinary communion he's achieved with nature. He describes it as "the deliberate and unswerving pursuit of joy," his theory being that animals experience a sort of primal joy unknown to humans. There are some subtle rules to it and the story describes how Frank loves the sight of a happy old woman but abhors the sight of an injured child. He talks about some great, final secret yet to be revealed to him and Darcy suggests that the secret might be that suffering is ultimately behind everything, since that's a component seen in abundance in nature but seems peculiarly absent from Frank's experiences so far.

It all reminded me a bit of how 19th century Gothic writers were reacting to the love and reverence for nature exhibited by the Romantics and the Transcendentalists. Like Moby Dick demonstrated the natural world isn't all Leaves of Grass.

The character of Pan appears in the end, perhaps showing the influence of Arthur Machen but "The Man Who Went Too Far" is a nice piece of horror in its own right.

Featured above: The Pilgrim in the Garden by Edward Burne-Jones.

Villains and Something Else

Two very different and very good stories are woven together for a dark, excellent episode of Farscape. A heist gone wrong plot forces some of our heroes to work with Scorpius temporarily while, back on Moya, the rest of the crew find themselves having to make hard decisions about Talyn.

Season Three, Episode 19: I-Yensch, You-Yensch

From the beginning, Talyn's personality has been a source of worry. And it's a testament to the show how distinctly that personality comes across from a being with no voice or facial expressions. He exists like a loose hypothesis, provoking the viewer to project his or her own concepts of childhood development and parenthood on this hybrid between a gunship and a peaceful Leviathan. Is Talyn conflicted because of his hybrid nature? Is it because Crais (Lani Tupu) kidnapped him, depriving him of less stabilising influences? Now Crais is in a place to feel the burden of his own past decisions. He's horrified when Talyn opens fire on and destroys a ship of innocent civilians for no apparent reason.

I like how subdued Ben Browder and Claudia Black choose to play Crichton and Aeryn in this episode. There's no yelling at Crais or Talyn or Pilot (Lani Tupu), none of the usual bickering. You can see the weight of these terrible developments on them both in the form of a profound weariness. The only spark is when Crichton observes Aeryn is asking his opinion on something, signifying she has, indeed, accepted him as Crichton.

Meanwhile, Rygel (Jonathan Hardy) and D'Argo (Anthony Simcoe) are meeting with Scorpius (Wayne Pygram) at a diner to hammer out a deal to get Crichton aboard the Command Carrier when the three of them are attacked by none other than Ben Mendelsohn.

Yes, season three began with the villain from Mad Max: Fury Road and now we see the villain from Rogue One. He plays one of a pair of alien wolf brothers who were hired to burn down the diner for insurance fraud. Of course, Mendelsohn is good, managing to be a bit subtle behind the makeup and barking and his own drool. You can see him working out this strange situation he's stumbled on.

I also really like Rygel's role in this episode. I like when he's employed as a negotiator though he's really not great at it, taking every opportunity to insult the Peacekeepers. But he does so with a gentler tone of voice than usual.

. . .

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

Some Witches Kill

A stopped clock is right twice a day so maybe once in a while the Salem witch trials caught a real, murderous witch. 1971's Death by Invitation tells the story of such a witch and one of her descendants, centuries later, taking revenge on her enemies' descendants. A very low budget horror film with exceptionally bad sound--ADR and foley--it also has surprisingly nice wardrobe and tasteful production design as well as good performances, particularly a spell-binding lead performance by Shelby Leverington, who was destined, over twenty years later, to briefly play a transporter beam operator on an episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation. At least she can always say she did Death by Invitation and, while it's far from a perfect film, she certainly shines in it.

Most the film is set in the present day with intermittent flashbacks to a Puritan mob stoning and beating an unnamed witch (Leverington). In the present day, a young woman also played by Leverington is the daughter-in-law of Peter Vroot, played by Aaron Philips, who also played the leader of the witch's persecutors. This new incarnation of the witch, Lise, is slowly picking off all of Peter's children, starting with her own husband. In one striking scene, Peter sends his youngest daughter upstairs to see what's detaining his eldest daughter. The little girl opens the door to surprise Lise in the act of decapitating the elder daughter.

I love the idea that the monster is surprised and startled; somehow it makes the moment creepier.

Leverington has great presence as an elegant fatale, cool and contemplative with a cigarette. One man she kills for fun; when he tries to pick her up she takes him home and the camera gives us an extreme close-up as she tells a story about an ancient tribe where women were the hunters and they kept men in submissive, domestic roles. There seems an obvious comment intended by the filmmakers on radical 70s feminism--this was only a few years after the SCUM Manifesto. Who is our male hero who can stand up to this kind of talk? None other than Norman Parker, who would go on to play patriarch Robert Keaton on Family Ties.

I love that rust vest but she wears it with a better blouse earlier in the film.

As a character named Jake, fiance to one of Lise's friends, Parker's about 65% repulsive and 35% charming, enough to create genuine sexual tension between himself and Lise. There's a fascinating ambiguity in the play for dominance between the two of them. She tries to play with him like she does her other victims only to find her moves increasingly forestalled by his small, physical aggressions. But when he takes her wrist or kisses her before she can decide if she wants him to, we also have to bear in mind that a substantial pile of bodies are building up thanks to her vendetta and he hasn't even guessed. In one sense, he's taking control, in another, the whole situation is a facade she's constructed.

But perhaps murder isn't adequate satisfaction when she finds herself physically and emotionally responding to Jake's advances. She takes him back to her apartment because he insists--but did she really have to--and she starts telling him that same story about the tribe of female hunters. But she's clearly rattled. What does it all mean exactly? The intriguing question is what does it mean for her campaign of vengeance over the centuries. The movie wisely refrains from providing an answer.

Death by Invitation is available on Amazon Prime.

Twitter Sonnet #1306

A stomach built about the stone condensed.
As clouds of thinking guts advanced a thought.
Conducted fuel through engine thrust commenced.
Contracted flights conceived an airy knot.
A message moves across the clock and waits.
The time resides in ash and scattered smoke.
The walls of books define the storied gates.
Attempts to climb insured a heel was broke.
A narrow stair was shaved to rugged hill.
Between the crossing shade it rose above.
On papers nailed to rock was writ the bill.
A round of numbers stood for offered love.
As distant worlds connect at once they blink.
Arrival looks forever like the brink.

The Only One

In the history of cinema, few killers have been as passive as Robert De Niro's Frank Sheeran. Oddly enough, it's completely credible and at the heart of what makes The Irishman so good. Seeing director Martin Scorsese team with Robert De Niro and Joe Pesci again, with the addition of Al Pacino, for a movie about gangsters, one might expect something like Goodfellas or Casino. In some ways it is--rhythm of the dialogue, the complexity of the characters. But while those other two films were analyses of the worlds of gangs and greed, The Irishman simply uses that world to tell another story. Scorsese couldn't really do otherwise in a world that now has The Sopranos. And the Irishman is a brilliant step in the evolution of the gangster film.

We meet Sheeran in a nursing home and he recounts his story apparently to thin air. The film was based on a non-fiction book called I Heard You Paint Houses consisting mainly of an interview with the real Sheeran. But the isolation of De Niro's Sheeran, the idea that he has to tell his story to an empty room, underlines his tragedy very well.

Working as a truck driver, the young Sheeran first meets Russell Bufalino (Pesci), a major figure in the Bufalino crime family. At that point, he's just a nice man who helps fix Frank's truck. Gradually, Frank falls into the sequence of reciprocal favours that makes him a hitman for the mob.

A flashback to World War II shows how he first became comfortable with killing, ordering two prisoners to dig their own grave, in retrospect only wondering why the prisoners did it since they must have known what would happen. No remorse, no horror. From obeying the orders of the U.S. government he goes to obeying orders of his friends.

It's sweet watching the relationship between Frank and Russ but Frank grows even closer to the man he's assigned to protect, union leader Jimmy Hoffa (Al Pacino). Hoffa gradually starts to confide in him, they share hotel rooms, and their families get to know each other. But we all know what happened to Hoffa--well, we all don't know, exactly.

The break between Russ and Jimmy introduces the first real conflict in Frank's life. When he tries to explain himself to his daughter later he's reduced to helpless stutters, not simply because the subject deals with matter he can't reveal but because it deals with things he can't articulate, truths he'd followed instinctively all his life. He's not equipped to talk to people who don't feel the same way, which inevitably leads to isolation for this man for whom friendships are everything.

The much talked about de-aging in the film isn't perfect but it certainly does a good enough job. If I can accept Steven McQueen in The Blob, I can certainly accept Robert De Niro here. And these really were the best actors for the roles. With so many movies to-day where the dialogue is endlessly simple and explicit, it's refreshing to see a movie that knows how silences communicate. How we can watch, without anyone ever saying it, Frank informing Jimmy his life's in danger and Jimmy's reaction, showing just the right level of hubris to miss Frank's point about a basic sense of loyalty which Jimmy mistakenly sees as a system of blackmail. A lovely film and a lovely showcase for these actors.

The Irishman is available on NetFlix.

Rene Auberjonois

There are many reasons one might know Rene Auberjonois, who passed away yesterday at the age of 79. From Benson, from his appearances in Robert Altman movies, from Boston Legal. I was delighted to hear his voice in Fallout: New Vegas and I was always creeped out by his skeleton in The Last Unicorn when I was little. But, like many people, for me he was mainly Constable Odo on Deep Space Nine. Last night I watched one of the episodes I used to watch over and over in high school, the second season noir homage "Necessary Evil".

Season two is my favourite season of Deep Space Nine. It's far enough from the premiere that the rough edges have been mostly smoothed out and it's before the showrunners started trying to incorporate more traditional Star Trek elements in season three, like the Defiant. I like the Defiant and many other aspects of the series post-season two but two seems like the high water mark of what the show set out to be in the beginning; a place resting on several economic, political, and cultural fault lines slowly trying to heal from horrible recent history. "Necessary Evil" is a prime example because half of it is flashbacks to when the station was controlled by the Cardassians occupying Bajor. And there's a concept lending itself perfectly to a noir plot like Out of the Past or Witness for the Prosecution.

Quark (Armin Shimerman) is shot and Odo is compelled to reopen a murder investigation dating back to the Cardassian occupation--his first job as the station's investigator, in fact. Assigned to the post by Gul Dukat who suspects the shapeshifter will have a knack for the job, we see Odo's first efforts at interrogation and, indeed, his keen skills of observation honed in the interest of perfecting his imitation of humanoids enables him to spot signs of duplicity, among other things.

Now a more experienced detective in the present, he's forced to reassess his earlier judgements. This was Odo at his best, in my opinion. My interest in the character diminished when every episode about him became about his connexion to his people and his emotional vulnerability. Auberjonois could play both brilliantly but I preferred the hard nosed detective with just a hint of oddly childlike, earnest vulnerability.

Maybe if the show were resurrected we wouldn't see Odo, anyway. Maybe they could recast the character since he is a shapeshifter, after all. But it would seem like sacrilege now continuing without Auberjonois who was a very big part of what made Deep Space Nine one of the highlights of the Star Trek canon.

No Time for Angels

Mainly I really love the Eleventh Doctor's first season on Doctor Who but I find revisiting the Weeping Angel two parter, "The Time of the Angels"/"Flesh and Stone", to be a series of disappointments and missed opportunities. Maybe it was inevitable the Angels' return after the legendary "Blink" would be a letdown but the number of bad choices Steven Moffat made with their second appearance is kind of amazing.

One problem may be that he loads them up with too many new rules in the two parter. I do like the idea that the image of an Angel becomes an Angel though it's a bit confusing and lends itself to potential muddle. Amy (Karen Gillen) staring at the security screen while the Doctor (Matt Smith) and River (Alex Kingston) try to get in to her is pretty good but the Angel's power to lock the door so that the Doctor can't get in even with his sonic screwdriver seems like an awfully convenient power manifested for a plot moment that I don't remember seeing again (though I could be wrong).

Almost as deflatingly convenient is Amy's ability to manoeuvre between Angels with her eyes closed while pretending to walk like her eyes are open.

Too much in the episode happens or works without much sense. The Doctor's climactic idea in the first episode to have everyone jump up to the artificial gravity on the crashed ship on the ceiling seems like it would have resulted in a few twisted ankles or broken necks. Wouldn't it be like jumping head-first into an empty swimming pool?

I do love the scene at the end where Amy tries to seduce the Doctor though it already has the seeds of Rory's disappointing tenure as a companion. This was the last chance to see the Doctor and Amy as a duo though there's also the complicating presence of River Song, who at least isn't as airlessly high concept as she'll become in the following season. I've said before how stilted and unsatisfying her character ultimately is but I do love her in the library two parter she's introduced in. I feel like she could've used at least one more episode with the Tenth Doctor to make her immediately recognising him in the library make more sense. But maybe Big Finish will cover that base if it hasn't already.

I love the idea of the starving angels losing their shapes and capacity for speed. I also like Iain Glen in this story as a soldier/clergyman.

Ultimately, the two parter feels like an attempt to place such a radically new kind of monster for Doctor Who into a more traditional package of running and escaping. The Angels just aren't suited for it and they never again hit he high watermark of "Blink".

Twitter Sonnet #1305

Tomato orbs were red as shirts in rock.
Remembered crew awaits in iron dreams.
A V arranged of wings assayed the loch.
A newer sun appeared in scratchy beams.
Decision seas present the choices borne.
A winding watch declares the strangest hand.
From mountains rivers late were slowly torn.
The image blurred to make a fuzzy band.
A boiled buggy melts the mile ice.
The burning treads dissolved the hardened lake.
The knowing bird announced the timing twice.
The cake decides the perfect choice to bake.
A mote of will demurs in frying fog.
Entire armies move to kill a frog.

Back to Old Tatooine

Written and directed by Dave Filoni, last night's new Mandalorian, "The Gunfighter", was one of the better episodes of the series so far and the episode that felt most like a Western. Filoni's instincts as an animation director still aren't translating well to live action but a nice guest cast that included Amy Sedaris and Ming-Na Wen bolstered a plot that finally gave the Mandalorian an opportunity to come across as savvy and experienced.

I wasn't expecting to see Amy Sedaris as a mechanic on Tatooine but she was a very welcome surprise. The star of the great comedy series Strangers with Candy, Sedaris is known for deeply ironic comedy but she plays it more or less straight here and has easily the strongest performance in the episode. The main plot involves a young bounty hunter played by Jake Cannavale whom the Mandalorian (Pedro Pascal) takes under his wing. Cannavale may not be an especially bad actor but there seemed to be something tonally off about him, possibly due partly to Filoni's inexperience as a live action director. But it occurred to me the reason Sedaris worked so well may be the same reason Werner Herzog works so well and Harrison Ford works so well. Being a good actors is helpful but primarily what all three have is a strong internal world. Each one has mannerisms that are simultaneously odd and yet credible, the organic manifestation of personality that's harder to replicate than it is for some character actors just to allow to manifest naturally. This natural personality lends credibility to everything else in the special effects heavy productions. If these weirdos believe it, somehow it makes us believe it too.

I also like how Sedaris' big curly wig made her look like a parody of Ellen Ripley in the first Alien movie.

The Tatooine location was nice to see and a good backdrop for a dumb protege gone bad Western plot. This is more like an old Hollywood Western than one of the Spaghetti Westerns the show's supposedly patterned after--it kind of reminded me of an Anthony Mann movie. It was sabotaged a little by the ongoing and increasingly stupid concept of a bounty hunter guild. What exactly are the benefits of joining the guild instead of looking for posted bounties and collecting rewards on your own? Health insurance? Did Boba Fett say, "Sure, I'll take a pay cut for this." The guild could've been easily excised from the episode by having the kid, Toro, striving to make a reputation for himself instead of trying to get into the guild. The interest in capturing or killing the Mandalorian could've been established simply by a bounty being put on the Mandalorian's head. Sure, we could say that the senselessness of a bounty hunter guild is something we could ignore to enjoy the ride except it was pointless to introduce it in the first place. It's like some dead, vestigial limb and it makes it harder for the show to put its pant on.

I really liked the Mandalorian negotiating with the Tusken Raiders and taking Toro's binoculars without asking. He really felt like a Spaghetti Western hero for a moment and I liked Filoni seemingly taking a dig at the type of annoying young guy he has such inexplicable fondness for in his animation work.

The Continuing Variety of Alien Life

The remaining members of Talyn's crew in Farscape season three return to Moya in an episode that also features a few unexpected guests. On a crowded Leviathan, it's especially hard to find a turncoat.

Season Three, Episode Eighteen: Fractures

And Aeryn (Claudia Black) now has to confront the other Crichton (Ben Browder). Mostly she does this with silence and brief courteous acknowledgements. I suppose this is understandable but it's a difficult situation to even imagine. The idea that Crichton might be jealous of his other self is brought up but his behaviour doesn't come off that way. He seems stunned mostly, which, again, is understandable.

The main plot of the episode focuses more on a fascinating motley of escaped Peacekeeper prisoners--a Scarran male (Nicholas McCay), a Hynerian woman named Orrhn (Alexandra Fowler), an Intersex Nebari named Hubero (Kate Beahan), and a member of a species called Boolite who can survive after his body has exploded. Moya's crew are obliged to clean up the body parts and reconstruct this strange sentient being.

Jool (Tammy MacIntosh) and Crais (Lani Tupu) are obliged to do the reconstruction. This is a strange context for Crais and it's easily his funniest part in the series as he's forced to politely follow Jool's condescending instructions and criticisms in his handling of raw brain matter and unidentifiable organs.

It would have been nice to see more of Hubero but Kate Beahan is beautiful and gives a good performance. Hubero and Chiana (Gigi Edgley) comparing notes about being outcast Nebari is nice.

Rygel (Jonathan Hardy) surprisingly enough has the lion's share of drama in this episode as his belief in his own majesty blinds him to the machinations of the attractive Orrhn. The poor little guy just never seems to stop falling from his grand height. Sometimes its funny watching him suffer indignities but by this point I just feel bad for him and his every pointed line in the climax was a satisfying little spark.

. . .

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