VISERYS TARGARYEN: Who can rule without wealth, or fear, or love?
As we move into the second half of Game of Thrones’ debut season, two of the most central concepts of George R.R. Martin’s saga begin to assert themselves in deeper ways: children and lineage. ‘A Golden Crown’ is an episode filled with the lingering shadows of lost childhood and assumptions, or presumptions, of birthright.
David Benioff & D.B. Weiss present, of course, probably Game of Thrones’ first true watershed, “OMG they just did that!” moment with the horrendous death of Viserys Targaryen, given the titular ‘golden crown’ by Khal Drogo when he finally pushes his luck a little too far with the Dothraki, who take his demands just a touch too literally. Game of Thrones would of course top this many times over – Ned Stark’s shocking execution in ‘Baelor’ at the end of the first season would be the next, and the one the series will forever be immortalised for is the so-called ‘Red Wedding’ in the third season’s penultimate episode ‘The Rains of Castamere’ – both examples of which cement the idea of the penultimate episodes of Game of Thrones always provide the biggest shock events or battles, before a calmer, scene-setting finale. We’re some way from that yet. Right now, Game of Thrones just pulled a flanker in the sixth episode.
What you make of Love, Simon, and undoubtedly what you take from it, could well depend on your identified sexuality. It shouldn’t, but it doesn’t quite feel we’re at the point yet where gender fluidity and honesty about our sexual preferences is not important. Greg Berlanti’s film, in fact, is all about the fact it still matters.
Love, Simon has been intentionally, specifically crafted to evoke movies and decades past. Adapted from the novel ‘Simon vs the Homo Sapiens Agenda’ by Becky Albertalli, Berlanti’s film wears its inspirations on its sleeve – principally John Hughes, maestro of the 1980’s teen angst comedy, who managed to fuse the colour and vibrancy of that decade with the love-lorn sense of existential trauma about what it means to be young and trying to figure out who you are in that world. The 80’s and 90’s seemed perfectly placed for those kinds of pictures, whether The Breakfast Club or St. Elmo’s Fire, even Ferris Bueller’s Day Off (even if that’s built around more of a narrative gambit), through to films such as Empire Records or the early American Pie films. They may differ in style and tone but all share that same common element of DNA: teenagers figuring out where they fit in.
If ever a cinematic franchise in the making deserved the reboot treatment, it was probably Tomb Raider. The adventures of British Lady, Lara Croft, she of pixelated bosom, cut glass accent and frightening wealth, who so entranced video gamers in the late 1990’s, have not to date had the most auspicious history on the big screen.
For half a generation, Lara Croft was epitomised by Angelina Jolie. The bosom came naturally, the accent less so, but she certainly gave it her best shot in two pictures adapting Eidos’ massively successful female replica of the Indiana Jones series – firstly 2001’s slick, hollow Lara Croft: Tomb Raider, in which Jolie-Lara fought Ser Jorah Mormont who went looking for a magical triangle to stop time (or something) and later in 2003’s slick and, yes, hollow Lara Croft Tomb Raider: The Cradle of Life, in which Jolie-Lara again teamed up with (bellow it) GERARD BUTLER! to stop Mance Rayder (in yet another Game of Thrones connection) from unleashing Pandora’s Box. Not figuratively, you understand, but literally. *The* Pandora and her Box.
Suffice to say, despite fairly decent box office, neither of these films did anything to successfully lift the long-held ‘video game to movie’ curse which has swirled around adaptations of computer games to the big screen since their inception in the 1980’s. The rot undoubtedly started with the fetid 1993 take on Super Mario Bros (arguably the biggest game of the 80’s) and has festered ever since through a cornucopia of cinematic versions of beloved games, some of which were tackled by half-decent directors with fairly strong casts. Assassin’s Creed last year, helmed by Justin Kurzel and starring Michael Fassbender (both fresh off a great new take on Macbeth), was considered the Great Video Game Hope but, alas, it was critically panned. Mind you, I think that film is seriously underrated. But that’s another story. Back to Lara and her tombs…
MULDER: I’ve always wondered how this was gonna end.
Originally the eighth episode in the ten hour run of The X-Files’ eleventh and almost certainly last season, ‘Nothing Lasts Forever’ was switched around with last weeks ‘Familiar’ and you can understand the decision. Karen Nielsen’s script has an undulating sense of finality about it, as if Agents Mulder & Scully know the end of their journey is in sight.
We have, of course, been here before, more than once. Season Five cheekily concluded with ‘The End’, ’Requiem’ at the end of Season Seven was mooted as being the final episode to segue into a cinematic franchise for the show, before eventually Season Nine’s ‘The Truth’ brought back an absent David Duchovny and proved to be a hugely divisive (even to this day) mixed bag of a *series* finale. That was back in the age when a series, certainly in American television, concluded without any real chance of reprisal. British TV has long had a tradition of ending a show and then reviving the property years down the line, but American TV didn’t tend to do it until the advent of streaming services and the full embrace of digital TiVo changed the paradigm of how we digested television. The X-Files itself is proof that while nothing lasts forever, where beloved properties are concerned, we should, to borrow another phrase, never say never again.
Nonetheless, Season Eleven does, at this stage, appear to be the final curtain. ‘Nothing Lasts Forever’ therefore, should that be the case, will go down in X-Files history as the last ever standalone episode. I’ve discussed the importance of the standalone story versus the ongoing mythology in previous pieces—indeed in last week’s ‘Familiar’ I touched on the subject—but to fans the difference has more sharply moved into focus with the revival series. Arguably, many felt we simply didn’t have enough episodes where Mulder & Scully investigated strange goings on across the American landscape, and episodes such as ‘Plus One’, ‘Familiar’ and here ‘Nothing Lasts Forever’ have worked hard to remedy that. ‘Familiar’ goes the furthest to position itself akin to a historical episode of the original run of the series, but ‘Nothing Lasts Forever’ stands out as a stranger brew than anything else the entire revival run over both seasons has yet given us.
Amidst the online furore around the release of Annihilation, there’s a worry the film itself could well get lost in the haze, which would be unfortunate. Alex Garland once again, with this adaptation of Jeff VanderMeer’s novel, proves himself a growing allegorical auteur.
Garland first found fame of course as the scribe behind Danny Boyle’s 28 Days Later, a stripped back, British take on the zombie genre popularised originally by George A. Romero. Garland has always been interested in dystopian surroundings, whether in a post-apocalyptic future where a deadly virus has ran amok, a corporation-fuelled, oily near future crime saga (in Dredd, which star Karl Urban just this week claimed Garland ghost-directed), or his previous, much-celebrated picture Ex Machina, which tackled the thorny subject of artificial intelligence and sexuality, helping to make stars of Oscar Isaac, Domnhall Gleeson and Alicia Vikander in the process. These are films using an often disturbing future-lens to reflect anxieties of our time. He’d be very at home in the company of Black Mirror.
When I’m not looking at all kinds of geeky media on this blog, I’m co-running my website Set The Tape, on which I now and then publish content. This is part of a review you can find the rest of in the link below.
For many, the high point of Joseph L. Mankiewicz’s quite legendary Hollywood career is 1950’s All About Eve, a picture which has lingered in cinematic history for its caustic wit, cold glamour and harsh performances. The Barefoot Contessa is, and in some ways isn’t, a lighter affair than Mankiewicz’s previous effort. Filmed in colour rather than black and white, often beautifully shot thanks to the redoubtable talents of great cinematographer Jack Cardiff, The Barefoot Contessa continues to explore Mankiewicz’s obsession with women and fame, the abusive power of privileged white men in the Hollywood system, his own conflicted feelings about it. Though where All About Eve was a spiky satire, The Barefoot Contessa is a Cinderella-fantasy.
The well known fable is mentioned in dialogue several times by Humphrey Bogart’s writer-director and frequent narrator Harry Dawes, underscoring how Mankiewicz saw Ava Gardner’s Spanish-startlet Maria Vargas as the Cinderella-figure and Bogart, essentially, as the Fairy Godfather who, if he was being completely honest, fell in love with a woman he ended up trying to save from a destructive corporate movie-making machine.
In an attempt to try and tackle the onerous job of looking into the Star Trek book universe, thanks to the help of Memory Beta’s chronology section, I am intending to look at the saga in book form from stories which take place earliest in the franchise’s timeline onwards. This hopefully should provide an illuminating and unusual way of examining the extended Star Trek universe.
Part of this story takes place 446 million years ago.
‘The Escape’ is proof that Star Trek: Voyager was prepared to boldly go in no small measure right away when it came to the tie-in novelisations which regularly accompanied the television shows on screen across the 1980’s, 90’s and 00’s. Dean Wesley Smith & Kristine Kathryn Rusch, existing stalwarts of the Star Trek novel scene, throw the crew in the first Voyager tie-in novel right into an ambitious storyline which would make the Department of Temporal Investigations’ heads explode.
Voyager may have been a proxy for The Next Generation in many instances across its seven year shelf life but the approach the series took to time travel was right out of The Original Series playbook. In the 1960’s, it felt as though Captain Kirk and crew were zipping back through time every five minutes for some kind of adventure, and many of the show’s most memorable episodes involve the Enterprise travelling through time as well as space, such as ‘City on the Edge of Forever’.
Despite being made three decades later, with the more advanced narrative sensibilities that came with the 90’s, Voyager often seems defined by the show’s use of time-travel. Captain Janeway’s crew found themselves in different time zones far more than Captain’s Picard, Sisko or Archer in their respective shows, while Discovery to date has only dealt with it via a Groundhog Day-style time-loop episode.