The one hundred thirty-seventh TV show: #29 Eurovision Song Contest
With the proper Eurovision Song Contest cancelled this year - appointment viewing for us - we've been following along with the recent live rewatches that have been happening on Saturday evenings. Most of these have been reposted on Youtube as well, and so since it's not on tomorrow, we used today to watch an old one that won't be shared as much - just to get that full coverage. And because we were curious about Abba's competition, we thought 1974 would work as a nice option.
It feels like, at times, you are either into the contest or don't care for it at all. We have been faithful viewers for years now and so most of the repeats were familiar. These days, it does feel like a spectacle, with a variation of styles and attempts, with the smaller songs sometimes working better to win than the ones that go huge. And despite the controversies and arguments, for the most part these are friendly arguments, in a friendly competition. Most countries try, and while there are some bloc voting accusations, rewatching these show that, at the very least, it's normally a top three song that wins, as well as the stand out at times. It's best to get into the spirit, embrace the campiness - that wasn't quite there in the seventies, and has been reduced a bit lately, but is also what makes the whole thing just a lot of fun.
The one hundred thirty-sixth TV show: #598 Curb Your Enthusiasm
It's taken us quite a while to come back to Curb, having watched it some time ago. We were watching it for a while, but two episdes into the fourth season we gave up. Now, watching more, it actually became clear why. This is written around cringe comedy, with Larry's attitude and people surrounding them creating a situation where it all falls apart. I don't think Larry is likeable, he gets into these situations too often, and the characters around him are the same - I can't sympathize with them. At the same time, the moments of cringe are too much, too painful and not entertaining. I can see why it's acclaimed - there are many moments of brilliance and genius - but especially in these times I don't think I can connect with them.
The ninetieth book: #74 Frankenstein - Mary Shelley
Thanks to a summarized retelling of the book by the podcast Fictional, I knew that this book wasn't quite like what the movies and pop culture portrayed. The monster's creation is a small part of the story, with no observers or an Igor really present. Instead, the story focuses on Frankenstein dealing with what he created, throughout trying to escape responsibility - abandoning the monster until it gets his attention by murdering his loved ones. Even when asked to make a companion for the monster, he starts but destroys the creature in disgust.
As much as he frets about his relationship - mostly a courtship of his adopted cousin - it reads as a standard romance novel and really is just a set up for the horrendous things happening around him. The monster's story about how he survives afterwards is the more interesting description of his life, and his descriptions of his struggles to find any meaning are harrowing. Even after Frankenstein's death, the monster can't find peace, and the tragedy is his, as much as his creator wants otherwise. It's a powerful story that resonates now, even if popular culture didn't follow up.
The one hundred thirty-fifth TV show: #442 Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit
While I don't think I've felt the true religious pressure on the LGBT, I've seen enough of the periphery of it to make me uncomfortable. I've once decided not to pursue a job opportunity because of it. As such, while I don't have as direct an experience with these issues, I can sympathize and understand how hard it is. This story of Jess, an adopted girl from the north west of England. Starting off as a semi-comedy, it morphs into a darker story as she discovers her feelings for another woman, then gets kicked out by her religious parents and gets shunned by most of her community.
As funny as the showcases of their missionary existence are - feeling as often like an excuse to hang out - the tone slowly shows how difficult it is, how much the church has brainwashed them and uses techniques like another cult to keep people in and behaving the way that's desired. It's a story of growing up and finding your independence and letting go off what is damaging you. It's a lovely series, one that makes you think and hits you where it hurts, even as it stays light.
The one hundred thirty-fourth TV show: #118 The Time Tunnel
The concept of a couple of people travelling through time, unable to control where they're going, is an interesting one, explored before on Doctor Who and, dimension or life hopping rather than time hopping, on shows like Sliders and Quantum Leap. To a lesser extent, most sci-fi shows seem to do time travel at some point, both as a different way to tell a story and, to be honest, because those are sets built for other production and so are cheaper to use.
The latter is the driving force of Time Tunnel, using both the sets and crowd scenes of existing productions, with a small guest cast for the actual stories. The success is, at best, mixed, a trilogy of alien stories and the end of the series working because of how bizarre it gets, but stories involving the fall of Jericho and a trip to the Moon doing quite less so. On the whole the show feels ambitious, a trend setter for American television, but flawed now, with too much action where some more dilemmas would have been better. There are places where that comes up, and that's when the episodes are more interesting than when we deal with the fall of Troy following the known beats. We didn't finish it, but it stayed a decent curiosity.
The eighty-sixth classical recording: #93 George Frideric Handel - Coronation Anthems
The four anthems in this set are known for, and paired here because of, their use in the British coronation rather than for their thematic link. The four are wonderful choral pieces, with Zodak the Priest feeling more singularly focused while others have more parts and feel more complex. As situational music, they feel more focused on their purpose and the length is more set for proceedings rather than what the piece needs. Still, that focus doesn't distract and they flow well on their own, the complexity of The King Shall Rejoice, for example, sounding wonderful. I suspect that, hearing this live, would be impressive.
The one hundred thirty-third TV show: #233 I, Claudius
While a lot of people might seek out something fun and distracting during the pandemic, we've ended up going for a historic drama set in Rome, a fictionalized account of Claudius' fictional memoirs and family history, set up at times as a dark comedy and just as often played as a soap opera. What it is, even more than that, is a show where a lot of great British actor give amazing performances, a stage play filmed and better designed. The centre of that cast is, of course, Claudius, played brilliantly by Derek Jacobi. It's hard to see how Charlton Heston would have played him, as the vulnerability, frailty and low status are such a part of his character while also standing up against the other big performances, just forceful enough to stay in focus and not fade. It's an amazing balancing act that is easy to overlook, but he walks the tightrope incredibly well.
The three other emperors show this most clearly. Augustus, played by Brian Blessed, is of course larger than life, well meaning but foolish, and the moment he shows respect for Claudius rather than ignoring him is one of the sweetest moments in there. George Baker's Tiberius always has anger lurking underneath the surface, a sense of insecurity that he feels he has to hide which puts him on that knife's edge all the time. But some of the most amazing scenes are between Claudius and John Hurt's Caligula, who seems otherworldly. His insanity goes between comedic and intimidating, always making you wonder what's happening, and somehow Derek Jacobi keeps being able to stand up to it where it feels like other actors are lessened in between. Livia, Augustus' wife and main driving force in the first half of the series, is an amazing tour de force, a camp villain that remains believable and sets the standard for schemers in the rest of the series (although I don't think any quite live up to it). Other stand outs are, of course, Patrick Stewart and Patricia Quinn, but there are many others. Sometimes they are overshadowed by some of the earlier performances, but (aside from some child actors) most do well, and it shows the talent in the West End at the time.
Add to that how they're working with a great script, hitting the right notes and balancing the serious and humorous sides, and some great directing that makes the best of the limited BBC budgets. Yeah, the sets are often reused, with a lot of happening being told about rather than shown, and the make up has its flaws, but it's not necessary with the performances on display. It's not hard to see why this is still remembered well - all of it still amazing and something that's unlikely we'll see again.
The two hundred and fourth album: #204 Syd Barrett - The Madcap Laughs
I feel the history of this album might be as interesting as the music itself, the product of mental health issues that come through in different ways. The first track, Terrapin, is a relaxing, blues number, calming you down and leading you through a slow increase in manic energy, first culminating in a darker, distorted No Man's Land that feels unsettling.
Still though, it feels like there's no real rhyme or reason to the songs included on the album - probably partially due to the disjointed nature of its recording. Two tracks later, we get Here I Go, a simple rock song that reminds me of those of the early sixties, even when Barrett's vocals don't quite meet the standards of the day. That's what makes it disconcerting, but other than that it's a sweet song about a break up, naive in how it presents its point of view.
Added to that is that the Dave Gilmour produced tracks feel looser than the Malcolm Jones ones, and you get a progression that is a bit unsettling, with the latter (mostly earlier in the album) standing out as the better songs. Whie probably down to the producers' stances (and possibly annoyance with how the production was going), the contracts beteen If It's You and Here I Go is startling, both coming from the same type of music, but with fastly different production and sound. It feels like it does Syd Barrett a disservice, but at the same time you can understand how it all would have happened. It's the work of someone who's a tortured genius, I'm sure, but where his trouble led to an album that just couldn't hold up.
The one hundred thirty-second TV show: #870 Black Mirror
It's hard to talk about an anthology series here. It's even harder considering it took us the better part of a year to get through, as some of the episodes, especially early on, were quite heavy. And while not all episodes have a twist, it's a show that's easy enough to spoil while they episodes are best when it's not.
The show addresses the consequences of technology, the problems that come from its adoption and use and how it could or would influence society. Most of it is set in a near(ish) future, a further development of technology we already have (as much as we need to make for a good story). The series retraces some steps sometimes, not always successfully, but on the whole has enough different perspectives to stay interesting. Bandersnatch's commentary on choice, for example, feels like not many others could have done it, while the different takes on virtual reality have some interesting ideas. Even the weaker episode has something interesting and worthwhile in there, and often something is worth watching.
The one hundred thirty-first TV show: #144 Monty Python's Flying Circus
After finally getting through some other shows, I thought I'd go back to Monty Python - it had been a while since I'd seen it and would make for a nice diversion in a difficult time. Having watched the first twenty episodes - probably about half of the best era of the show - it's been welcoming as we watched at least two episodes most nights. Now, some of it is quite dated - there's more blackface than there should be, for example - but the show holds up. It's not as innovative as it might have been at the time, with things like odd transitions being more common in comedy, especially the alt comedy scene.
What's more delightful, however, is how incredibly silly the show gets. It gets weird, it gets side tracked and feels like it keeps doing its own things, sometimes with non sequiturs or diversions that lead nowhere, or as often with a normal, well developed sketch that's just written and performed well. It goes broad sometimes, but just as often is as smart as you'd think. It's a writer's show, with the writers performing their work as well, but focusing on performing that the best rather than adding their own thing to the show. It's stayed watchable, and especially when you find the relative gems - not the few scenes that are repeated by everyone, but the weird bits that just sit there without as much acknowledgement from the world as a whole.