Chateau Lloyd

Back in 2013, we still had a dish, and watched lots of the various streaming channels.  That was supposed the new Golden Age of television, thanks to programs like Breaking Bad, The Sopranos, Justified, and so on.  While Hollywood was busy getting woke, the streaming services and networks were able to produce long-form dramas without being bound by a 22-episode season.  What was more, it was easy to catch up on a sleeper hit, and when each season was released, one could binge-watch it in a week or so.

That time has passed, but it produced a number of shows available on DVD, and one of them we liked was The White Queen, a series based on Philippa Gregory's historical novels of the Wars of the Roses.

The concept of telling history through the eyes of women is nothing new, and goes back to the beginning of writing.  For every story of a king or warrior, there are parallel tales of the women who influenced them.  Feminists like to pretend that The Patriarchy silenced women, but most have never bothered to read the Bible or Homer or any other ancient work.

Anyhow, the story of Elizabeth Woodville lends itself to this approach and it is one of those remarkable historic events that turns everything upside down.  For those who don't know, one day King Edward IV is riding along after having won a battle  and sees a beautiful young woman waiting by the side of the road for news of her husband, who was a knight on the side opposing Edward (the Lancastrians).  She learns she is a widow, but the King offers to "comfort" her.  Remarkably she refuses his advances and insists that he marry if he wants to get it on.  So he does.

This completely upends the power structure in England, because it is bitterly divided between competing factions vying for control, and Edward was supposed to make a political marriage, not a romantic one.  Anyhow, drama ensues.

This is not a lavishly produced show, but it does a good job of conveying the period, and there's some battles and sword fights because leading characters did die in the conflict.  In fact, the Wars of the Roses were something of a sideshow for the commoners but a bloodbath for the nobility, and many royal lines were 'pruned' from the family tree.

The show has excellent performances, and follows the history reasonably well, but does veer into the all-to-familiar conventions of showing secret witchcraft influencing events and indulging in pretty graphic sex scenes, which at this point my life I find really boring.  It get it, they had sex.  Why is this is any way interesting to watch?

If one knows the history well, it will be maddening at times, but it does try to keep things reasonably close to accurate, and the various personalities are presenting in interesting ways.  The dynamics of the York brothers is well done, as is the way the various factions maneuver for control. 

I will particularly single out Amanda Hale's Margaret Beaufort, the mother of Henry VII, who comes across as an absolute fanatic.  Given that her son was something like 10th in the line of succession when the story starts, I'm not sure I buy the notion that she thought he could somehow overcome Henry VI, his son Edward, the three York brothers (Edward, Richard and George), and their sons and potential sons.  It think in reality it was more of a "Well, who is left?  You're up, Henry!"

Anyway, I've watched it through a couple of times, and it still holds up well.  Folks who like Game of Thrones will particularly enjoy this, in large part because the ending makes sense.  Indeed, once you see it, you'll realize who derivative George R.R. Martin's work was.

I recently watched Tomorrow Never Dies for the first time since seeing it in the theater.  I had a blast, really enjoyed the movie, but part of that was that it seems so absurd and campy.  The 1990s were a tough era for spy movies because the ultimate showdown of the Cold War was over.  Russia lay prostrate, and who could possibly challenge the triumphant West?

The idea of a media mogul serving as an arch-villain seemed something of a stretch, but it worked, and the fact that he had a stealth catamaran (we were all about "stealth" in the 90s) and vintage-looking henchmen made for good fun.  There was also a nod to Communist China's increasing influence and importance and the naive hope that maybe China might open up more.

Pierce Brosnan is excellent, and the sequence of him driving his car from the backseat is just brilliant.  Tense, bordering on the absurd, and there are a couple of moments when he smiles to himself that almost breaks character, but doesn't because Bond would also be enjoying himself.

Jonathan Pryce's Elliott Carver was a thinly-disguised parody of Rupert Murdoch, long a conservative bugbear to the left (particularly the British left).  The notion that a private citizen should gain the ability to weaponize information against democratic government was somewhat sinister, but nothing compared to what actually happened, which is that oligarchs aligned themselves with governments to subvert democracy at the source.

Since the film came out in 1997, that's exactly what happened, with hoaxes and manipulation rapidly growing in scope and sophistication.  At this point, its pervasive, and one can only look at Carver's plot as amateurish.  Why foment a war between Communist China and Britain if you can simply make Britain into Communist China?

I think this is the only Bond movie with actual social commentary.

I'm generally accepting of most hobbies, especially collecting.  Whether postage stamps or model trains, I tend not to judge.

However, the other day I came across Adam Savage describing his prop sci-fi blaster collection and this gave me a moment of pause.  On the one hand, I am the guy who authored a lengthy series on Geek Guns, which was centered on movie prop weapons.

However, the notion behind that article was to discuss firearms rather than the qualities of fictional weapons.

Moreover, film props are - by definition - cheap, the bare minimum one can use to get by.  Molded rubber is a common material, because all it has to do is look good on the camera.  Some years ago I went to the Star Wars: The Magic of Myth prop exhibition and was amazed at how poorly made everything was.  Darth Vader's suit was kind of ratty, whip-stitched together in parts, but it didn't matter because it was so dark, the camera would never pick it up.

That's props in a nutshell - all about creating an illusion.  I can get buying an actual prop because that's a part of the movie set and its history.  Making a costume makes sense, and one would have to have a prop weapon as part of that.

But the notion of paying top dollar for an imitation of a prop seems strange to me.

Also puzzling was Savage's lack of knowledge about what he was collecting.  He mentioned one of the props from Pulp Fiction was a Star Model B pistol, and that he had to work out where to find one.  Well, they are not uncommon and go for cheap.  I know a friend who bought one not long ago for that reason.

Working firearms are of course in a completely different category in terms of function and legal status, and that also adds a bit of weirdness to the discussion as creating a prop from a functioning firearm would require its deactivation, which is odious to me, especially if it is vintage and in short supply.  Go with a foam-injected version with some gubbins!

At any rate, it is interesting to see how collector circles intersect but also diversge.

Watching Baz Luhrmann's Moulin Rouge is something of a Valentine's Day tradition at Chateau Lloyd.  The film came out around the time we were married, is quite fun and creative, and we bought the DVD shortly after our second child was born, so there are many happy memories associated with it.

As the years have passed, however, we've watched it with a more critical eye, noticing various gaffes but also subtleties that we overlooked.

There are some overt references to faith, usually in a humorous way, such as the sendup of "Like a Virgin," however there are some deeper elements in play.

Foremost among them is the salvation message for Satine and of course Christian (what's in a name!).  On the face of it, there isn't much of a story, because Satine is a prostitute, and even though she may care for Christian, one more (final) customer should be no big deal.  But, as "Like a Virgin" illustrates, she now sees the sinfulness of what she did.  She longs to be faithful to him, and yes, part of this is about control.

But it is also a rejection of the lie that sexual promiscuity is liberating.  The "Lady Marmalade" number at the beginning of the film glamorizes prostitution, with the revised lyrics emphasizing its benefits.

Satine's preference for a monogamous relationship can also be contrasted with "Roxanne," in which the titular character is not willing to give up her trade.

The point is that even generally secular films used to have conventionally religious morality in them.  It is difficult to imagine such a film now because Hollywood is determined to push both sexual deviancy and non-monogamy.  Two decades ago, it was still possible to view homosexuality (which is briefly shown or touched upon several times in the film) as deviant and decadent.  

Is Moulin Rouge as Catholic as The Crow?  Of course not.  But in addition to the romance arc, there is also the sense of guardianship over Satine, evidenced by Chocolat repeated coming to her aid in the manner of a guardian angel.

Having chugged through the James Bond franchise over the last few weeks, I feel comfortable saying that Pierce Brosnan has a credible claim at being the best 007.

Timothy Dalton made a good tough guy, but he was almost completely lacking in charm.  Brosnan is awash in charm, and carries himself with a breezy reserve that hints at mystery, yet he can also pull of a cold rage.  The tank chase scene in Goldeneye derives much of its entertainment power in Brosnan's amused yet serious expression.  He's serious, but also knows that the whole scenario if absurd.  That kind of perspective is what makes him a credible secret agent.

That's particularly important because Bond requires the actor to not only be a good liar, but allow him to convey he knows he is lying and doesn't care.

As for the plot of Goldeneye, it is very much rooted in its time, which makes it one of the best of the series.  The bitter holdouts of the Soviet regime, Western retrenchment and even the feminization of the intelligence service makes it one of the more compelling stories.

I'm continuing to work through my James Bond dvd boxed set, and have now finished the Timothy Dalton era.  I like Dalton as an actor, but he's clearly not cut out to be Bond.  He's tough enough, but has zero charm.  

That's fine for some films, and he's got a tough guy aura, which some women may find attractive, but he's better as an assassin or villain than a hero.  He just doesn't come off as able to pull off Bond-level deception, breezily lying about who he is.

And the movies convey this.  The Living Daylights is pretty dull, clearly an attempt to tone down some of the excesses of the Roger Moore period (Moonraker comes to mind).  The problem is that the "grim, gritty" take is not much fun to watch, and it's undermined by the usual gadgetry.

License to Kill is more of a return to form, but again, it's a revenge film, not a spy picture.  Dalton does a casino scene so he can meet the villain, but the deception is really short-lived.  I like the return of Bond babes in slinky outfits, and I thought the idea of Bond stealing a bunch of cartel cash and living his best life with it would have made a full movie, rather than just a couple of scenes.  Cut out the whole Felix Leiter bit, and just do that, which would be fun.

Basically, do the season cliffhanger from Miami Vice, where Sonny Crockett loses himself in his gangster alter ego.  Having a British dude become a drug lord would be great.

Or could be, if you had someone other than Dalton doing it.

The spiritual victory delivered in November continues to produce visible effects in the material world.  The latest example has been an outpouring of Christmas greetings in my area.  Whereas people once chose the safe, vague "Happy Holidays," now those who offer it get a rousing "Merry Christmas," in return, which they enthusiastically repeat.

At every venue, every interaction, this is the norm rather than the exception.  It is almost a code word for defiant, resurgent faith.

Chateau Lloyd remained busy up until Christmas Day, when things calmed down and we spent much of the time eating, napping, and getting ready to eat, and then napping after we were done.  Truly a feast day for the ages.

The Children's Mass on Christmas Eve was packed as usual, and the student choir was excellent.  The mood could only be described as joyous.  

This is as it should be, and the bad memories of 2020 are quickly fading in the face of boisterous children with no memory of it, only the natural energy of youth.

In other news, the tide has turned decisively against my contention that Die Hard is not a Christmas movie.  Oh well.  I will stand my ground.

One of the Youtubers I watch, The Critical Drinker, recently highlighted a TV movies I'd never heard of before: Threads.  This apparently the British version of The Day After.  Both films attempt to depict what a nuclear conflict would actually be like with the not-so-subtle subtext that the US government would be in large part responsible for any nuclear exchange.

To put it another way, better Red than dead.

Anyhow, I never saw The Day After and feel no need to do.  I'm of the same mind regarding Threads, because I find the topic somewhat pointless and based on a stack of false premises, the most important one being: the worst thing in the world is death.

Again, I haven't watched either movie, though I have read plot synopsis, and the thrust of both is that lots of people dying is bad and it's terrible to not have nice things anymore.  Both overemphasize the lethality of nuclear fallout (very common, the same thing happened in the HBO Chernobyl series), and put great emphasis on the breakdown of society.

The thing is, we know how functional societies response to catastrophes.  We've had Hurricane Katrina and actual atomic bombs dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki.  Guess what?  Both Japanese cities are healthier and safer than Detroit or Chicago, which remain dangerous because of existing social conditions, not a one-time event.

Hollywood continues to push narratives where the only thing standing between our current sense of order and prosperity and utter bloodthirsty anarchy is some weird investment in the police or something.  Once the fear of punishment is withdrawn, even the inhabitants of quiet rural towns will suddenly start slaughtering one another.

This tells us far more about the authors than it does about society.  Remember, The Lord of the Flies was based upon the author's insecurities, not observable reality.  It turns out that a bunch of Christian boys ended up shipwrecked during WW II and they turned out fine.  They worked together, dividing up tasks and continuing to pray.  It could be a good story, if only someone wanted to tell it.

This brings me to another trope, which is that in a crisis, the militia/reservists/National Guard will immediately transform into SS Einsatzgruppen, lustily shooting their family, friends and neighbors because reasons.

I mean, at a certain level I get that these are horror films, wild fantasies designed to scare otherwise bored people out of their minds.

But at the same time they are only scary to people with no knowledge of God, people for whom death is the ultimate horror rather than merely a transition.

We all are going to die.  In fact, we will be dead far longer than we will be alive, and that's why religious people spend so much time in preparation for the life to come.  I think a lot of the horror of these films is that people might survive and then have to live for 30+ years until someone reinvents DVDs or something.

As part of my ongoing exploration of the movies of my youth, I finally watched Footloose.  Some might wonder why it took so long, and the answer is simply that the film never interested me.  I recall when it came out, because the title track was ubiquitous on the airwaves.  Having finally seen the film, I recognize that a great many other songs got serious airplay as well.

So it was very much of the zeitgeist.

But it was also about Kevin Bacon dancing, which did not interest me.  It still doesn't, but at least now I know what that looks like.

As for the plot, it's your standard 80s story of an outsider who stirs up a stagnant community and convinces it to lighten up and have fun.  This was a recurring trope as the Baby Boomers sought to establish dominance over the popular culture.  In this they were wildly successful, as proven by the massive national debt and collapse of both marriage and birth rates.  We're just partying all the time now, man.

I was somewhat impressed at how the story developed, however.  John Lithgow's stuck-up preacher had more nuance than I was expecting and proved to be a genuinely dynamic character who evolved rather than simply changed all his opinions at once.

That's one element sorely missing in today's films.  Characters just flip back and forth without any rhyme or reason.

Another aspect I appreciated with the respect accorded to him as the patriarch of the family and a religious leader.  Today men are widely mocked and almost always proven wrong by their smarter wives or kids.  I'm not the first to noticed than men are shown to be buffoons, always in need of correction.  This is presumably because women do the shopping and like to feel validated.

Back in the day, however, men were still wise and responsible, and their opinions had weight.  Women earnestly worked to convince them and when they came around, it was about unity rather than dominance.

That attitude is in pretty short supply today, and if it's out there, it is only because of independent outfits like Angel Studios.

As for Footloose, I doubt I will watch it again.  Indeed, I think the fact that even during the height of the "watch party/VHS" era I never saw it shows how it scored a clean miss on my demographic.  We watched films like Airplane! and Animal House until we memorized every line, but Footloose never made it into the rotation because it was a date movie, and a bunch of guys hanging out didn't want to be reminded that we lacked girlfriends.

I will note that the whole "dancing is bad" thing made me laugh and I was pleased that the writers had Bacon's character cite instances from the Bible (highlighted of course by the preacher's daughter).  That was a nice touch.

Over the last few weeks I've intermittently been watching Nobel House, a 1988 miniseries based on the best-selling James Clavell novel.

The book was originally set in the 1960s, but was seamlessly brought into the late 1980s, and as such the 1997 handover of the Crown Colony to the Peoples' Republic of China loomed large.

This is a classic tale of corporate raiding ala Wall Street or Dynasty, but with a unique Asian twist.  Hong Kong is a fascinating place, and it dominated Clavell's thoughts for good reason.

In many ways, it is very much of its time, a Miami Vice set in the far east.  There are multiple levels of intrigue and of course remarkable shifts of fortune.  Pierce Brosnan, fresh from his Remington Steele work, is outstanding as Ian Dunross, heir and CEO to Noble House, a British firm founded along with the colony during the Opium Wars.  Noble House has moved on from opium and has weathered the Pacific War and Chinese Civil War, but struggles amidst the wild west 1980s environment of corporate raiders.  As the "Tai Pan" of Noble House, Dunross holds a special place in Hong Kong society, which is modern, cosmopolitan, but still beholden to Chinese traditions.

One of these involves a favor granted by a previous Tai Pan, signified by a broken coin.  Amidst corporate intrigue, the possession of this favor becomes a tale unto itself, and the notion of a modern multi-national business being locked into such agreements seems impossible today.  There is of course an American angle, which is naturally of the Gordon Gekko "greed is good" mentality, but one of the joys of the show is watching the naiive Americans get completely lost in the maze of Hong Kong corporate politics.

Opposing Brosnan is none other than John Rhys-Davies, a rival CEO pledged to destroy Noble House, and I took great joy in this show of Welsh-Irish animosity.  Go Celts!  It is my firm intention to snag this on DVD because it was fun to watch and I'm sure I missed a few things.