TV Reviews Archive

0

Afternoon Anime – Space Battleship Yamato 2199: Episode 8

By
Adam Shaftoe
– May 15, 2013Posted in: Reviews, TV Reviews

The eighth episode of Space Battleship Yamato 2199 plays out as something of a throw away story. Though Wish Upon A Star confirms a few things any intelligent viewer would have speculated about on their own, this window into the culture and hierarchy of Planet Gamillon really doesn’t break any new ground. In short: if you haven’t quite figured out the series’ extended metaphor, then you will certainly get the message by the end of this episode.

Much of the story happens on Gamillon, where its citizens are feting Lord Albet Desler on the occasion of the 103rd year of his reign and the 1000th anniversary of the Great Gamilas Reich Empire. The VIP after party to the public spectacle facilitates introductions to the Gamilas high command, whose names all range on the Germanic spectrum. Once we move past the toadying and scraping before Desler, the throne room’s assembled guests are treated to the “theatre” of a new weapon being used against the Yamato.

Meanwhile our eponymous battleship has warped into a solar storm, engineered by Desler of course. A lone Gamilas ship, which turns out to be the sole survivor of the Yamato’s assault on the Pluto base, is charged with deploying the “Desler Torpedo,” thus redeeming themselves for defeat at the hands of “the barbarian ship.”

Note here that the Pluto base survivors are white-skinned as opposed to blue-skinned Gamilans. Idle racism from Desler’s inner circle confirms that these Gamilans are non-terrestrial humans who have been assimilated into the Gamilas Empire. Their worlds acceded to Gamilas’ Anschluss unification of the Large and Small Magellinic Cloud, and in return were allowed to serve as second class citizens within the greater Gamilas Empire.

Say what you will about the original series’ attempts to re-write Japanese identity, but at least it was more subtle than this. I would wager real money that Iscandar is now some sort of Space Warsaw Ghetto.

The episode’s big reveal comes in the form of the Desler Torpedo releasing a gaseous biological weapon akin to the blob. For those keeping score at home, Gamilas’ WMD count now includes radioactive meteor bombs and biological gas weapons. Is anybody unclear on how they are supposed to read the Gamilans at this point?

With the solar storm precluding another warp or effective sub-light manoeuvring, Captain Okita’s only option to escape the blob is to sail dangerously close to a star. Doing so facilitates yet another opportunity to foreshadow that Captain Okita’s days are numbered. The Captain’s plan, which apparently none of the Gamilans, save for Desler, could imagine, allows the star’s gravity to trap and consume the gas monster. The Yamato then uses the wave motion gun to blast a gap through an unavoidable solar flare (physics FTW) and thus navigate the ship to safety.

Meanwhile the Gamilas ship that fired the torpedo has advanced on the Yamato in a suicidal attempt to salvage their honour. Unfortunately, the gap in the solar flare closes around the second ship, killing the alien crew in the process.

Could the Yamato have come out of that battle any more righteous? Not only did they let the star destroy the biological weapon, but they passively allowed a force of nature, rather than their shock cannons, to melt the lone Gamilas destroyer. A single blast from the Yamato’s conventional weapons can sink a Gamilas ship. But instead of having the rear firing guns to do just that, the writers kept the Yamato’s figurative hands as pure as an Admiral’s inspection gloves.

For all this constant reinforcing of Gamilas as an evil empire, the only exception being one of the second glass Gamilans reading a letter from his daughter, and Earth as a righteous victim of an imperialist agenda, I really hope that the series is setting me up for a bait-and-switch. Otherwise it is going to be a long season of nothing but binaries of black and white. Where’s the grime and grey area of war? It doesn’t need to turn into a “Space Terrorist” story, per my last afternoon anime post. However, continuing as is seems childish in its simplicity.

Stray Thoughts

-   Lt. Niimi approaches Captain Okita with a request to explore a habitable planet discovered between warps. Okita shuts her down, citing the shelving of the “Izumo Plan.” Interesting to know that the Yamato was designed as an ark, but it’s a stretch to imagine this as becoming relevant to the main plot.

-   Okita shows the bridge personnel a telescope image of Earth when they are 8 light years from Sol. The distance allows the crew to see the Earth as a blue planet for the first time since the war began - physics FTW for real this time.

-   True to the original series, Desler is written as charismatic and somewhat aloof when compared to his zealous staff. He is a paradox as the embodiment of civilized behavior while simultaneously abiding genocide and subjugation. Perhaps the writers can find a way to explain why he is this way, rather than chalking it up to a goofy Hitler allegory.


Tags: , ,
0

The Odd Legacy of Star Trek TNG’s The High Ground

By
Adam Shaftoe
– May 6, 2013Posted in: Television, The Daily Shaft, TV Reviews

If Captains’ Logs: The Unauthorized Complete Trek Voyages is to believed then The High Ground is one of TNG’s most internally lamented episodes. For those who don’t recall this third season story, it’s the one where Doctor Crusher gets kidnapped by space terrorists, who then hold her captive in exchange for aid from the Federation in securing their country’s sovereignty from planet Rutia’s world government.

Ron Moore called the episode “an abomination.” Moore goes on to say,

“We didn’t have anything interesting to say about terrorism except that it’s bad and Beverly gets kidnapped – ho hum. They take her down to the caves and we get to have nice, big preachy speeches about terrorism and freedom, fighting and security forces versus society. It’s a very unsatisfying episode and the staff wasn’t really happy with it.”

Michael Piller, credited as The High Ground’s co-executive producer, questioned the overall statement the story made about terrorism.

“Was it the point where the boy puts down the gun and says, ‘Maybe the end of terrorism is when the first child puts down his gun?’ It was effective in the context of that show, but is certainly not a statement that provides any great revelation.”

Given that the IRA crisis was far from resolved when the episode went to air in 1990, it is understandable why The High Ground was seen as a milquetoast affair in the face of a real social issue. The closest the episode comes to making an actual statement on terrorism is during a conversation between Data and Picard. Data cites Mexican independence from Spain as a precedent in support of violent insurgency as a last resort when attempting to bring about political change. Picard’s reaction to Data’s android innocence is to fall back on the series’ stock answer: “Well that’s just human nature and these are big questions for which there is no easy answer.” No wonder the writers were unhappy with the episode. At least when TNG married the prime directive with the war on drugs it came with the benefit of Lt. Yar admitting to the allure of chemical intoxication; albeit Wesley’s subsequent “I’ll never do drugs” comment was positively stomach churning.

 

Nearly a quarter of a century after The High Ground went to air, it’s interesting to note how closely the episode’s themes mirror our own contemporary dialogues on terror. Twenty-three years might have given us real world analogues to Star Trek’s PADDs, tricorders, phasers, and even a theoretical model for a warp drive, but clearly our sociology has lagged behind the science.

In the episode’s first act, Alexana Devos (Kerrie Keane), the head of Rutia’s security condemns the Ansata terrorist organization as a group of animals. She further paints the Ansata as “…fanatics who kill without remorse or conscience.” Please to note the othering of terrorists as sub-humans.

Devos’ attempts to ferret out the Ansata portray Rutia as a near police-state. Suspects with even the slightest ties to the Ansata are rounded up in mass arrests and questioned without formal charge or the benefit of legal counsel. Rutian methods extend so far as to arrest children and teenagers as potential Ansata sympathizers. Though nobody comes out and says it, the episode clearly implies that Rutia is a place where the average citizen is either with the government or the Ansata.

Meanwhile the Ansata view themselves as freedom fighters struggling against an oppressive regime. Kyril Finn (Richard Cox), leader of the Ansata, rationalizes himself to Dr. Crusher as a 24th century George Washington. When Crusher reminds Finn that Washington was a general and not a terrorist, Finn retorts that the difference between terrorists and generals is the difference between history’s winners and losers. This leads to an interesting point wherein Finn asks Doctor Crusher how much violence is buried in the Federation’s past? In terms of canon, quite a lot: The Eugenics Wars, World War 3, the Earth-Romulus war, and a century of cold war with the Klingon Empire. Finn throws the idealized world of the Federation in Doctor Crusher’s face to demonstrate the selective memory governments often utilize in the prosecution of terror while simultaneously ignoring their own “legitimate” uses of force.

When Finn takes Captain Picard hostage after a failed attempt to destroy the Enterprise, Doctor Crusher questions the difference between a mad man and a committed man willing to die for his principles. Picard, however, is utterly dismissive of the Doctor’s question. Having witnessed the Ansata murdering members of his crew, he is not inclined to entertain the broader issues of the Ansata conflict. Picard further marginalizes the Ansata position in his suggestion that Doctor Crusher’s entirely conceptual recognition of the Ansata cause is the product of Stockholm Syndrome.

Later in the episode a joint Starfleet-Rutian strike force assaults the Ansata compound. Picard and Crusher are liberated but Finn is assassinated in the process. Picard’s reaction to the kill is somewhere between indifference and tacit approval. Then, as if to wash the Federation’s hands of the entire situation, the Enterprise leaves Rutian security to deal with the aftermath of Finn’s martyrdom. At no point does anybody in a Starfleet uniform acknowledge the fact that the Federation has played an active part in making an unstable situation worse.

Given the way the word has changed over the last twelve years, it’s hard not to look at Rutia and see a blueprint for our world. Combatants turn each other into monsters to legitimize their respective actions. Disagreement is confused with dissent. Empathy is mistaken for sympathy. The High Ground may not have told the story that Melinda Snodgrass intended in 1990, a story which would have seen the Federation on the wrong side of history, but it does offer a clearly unexpected window into our own world.


Tags: , , , ,
0

TV Review: Doctor Who – Journey to the Centre of the TARDIS

By
Adam Shaftoe
– April 29, 2013Posted in: Reviews, TV Reviews

On a very fundamental level, I am not predisposed to enjoy an episode like Journey to the Centre of the TARDIS. Try as I might, I don’t see the narrative value in story telling that pushes a reset button at the start of the fifth act only to spend its remaining few minutes doing jazz hands in anticipation of laurels. Even if the reset is planned from the first act, as it likely was in this episode, the need to invoke a modified “it was all a dream” trope shows me that the conflict at the core of the story was simply too impossible to manage. But I’m getting ahead of myself. First we have to identify the actual conflict in this episode.

Part of the reason why I think this episode felt so haphazard has to do with the multiple conflicts in play, none of which managed to stand out as the thing which binds the rest together. The episode just moves from one thing to the next, seemingly absent a meaningful endgame.

Journey could have very easily been a “Humans are their own worst enemies” episode. The Venture Van Halen Van Baalen Brothers posses the greed, avarice, and short-sightedness which Doctor Who so often uses to juxtapose the inherent weakness of humanity against the seeming infallibility of the Doctor. The fact that the VB Bros. end up in the TARDIS opens the door to another potential conflict: The Doctor is destructively obsessive.

Consider for a moment that the toxic fumes and insta-death fuel leak within the TARDIS get cleaned up in a matter of seconds. The Doctor didn’t really need the Van Baalen brothers to find Clara. Yet, Eleven threatens to blow them up if they don’t help him. Why does he do this? Does he want to protect Clara, or is he just interested in solving the puzzle of her true nature? Interesting as this question is, it becomes a moot point with the reset button business. The dickish Doctor who all but killed killed two of the Van Baalen brothers becomes a hiccup of timey-wimey story telling.

What about the TARDIS then? We’re meant to believe that the TARDIS doesn’t “like” Clara, albeit through some very clumsy exposition.

 

When the TARDIS failed to let Clara in during the Rings of Akhaten, I didn’t see malevolence; I saw the Doctor not giving Clara a TARDIS key. But suppose we work with the malevolent TARDIS theory for now, except then we’d have to ignore the fact that the artificial labyrinth the TARDIS created within the episode was meant to protect Clara. Even the Doctor says that the out of sync console room is the safest place on the ship, and that’s exactly where the TARDIS led a woman she purportedly dislikes. So much for that conflict. Meanwhile, the TARDIS is snarling at the Van Baalen brothers, crying out to the fake-android-cyborg brother, and Matt Smith is walking around with his, “Oh shit” face on the whole time. So perhaps the conflict is going to be about the TARDIS turned Mr. House on the invading salvage team? Well only for about five minutes because then the XCOM Alien Abduction sound effect (if you’re going to borrow sound effects, don’t borrow from 2012′s Game of the Year) is going to play in place of the standard cloister bell to signal that the TARDIS is going to die.

Great! The now there is a conflict we can all get behind. The last vestige of Gallifrey, a machine that was old when the Doctor stole it 900 years ago, is coming apart at the seams. For an instant I dared to hope that the death of the TARDIS might extend to the 50th anniversary story. If we take Gaiman’s The Doctor’s Wife as canon, then the TARDIS is more than just a time machine; it is the infinite union of time and space. Something going wrong there could certainly hand wave Tennant and Smith together. Moreover, the audience has a huge emotional attachment to the TARDIS and its death could raise the stakes without putting a gun to the head of the universe. But instead of killing the TARDIS, Stephen Thompson – who is also credited with writing the atrocious Curse of the Black Spot – kills the TARDIS to let Smith and Coleman walk through the time frozen shrapnel of its exploded core.

Is it a cool visual effect? Absolutely? But is it great story telling? Not if the only way out is to call a mulligan on everything that happened in the story and cancel out any potential growth in the main characters or meta-story.

While I’ll offer no quarter to this story as a narrative nightmare, it does shine as an interesting archeological dig into Doctor Who’s internal mythos. The episode very much delivers on its promise to be a journey to the centre of the TARDIS. Along the way we see the much talked about swimming pool and a library which oozes, literally, Time Lord history. There are vanishing walls and West Wing style camera shots of people walking around infinite hallways.

The problem with archeology is that it can often be difficult to craft a narrative around a collection of artefacts. Doing so requires external sources, background research, and inferences which allow for some benefit of doubt. It is on that last point, Journey to the Centre of the TARDIS falls to pieces. I’m not inclined to give the benefit of the doubt to an episode which invokes a reset button to solve the story’s problems. Either by accident or design, such a resolution is lazy. Fun as the tidbits of Doctor who history are, up to and including the ghost voice of Chris Eccleston, they don’t end up contributing to the story as anything other than fan service. As a critic I don’t see why I should forge what remains into something cohesive; such is the task of the writer, not the audience.

Bottom line: It’s a pretty episode, it’s a fun episode, it’s even a nice nod to the series’ long running history, but at best it’s a narrative hot mess and at worst it’s self-congratulatory navel gazing.


Tags: , , , ,
0

TV Review: Spartacus – A Brief Retrospective

By
Adam Shaftoe
– April 22, 2013Posted in: Reviews, TV Reviews

It’s a challenge to look back on a series like Spartacus. When it began in 2009, I took it as a juvenile attempt to bring together over-the-top 300-style violence with the baseline hetero-male audience’s collective desire to see Lucy Lawless naked. I had all but written the series off until it showed signs of transforming midway through the first season. Shock and awe-yeahhhh camera work gave way to actual narrative. Sure, it wasn’t HBO’s Rome, but that didn’t make it uninteresting to watch John Hannah curse Jupiter’s cock as he attempted to climb Capua’s social latter. Subtext began to appear within the series’ imagery and long form story-telling found its way into the mix. I offered a public mea culpa before admitting to being hooked on Spartacus. For my last official Spartacus War of the Damned post, I thought I would talk about some parts of the show that have really stood out to me over the last few years.

Target Demographic

In the final episode of War of the Damned, Agron promises a dying Spartacus that his legend will live on throughout history. It’s a touching meta moment in the series, and perhaps the best thing a dying leader can hope to hear. But who actually carried Spartacus’ memory through history?

Until Spartacus entered popular culture in the 1960s, he was relegated to the realm of classists and historians. The legend of Spartacus, as written by the Romans, was not about the triumph of individual agency, but the validation of Roman law and civilization. Much to the fictional Agron’s horror, Spartacus spent the better part of two millennia as a ghost story for aristocrats. He was a warning for what happens when the higher orders push those under them beyond the breaking point.

The last fifty years have seen Spartacus appropriated from the narrative of “haves” and rebranded as a populist figure – historical accuracy be damned. Steven DeKnight’s Spartacus is perhaps even more a folk hero than the character directed by Stanley Kubrick and written by Howard Fast. The post-modern Spartacus began as a soldier within the Roman Auxiliary. He only became a slave when a betrayal from his Roman commanders saw him fighting in an imperial conquest rather than defending his homeland. A subsequent decision to desert led to Spartacus’ capture and colonization into the lowest order of Roman society.

I won’t presume to guess how much this resonates with the working poor of America, but it’s hard not to see the contemporary influence on the Spartacus story. How many disenfranchised Americans want nothing more than a chance to be a part of the system, yet find themselves betrayed and marginalized by those institutions? How many people put themselves into the spectacle of the internet in search of fame, glory, and a lasting memory by entertaining the masses? In this, DeKnight’s Spartacus is quite successful in continuing the democratization of Spartacus, as initiated by Kubrick and Fast. Moreover, the desire for individual recognition among an alienating global community, where the Internet is our arena, further allows the series’ gladiators, the rock stars of Rome, to inhabit a conceptual space common to a broad audience obsessed with getting their fifteen minutes of fame.

Spartacus and Gay Culture

When I was in high school I wrote a review of Spartacus (1960) for a writer’s craft course. When my teacher asked why I didn’t devote more time to discussing Spartacus’ queer-friendly scenes, I answered with a rather flip, “People were cooler about gay stuff before Christianity. The movie didn’t make a big deal out of it, why should I?”

Upon first watching DeKnight’s Spartacus I found myself a little put off with series in terms of its approach to sexual identities as well as the critical discussion surrounding them.

During Spartacus’ first season bonafide television and culture critics, I mean people who get paid to do write about TV for a living, would not shut up about Crixus’ and Spartacus’ apparent unresolved sexual tension. I was unimpressed. Neither character was gay. Characters are allowed to hate each other without wanting to have sex with each other, deal with it. Meanwhile Barca, one of the series openly gay characters, inhabited a character space akin to one of the gang rapists from The Shawshank Redemption. Simultaneously, all the women, once again playing into sophomoric fantasies, were secretly bi-curious. Yet critics could not seem to move past the juvenilia of Spartacus’ and Crixus’ non-existent tension.

Thankfully, the series seemed content to grow up while a great many other people were trying to figure out pitchers and catchers. Vengeance, the series’ second chronological season, saw the creation of a new same-sex relationship. In a series where seemingly every other relationship was forged out of convenience, politics, opportunity, lust, protection, or revenge, Agron and Nassir proved to be the only healthy and mutually supportive paring of the show.

I’m sure a great many people, likely with more legitimacy to speak on gay-advocacy than I possess, have written at length on the importance of Agron and Nassir as an openly gay couple within a very hetero-normative cable TV series. But if I can revisit a modified form of my high school thesis on Spartacus (1960), I think this series has done a great thing in crafting a space where everybody is cool with same-sex couples, even if it has to do a little girl-on-girl pandering along the way.

Spartacus Vengeance’s Fatal Mistake

Point 1 – Losing Andy Whitfield was a tragedy. Not finding a way to keep John Hannah in the series was a mistake. When a long form drama has the chops to maintain multiple leading men (John Hannah, Andy Whitfield, and Manu Bennet) it can’t afford to lose two of them at the same time. Gods of the Arena didn’t even have the decency to make its half-season arc focus on Crixus. Such a decision would have facilitated an introduction to Liam McIntyre couched in a greater attachment to Crixus.

Point 2 – Rather than having Batiatus survive the attack on the Ludus, and subsequently be elevated to desired station, thus giving the series an actual reason to be rooted in Capua, we were introduced to half a dozen new Romans with one-off intrigues. The Upstairs Downstairs element of the show was lost at a time when McIntyre was uncertain as Spartacus and the writers only saw fit to have him speaking in dry speeches. Even if John Hannah was only used for five episodes, it would afforded enough time to allow Galber to become a leading man in his own right.  Meanwhile having Batiatus concentrate a half-dozen new intrigues into one character would have made the story telling infinitely more efficient.

Historical Accuracy

I’ve taken issue with the series’ historical accuracy from time to time. All too often Spartacus seemed to get the minor details right while buggering up some of the bigger ideas. Upon re-reading some Plutarch and Appian I’ve been reminded of one of my earliest lessons in Roman history: The Romans are the biggest liars of them all.

Seriously, history is a hell of a lot easier to write when the goal is not to be accurate to fact, but to create a legacy for your allies while simultaneously vilifying your enemies. Bearing that in mind I’ve put together a point-counterpoint on some of the series ongoing historical “liberties.”

Ancient Romans were a pious and proper people. Nobody had sex like they did on Spartacus.

Right, and Silvio Burlusconi would have made sure his biographer included the part about Bunga Bunga parties if the press hadn’t found out about them.

Spartacus died in 71BC.

Maybe, maybe not. The “I’m Spartacus” moment/sequence in Kubrick’s movie and DeKnight’s series, respectively, reflects the fact that in an ancient army few people can recognize their general. Most people in Spartacus’ army were just following the person in front of them. Only a handful of Captains would have been able to recognize Spartacus or Crixus. Of course, the Romans are not going to be apt to write a history where the man who undermined the Republic escaped to perhaps one day threaten Rome again. Spartacus died as an idea in 71BC, the man bearing his name may have survived.

Roman swords are great for cutting off people’s heads.

False. The gladius is a short sword that would be quite terrible as a tool for beheading. It is best used when partnered with a legionaries’ shield and used as a stabbing weapon.

Final Thoughts, for now

I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t more to say about Spartacus. When three big themes and three smaller ones run nearly 1700 words it probably indicates a need for me to write an actual paper on the subject.

In the end, Spartacus’ legacy will be as a show that began as tawdry titillation and grew into a series which questioned the way we interact with history. It didn’t seek to subvert what we think we know, rather it looked for gaps in the primary sources and choose to live in those spaces, spaces where perceptions of the past are checked by modern historical sensibilities. This is no small feat. Arguably something like Game of Thrones, though similar in format and tone to Spartacus, will never be able to do what Spartacus accomplished. For that reason, as well as countless others, Spartacus will prove to be a pop culture event worthy of much critical discussion and dissection.

Thanks to everybody who kept up with these posts over the last ten weeks; it was a hell of a ride. A special thanks to the Google+ Spartacus Circle for allowing me to promote my work every week. Further thanks to Jennifer Adese who has been a fantastic supporter of these reviews, and this website, since I got it off the ground.

Nos morituri te salutamus


Tags: , , , , , , ,
1

TV Review: Spartacus War of the Damned Episode 10 – Victory

By
Adam Shaftoe
– April 15, 2013Posted in: TV Reviews

Bloodied but not beaten

As the title card flashed the single word “Victory” on screen, I immediately asked myself, “Victory for whom?” Who could possibly call himself a winner in this version of Spartacus’ legend? Could anything other than inevitable Roman glory triumph in the wake of Spartacus’ rebellion? For all the memorable aspects of this episode, and there are many, my take away has to be the way in which the acting, writing, and directing all came together to play with the audience’s almost certain quixotic hopes for historical revision.

NB: I’m going to try to limit my discussion of Victory to the episode itself. Next week I have plans to talk about the broader implications of the season and the series as a whole.

Also, do not read any further if you haven’t seen the episode. Seriously! This goes beyond a spoiler alert and into “you’ll ruin the entire fucking experience if you haven’t seen the series up to this point” territory.

In the broadest possible sense, I think this was the ending that Spartacus fans deserved. Victory walks a very fine line between the competing forces of the series’ sensationalized interpretation of Roman history, the tropes of a modern soap opera, and the demands of literary tragedy. Balancing on this high wire act produced a heretofore unseen sense of tension throughout the episode. Arguably a huge contributor to this edge-of-the-seat phenomenon came from the knowledge that any of the characters we have come to care about over the last four years could have died within the span of fifty-five minutes. In such a state, every line becomes a potential final word, each scene a potential grave yard. And anchoring almost every moment therein was Liam McIntyre.

This is not to suggest that Liam McIntyre hasn’t been on his game all season, but in this episode he inhabited Spartacus as if the character had been his all along. One of the episode’s many heart wrenching scenes saw the freed slaves offering gratitude to Spartacus. There was no clichéd extra suggesting he speaks for the group when he says (insert 3rd act gimmick here). They simply said, “Gratitude, Spartacus.” For McIntyre’s part, he reacted as if the words were a kick to the stomach. It’s the soul of poignancy to see King Spartacus thanked by his people, knowing they may well die despite everything that has passed.

Gratitude: a word uttered by John Hannah, Lucy Lawless, Simon Merrells, Todd Lasance, and every other actor playing a Roman. It is a word used so frequently among the Romans that it carries all the impact of a quick “thanks” offered to a clerk at a burger joint. Yet when “gratitude” passes from the lips of extras and third tier characters to a man whose name isn’t his own, the word finds new meaning.

As I said before, the episode lives at the intersection of powerful writing, acting, directing, and hope.

Shades of Gladiator

On the meeting of Spartacus and Crassus I could likely write a thousand words. For the sake of this review I’ll content myself with a hundred. Nowhere do we better see the literal “War of the Damned” theme come to a head than in this meeting. So much of the scene is carried in subtext and body language, culminating in a handshake between worthy foes. The two men are captives of an idea, and that idea is called Rome. Spartacus’ war was against the nation which sanctioned the rape and murder of his wife and reaps the daily labour of tens of thousands of slaves. Crassus is the living embodiment of that nation. He can no more let Spartacus honourably withdraw from Italy than he can forgive Kore for her betrayal. Both Spartacus and Crassus end the war damned tethered to their fate by the idea of Rome, regardless of if they can find a respect for the other.

And then, the dominos begin to fall. I admit I took no joy in the end of Naevia. Even though I’ve been a critic of how the writers managed her character, she demonstrated enough growth last week to make her death a bitter affair. Gannicus is another character who I detested in Gods of the Arena, if only because I was firmly in the “You’re not Andy” camp at the time. While I wish the writers would have found something more interesting to do than have him shack up with Sybil mid-season, his vision of Oenomaus and the arena amid crucifixion was a moving piece of closure. Similarly, Saxa’s death was a heartbreaking thing to watch. Even with the scant dialogue she received over the last two years, the Conan-esque sensibility Ellen Hollman brought to the role made the character’s death meaningful.

But what of Spartacus?

In the moment the spears hit him the audience is taken back to Crixus’ death. Yet, I won’t deny some peace of mind when it happened, despite the timing which only TV is capable of delivering. With a pilum through his heart, Spartacus would die quickly. The Romans could put him up on a cross, but he would not be Kirk Douglas, crucified along the Via Appia. It would have been a fitting death if it had ended there. Instead, the only functional couple the series has ever seen, who just happen to be a same-sex couple, pull him off the battlefield.

Yet it is not a deus ex machina. What follows is the writers’ last assault on whatever dam the audience uses to maintain composure during moments of tragedy. In Spartacus’ final minutes we witness him finding peace in two distinct ways. The obvious is his impending return to his wife in the afterlife. Beyond that, and left unspoken, is the answer to the series’ ultimate question: what is it all for? Even with Pompey rounding up a number of freed slaves who broke for the Alps, the others who waited for Spartacus secured their lasting freedom by being in the right place at the right time. Thus proving even Jupiter can’t rain piss and shit on everybody all of the time.

The beginning and the end

Laeta, Nassir, Agron, Sybil, the mother and her newborn child, and all the rest who make it to freedom justify Spartacus’ belief in the cause of life. Marked by a red serpent, the series comes full circle with a shot on Spartacus’ grave.

I don’t use the word perfect a lot in my reviews, but considering what the series began as, what it endured, and what it turned into this year, Victory was a perfect ending to an imperfect story. Where Stanley Kubrick gave us a tragedy without end, Steven DeKnight offered us a literary tragedy, where death informs the life that survives in its wake.

Tune in next week when I talk about the series as a whole, historical revision, and what I see as the enduring nature of the Spartacus Legend.


Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , ,
0

TV Review: Spartacus War of the Damned Episode 9 – The Dead and the Dying

By
Adam Shaftoe
– April 8, 2013Posted in: TV Reviews

It’s never good to impose too much upon one’s brain the day after returning from a sci-fi convention. In that spirit, I do so hope my readers will forgive me if I diverge from the usual pattern for these reviews and instead focus a mere two aspects of this episode that I think were perhaps more important, though less grand, than Crixus’ glorious funeral: Naevia earning my respect as a character, and Kore as possibly the bravest character in the series.

*Spoilers Ahead*

I’ve always been quite direct with my thoughts on Naevia as a poorly written character in the aftermath of her removal from the House of Batiatus. Where do you go with a character who revels in base bloodlust and PTSD manifesting as a good ol’ fashioned case of the crazies? Absent Crixus, who was both an enabler and restraint for her issues, I expected Naevia to turn into a berserker. Instead, the writers let her find some wisdom in grief.

Sure, Naevia is willing to participate in Spartacus’ games, slaying the captured Romans to commemorate the honoured dead. On a side note, the funeral pyre scene will likely become one of the series’ most iconic scenes. However, Naevia also confesses her sins to Spartacus before the spectacle begins. She willingly admits that she steered Crixus against Spartacus on a number of occasions. When Spartacus lays the decision to spare Tiberius’ life in exchange for five hundred wounded rebels – captured in what I’ll now call the Battle of Rome – at Naevia’s feet, she embraces the greater good and turns Tiberius over to Spartacus.

At this point in the series I don’t know if these few actions are enough to redeem her character. The writers have spent the last two seasons doing seemingly everything they can to dehumanize Naevia in the eyes of the audience. However, the character has certainly offered enough growth in one episode to make her almost certain death in next week’s finale resonate with some level of tragedy.

For the episode’s big win we must turn our attention to Kore. Bound up in the internal politics of the House of Crassus, Kore has been one of the most abused characters of the season, if not the series as a whole. Tiberius raped her not because he wanted her for himself, as Ashur did Lucretia, but to find a way to hurt his father. She then fled from Crassus but was unwilling to slit his throat as he slept. This episode sees her come full circle, stabbing Tiberius as he was on his way back to Crassus’ camp. And before we can have a chance to revel in Tiberius’ death, Spartacus has to come along and remind Kore that five hundred men will now suffer for her righteous desire to reclaim agency against a boy who reduced her to less than a slave. So much for the audience’s catharsis.

But wait, what is Kore’s first act as a newly empowered character? Before the blood on her hands has had a chance to dry, Kore offers herself as a trade to Crassus in place of his slain son. For the sake of his own political fortunes, Caesar plays along with the ruse, legitimizing Kore’s return to her former master. And in the scene that follows we witness the power of a name.

Upon revealing Kore to Crassus, Crassus says, “Thank you, Gaius.” Crassus doesn’t thank his Tribune or the name of House Caesar, placing family name before the individual; Crassus thanks the man before him. Crassus thanks an equal.

Reunited, Kore steps forward and utters a quiet “Marcus” before Crassus roughly embraces her. Yet his first words to Kore belie any emotion his act might suggest.

“From here on you will address me as Dominus.”

Whatever agency Kore gained in killing Tiberius, whatever justice she crafted for herself, the dead prostitute in the follower’s camp, or even for ass raped Caesar, Kore loses as Crassus reduces her to former station with but a word.

Is there another character in the series who has done so much for so many people at such a great personal cost as Kore? As if to make her choice all the more poignant in its tragedy, Kore’s actions fit perfectly with the theme of the season. Kore took one life then offered her own to save five hundred. But will be there a point to it? Are those returned to the rebel army anything but soon to be corpses and crucified bodies at the hands of Pompey and Crassus? Might not Kore also end up on a cross despite doing the right thing? Once again we see there are none truly righteous in the War of the Damned.

With the emergence of Pompey as another piece on the board, if not a character in his own right, any hopes I may have secretly nurtured for an alternate history ending are as dead as Crixus. Realistically, with the undefeated Gaul dead, is there any other place for Spartacus to end up but upon a cross? Save for perhaps a scant handful of minor characters, next week is likely not going to end well. Regardless of what happens, though, we can at least take some satisfaction in a iconic send off for Crixus and unexpected growth for Naevia. What a shame Kore’s good deed is being appropriately punished.


Tags: , , , ,
0

TV Review: Doctor Who – The Bells of St. John

By
Adam Shaftoe
– April 1, 2013Posted in: TV Reviews

For want of a new episode of Spartacus this week, I thought it only fitting to put together a few words on the return of Doctor Who. As is ever the case with Doctor Who’s revival, I expect The Bells of St. John rung true for as many viewers as they sounded discordant. For me, the episode was a beacon of hope amid a seventh season mired in the heavy handed pathos associated with the departure of Amy Pond (Karen Gillan) and Rory Williams (Arthur Darvill) as the Doctor’s companions.

In broad strokes, I saw The Bells of St. John as a much improved version of the 2006 episode, The Idiot’s Lantern. In the aforementioned Mark Gatiss episode, a one-off alien calling herself “The Wire” – she looks nothing like Omar – uses television to suck the souls of people in 1950s London. “The Wire’s” endgame is to employ cheap televisions and the pending broadcast of Queen Elizabeth’s coronation as a way of eating all of England’s essence. So, television makes zombies out of people, how timely.

The Bells of St. John, written by Steven Moffat, works along similar lines as The Idiot’s Lantern while adding a few more culturally resonant layers to the story. It begins with an almost Torchwood-esque warning from a stranger about something living in the world’s wireless networks. In the pre-credit scene we witness people connecting to wireless networks with seemingly alien identifiers. When a person signs on to one of these mystery networks they become a target for surveillance and a potential consciousness download into a human data cloud. The Doctor stumbles upon this mystery when Clara (Jenna Lousie Coleman) calls the TARDIS’ public call phone, thinking she has reached tech support – hence the Bells of St. John.

Wocka wocka.

Prediction: River Song gave Clara the Doctor’s phone number. Apply handwavium as necessary for effective suspension of disbelief.

Despite the convenience of the Doctor’s reunion with the third iteration of Clara “Oswald for the win” Oswald, this is a reasonably clever episode.

Buried beneath the idea of brain hacking people through wireless networks is a poignant discussion on privacy in the digital age. Though one mis-click puts us in no immediate danger of getting our brains downloaded like so many cheap Cylons, the idea of free wireless networks acting as malicious entry points into a person’s computer is quite conceivable. This potential breach in a seemingly safe digital space becomes a conceptual seed from which the episode’s broad fiction grows. Such an approach gives the mid-season premiere a measure of speculative fiction legitimacy. Yes, there’s a bit of jargon and obligatory sonic screwdriviering, but standing just to the left and right therein is a decent bit of storytelling. Maybe it’s not the best spec-fic in the world, but it’s certainly a demarcation from the science = magic = hand waving = ‘shut up and accept it’ methodology I’ve come to expect from recent Who entries.

Further, I continue to be impressed with Clara as the Doctor’s sidekick. One of my wish-list characteristics for post-Pond companions is a broadening of the “Ubiquitous Earth Girl” template. Classic Doctor Who offers no shortage of extraterrestrials joining the Doctor in his adventures; whereas the revived series has always played it safe in terms of using the companions as contemporary gateways into an alien universe. Even though Clara mk. 3 is of modern London, her past iterations have been a Victorian nanny and an assimilated Dalek. She’s still somewhat an UEG, but I’m willing to let it slide in this case if only because she is more than a dough eyed girl who falls in love with/runs away with the Doctor.

It’s also worth mentioning that Clara is the first companion in recent history that has done anything better than the Doctor on the first try. Even though her hacking skills are the product of a partial upload into the human consciousness cloud, she still manages to outdo the Doctor. It will be interesting to see if this singular talent branches further into the writing.

My concern emerging out of this episode is the reveal of the “client” behind the human aggregation firm as the Great Intelligence. Though I enjoy the call backs to classic Who, I’m somewhat worried about how this portents the broader trajectory of the season. Moffat’s long-game writing has burned us in the past with telegraphed endings and ultimately pointless gimmicks half-resolved through the magic of Deus ex Machina. I’m a little too suspicious to write off witnessing the Great Intelligence in both the Christmas Special and the mid-season premiere as random chance.

Theory: The Great Intelligence has been manipulating Eleven since his regeneration. The cracks in the universe, the Silence, the alternate Doctor of Amy’s Choice, and everything else has been calculated to make the Doctor ask the ultimate question on the Fields of Trenzalore as a means of turning all life in the universe into pure thought, upon which the Great Intelligence will assimilate us into some massive gestalt…or something.

This may not be a bad way to go. Life, the very thing the Doctor holds most precious, could become his ultimate undoing.

My verdict: In a season which has been hit-and-miss, at best, The Bells of St. John is equally satisfying as a piece of short and long-term story telling. The allegory resonates within a culture that is both obsessed with its own digital privacy and concerned, at least on the fringes of tech culture, with the physical implications of wi-fi on the health of humanity. Freed of the Ponds and their perpetual drama/bungling as plot devices, I have hope that Steven Moffat is going to do something extra special with the remainder of this season.


Tags: , , , ,
0

TV Review: Spartacus War of the Damned – Episode 8 Separate Paths

By
Adam Shaftoe
– March 25, 2013Posted in: TV Reviews

Spartacus and Crixus part ways not with a mug to the face, but through the bonds of brotherhood. Crassus, blinded by Kore’s betrayal, must choose between protecting Rome or chasing Spartacus north toward the Alps.

People die and the future is foreshadowed in a powerful episode of War of the Damned.

*Spoiler Alert*

Ave Crixus

What do you say about a character like Crixus? I always had the impression there was more to Crixus than was ever revealed. Who was he before being enslaved to Batiatus? He speaks about the nature of war in this episode like a man experienced in its ways. Too bad we will never find out.

Certainly, the forty-three year old Manu Bennett has been a stabilizing force within the series. I suspect many people kept with the show during Liam McIntyre’s first season because of Crixus’s Gallic charm. Though he was never quite as clever as Spartacus, Crixus’ personal transformation was no less poignant. And in Separate Paths we saw the final step in his evolution: General Crixus and Crixus, the man who would be a father.

“A child born into piss and shit,” says the cynical Gaul as he sits encamped, watching a mother feed her newborn son. Therein we witness a profound sense of loss emerging from Crixus. He knows nothing of a world absent fighting, yet he longs for a quiet life. What follows is some of the best dialogue Crixus has ever uttered in the series, and Naevia almost comes across as likable, almost.

For all the handshakes, reminiscing, and affirmations of brotherhood, I think it quite obvious the writers wanted us to know this was the end for Crixus and Agron (maybe). However, rebranding him as “Crixus the Undefeated” might have added a shade too much hubris to the whole ordeal. I mean, didn’t Crixus sort of lose against Theocales?

On a technical level, I have to object to the means of Crixus’ death. I’ve thrice watched the video after Crassus gives the order to take Crixus’ head, and each time I am convinced that the sword’s path would put it nowhere near cleaving head from neck. I know, I know, it’s tedious to complain about technical details, but this is Crixus we are talking about.

Watching his head fly from neck as reflected in Naevia’s teary eyes is a fun picture-on-picture effect, but the death of a titan should not be marred by any imperfection. Crixus’ death deserved to be flawless, thus allowing viewers get lost in the tragedy of the moment. Instead, I found myself complaining about fight choreography and the series’ habit of using a gladius for slashing rather than stabbing.

Turn Your Head and Cough

Who would have thought Julius Caesar would become the voice of reason within the Roman camp? And who would have thought being the voice of reason would result in yet another rape.

I’ve said this before but it merits repeating; Spartacus never fails to impress me with its treatment of sexual assault. Where the series revels in the heady bacchanal of consenting adults and simultaneously shines an uncomfortable light on the icky nature of class based sexual obligation, it is at its best when illustrating the dehumanizing power of sexual abuse.

First and foremost, Tiberius forcing himself upon Caesar is no more or less horrifying than when he violated Kore. Though I suspect male-on-male rape is certainly more shocking for the audience, at least outside of a prison movie, the writing is smart enough not to make an extra big deal out of the scene. It’s not a gay rape scene, it’s just a rape sequence.

This reality is best seen in the equal ramifications visited upon Kore and Caesar in the wake of Tiberius’ action. Kore bore both emotional scars and a physical fear of contact after being raped. In Caesar’s case, he is left unable to perform as a soldier befitting his station. He bears a physical reminder of the ordeal, which strikes at the core of who Caesar is as a Roman soldier.

This brings us to an interesting crossroads. Will either Caesar or Kore reclaim lost agency by avenging themselves upon Tiberius? If Tiberius dies at the hands of another, he leaves his rape victims to deal with the long-term psychological damage of his actions. Given the series’ penchant for comeuppance, I doubt things will end so easily for Tiberius.

The Bringer of Rain, No More

Given that Spartacus very literally escaped the ridge above Sinuessa upon the backs of his fallen comrades, I can see why he would turn pragmatist and make for the Alps. The realization is written across McIntyre’s face, though the character never says it: the rebels are beaten. The cause of ending slavery in Rome is an impossible one. This episode witnesses the death of General Spartacus and the true birth of King Spartacus, for what is a king’s first obligation if not to protect the people who follow him.

What then are we to make of Spartacus tumble with Laeta? Is it just an excuse to give an otherwise celibate Spartacus a sex scene this season? I’m sure Mira and Sura aren’t waiting to kick his ass in the afterlife for going to bed with a Roman. I guess we’re also supposed to forget that Spartacus put a spear through the back of Laeta’s husband’s head, as well. What sort of ex-wife goes to bed with the guy who killed her husband? Here I thought the house of Atreus was dysfunctional.

After witnessing this scene I have a sneaking suspicion we might get an ending along the lines of Kubrick’s Spartacus.

Team Nagron

While Liam McIntyre and Anna Hutchison may have been a study in forced chemistry and ersatz passion, Dan Feuerriegel and Pana Hema-Taylor nailed it in their farewell. Seriously, the scene was magnificent and heart breaking. Agron’s need to fight reminds us that he is equally a warrior and a man who failed to protect his brother during the initial uprising at Batiatus’ ludus. In sending Nassir with Spartacus, he is doing for his lover what he could not do for his brother. The act is touching, but over the long-term might end up tasting like ash if Crassus or Pompey massacre Spartacus’ remaining troop.

A Study in Futility

Either in the next episode or the one to follow, somebody is going to ask about the point of the rebellion. This question will likely be followed by a high minded speech on freedom. We, as an audience, are going to be left with the same question. Is there a point to fighting a hopeless cause? Can anything ever be changed in the world? The potential for allegory is limitless when put in the context of something like the Occupy movement.

In sending off two of the series’ primary cast, Separate Paths does much to setup this fundamental question. The answer will depend greatly upon who dies in the weeks to come. Will this be a narrative of heroic sacrifice or will it be a cold reminder of the implacable nature of history? No matter how much we may want a happy ending, sometimes everybody dies.


Tags: , , , , , ,
0

TV Review: Spartacus War of the Damned – Episode 7 Mors Indecepta

By
Adam Shaftoe
– March 18, 2013Posted in: TV Reviews

Where Spartacus’ retreat from Sinuessa could have stagnated the plot, Mors Indecepta presents game changers which might just allow Spartacus to defy his destiny.

*Spoilers Ahead*

Episode Overview

With the rebel army trapped between Crassus’ wall and his approaching army, tensions once again flare between Spartacus and Crixus. While Crixus favours a head-on attack against Crassus, Spartacus struggles to find a strategy that will outfox Rome’s tactical genius.

Meanwhile a thousand rebels die from exposure as a bitter storm ravages the cliffs above Sinuessa. Facing death on all fronts, Spartacus uses the frozen bodies of his dead companions to bridge the Roman trench and assault Crassus’ wall, which when pressed reveals itself to be garrisoned with only a small force of legionaries. The rebel army then flees into the wilderness, accompanied by Kore, who has seemingly abandoned Crassus after learning she was to remain in Sinuessa as Tiberius’ head of household staff.

The Big Question

At this point in the series, there’s only one thing I want to know: is War of the Damned going to keep faith with Roman history, or at least history defined by Stanley Kubrick – which might as well be history after 60 years of pop culture ubiquity – or will it do something unique with the Spartacus story?

Theory #1 Pompey Magnus

With Spartacus and the rebels escaping through Crassus’ wall, Pompey and his legions could easily turn this potential win into bitter defeat. Though the series has made mention of Pompey, we’ve yet to actually see him, and there is no record of the Magnus on the series’ IMDB page. Why then do I bring him up? In history, knowledge of Pompey’s arrival in Italy put significant pressure on Crassus to decisively end Spartacus’ rebellion. If the writers are keen to ignore Pompey’s contribution therein, what other elements of the recorded or adapted history might they eschew? Maybe some of the rebels will get out alive? Perhaps the name of Spartacus will die, but not the man we know as Spartacus himself. Remember the name was foisted upon the ex-legionary Thracian after he survived execution in Capua’s arena.

Theory #2: Kore

Of all the things to happen in this episode, Kore’s defection is as fascinating as it is unexpected. It also stands as another big hint that Steven DeKnight might be out to tell his own interpretation of Spartacus, unbound by Kubrick or the infamously prejudicial Roman histories.

Given the physical and emotional wringer Tiberius has visited upon Kore, it’s quite conceivable that she would play Caesar as a means of escaping a life of rape and humiliation with Tiberius. But if that was the case, why not slit Crassus’ throat while he slept? If she knows he won’t save her, what use is he to her? Does she love him that much? Or is something else at work?

Perhaps Kore’s plan is to cement a relationship between Crassus and Caesar as a second Trojan Horse. Once triggered, all Caesar has to do is manipulate the situation to make Tiberius look like an idiot (not a difficult proposition) and return Kore unharmed to Crassus’ side. Kore would then be free of Tiberius once Caesar supplants the boy as Crassus’ right hand.

A twist like this also this has the potential to make up for an entire season of enduring Naveia’s victim-turned-psycho routine. An elegant symmetry emerges when we recall that Spartacus’ reason for fighting, first with the Romans as an Auxiliary and then against them as a rebel, was his wife; the idea of another woman, equally righteous in her cause as Spartacus, catalyzing the downfall of the Bringer of Rain offers a bloody sort of balance to the story’s long arc.

Crixus vs Spartacus Round…who the hell is counting anymore?


If Crixus were a woman, this kind of tension totally would have led to sex.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Gods of the Arena – Crixus and Spartacus hate each other. Mutual distain gives way to begrudging respect, followed by an alliance of convenience.

Vengeance – Crixus is Spartacus’ yes man and best bro for the whole season.

War of the Damned – Best bro status continues until Crixus starts killing civilians. Spartacus and Crixus fight, then make up, and now they are fighting again. Of course, who wouldn’t want to fight if they got a mug broken across their face?

Seriously though, the double alpha dog thing is getting a bit over played. They either need to kiss each other, kill each other, or find a way to disagree without all the machismo BS getting in the story’s way.

For all of the Spartacus v. Crixus tension, it never seems to amount to anything. We all thought it was going somewhere in Blood Brothers but instead the tension petered out and left us right back where the season started. I’m glad to see the writers doing more with Manu Bennett this year than they did in Vengeance – can’t have the fan favourite showing up the new guy who is replacing the dead guy – but this is not the way to give the character more screen time. Now it just seems like he’s the show’s Mr. Worf, whose only function is to put forward ideas which get summarily shot down by King Spartacus.

Nagron in the City

In a perfect world, The Doctor will walk out of the TARDIS and take Nassir and Agron two-thousand fifty years into the future where they can have their own spin-off series. Seriously, I would watch the hell out of that show, and I say this as a white heterosexual male.

I’ll also thank whatever gods you care to name for the writers putting Nassir’s and Agron’s jealousy sub-plot to rest. The conflict between the two characters felt like a forced gimmick designed to increase the stakes of the show. Since neither of the characters died in the immediate aftermath of their tiff, I question the purpose of setting them at odds in the first place. Though if somebody told me they fought just so we could have the
“don’t give me that look” moment, I’d be okay with it.

Yellow Cards

If it’s cold enough to kill people where they kneel, then it’s nothing but tedious titillation to have Sibyl unlace her coverings as a prelude to a roll in the snow with Gannicus. Also, is it still cheating if Saxa already gave a green light to a threesome?

If it’s cold enough to kill a thousand people in one night, then there should be a lot more frostbite among the rebel army. Last I checked they were all wearing sandals. I’ll be disappointed if we don’t see some black feet next week.

Crassus’ Mors Indecepta trick involved a lot of talking about the legion’s “Praetorians.” While this might sound good and Romanesque, it’s a mistake. Republican Praetorians were a small contingent of a legate’s bodyguards. Killing them would not breakdown the leadership of Crassus’ army. Killing all the army’s Centurions, however, would have done some serious damage to the legion’s overall effectiveness.

Overall

My biggest fear going into Mors Indecepta was the series setting itself up for another drawn out finale a la Vengeance. Mea culpa. Now we get to witness the continuation of Spartacus’ game of chess with Crassus. The question must now become, who will be the new piece on the board. Will it be Kore? Will it be Pompey? Or is the Spartacus versus Crassus battle going to play out independent of external factors?


Tags: , , , , , ,
0

TV Review: Spartacus War of the Damned Episode 6 – Spoils of War

By
Adam Shaftoe
– March 11, 2013Posted in: TV Reviews

Spartacus’ forced retreat from Sinuessa allows the episode to focus almost exclusively on Roman intrigue.

*Spoilers Ahead*

Episode Overview

Crassus’ legions occupy the city, leaving Gannicus and Sibyl (Gwendoline Taylor) as the only rebel characters of note in Sinuessa. Their eventual escape, accompanied by a newly branded Laeta, finds the rebel army trapped atop the much talked about ridge. Meanwhile in Sinuessa, Caesar is celebrated as a hero while Crassus makes plans to manipulate the Senate into rewarding him with the entire city as plunder.

A Much Needed Pause

Spartacus has moved at an absolute break-neck pace this season. Spoils of War offers the audience, and likely some of the cast, a bit of a reprieve. After the city’s initial capture, where we finally get to see the Roman army marching in proper formation, much of the episode’s focus is spent on intrigue.

Among these intrigues is the revelation that Caesar himself bought the loyalty of the Silesian pirates. Again, I think this would have done a greater service to the audience if it were shown rather than told after the fact. The only thing we ever saw Caesar doing in Sinuessa was inflaming the anti-Roman faction of the rebel army. The post-game confession feels a bit tacked on to make up for an overall lack of clarity.

Arguably the most important maneuver to emerge out of the episode is Crassus’ plan to take Sinuessa as plunder once Spartacus is defeated. In watching Simon Merrells outline Crassus’ endgame are we seeing hubris in action, or hints of a new Starz produced series about the rise of Julius Caesar?

She but Stands As Slave

Poor Laeta is the Theon Greyjoy of antiquity. Seemingly everything bad that happens this season happens to her, only unlike Theon she doesn’t deserve it. In six episodes, Laeta has watched her husband die at the hands of Spartacus. She has witnessed Crixus butcher her friends for sport. And despite Laeta’s standing as a citizen of the Republic, Crassus sells her to Heraclio whereupon she’s branded like any common house slave.

For all his base pirate logic, Heraclio brings up a big point the series tried, but ultimately failed, to explore in Spartacus Vengenace. The position of a Roman woman was only as secure as that of her nearest male relative. As a widow, Laeta would become the problem of her son or failing that her husband’s closest living male relative. In history, this led to widows used as glue to seal political and commercial arrangements. Though Laeta’s sale reflects upon Crassus’ willingness to break Roman law for the greater glory of Rome, it’s also a poignant reminder of how the line between slave and citizen can be quite arbitrary.

Emperor Tiberius Looks Good by Comparison

Christian Antidromi brings it for all it is worth as young Tiberius Crassus. His interchange with Kore and Marcus Crassus was nothing short of horrifying. Equal credit must go to the writers for their stunningly creepy dialogue, “I laid heavy burden upon Kore.” As he said that line, somewhere, one bro said to another, “Oh yeah he did,” and then offered up a meat headed high-five.

But for all of Tiberius’ Joffrey Lannister style posturing with Kore, it is delightful to see Caesar reminding Tiberius of his true worth. With naked slave girls in arm, Caesar points out that Tiberius is nothing more than an exile boy, who disgraced the legion with poor leadership and cowardice. It’s a fair assessment. While Tiberius was suffering decimation and exile, Caesar was using guile and steel to bring a city to its knees. And after a dressing down from Julius Caesar his, “Say anything to daddy and I’ll rape you again” speech with Kore paints him as little more than weakling bully in the eyes of the audience.

They Each Think Themselves Hero

Spoils of War saw Marcus Crassus saying aloud what we have all known for the last few weeks. Both Crassus and Spartacus think they are the hero of the story. Spartacus is fighting for human dignity at the expense of human life. Crassus is fighting for stability and Roman glory at the expense of human dignity. It will be interesting to see if the endgame of the rebellion leads Crassus to a place where he doubts the righteousness of his cause. We have seen moments of hesitation etched on Liam McIntyre’s face, but so far Merrells’ taciturn demeanor has not offered any trace of Crassus wavering in the face of bloodshed and battle.

Glaring Plot Holes

Though the episode closed the loop on the how and why of the Silesian pirates’ betrayal, a few things are left unanswered. Where did that Roman fleet come from in the previous episode? Naevia identified the ships as Roman, but they don’t make any appearance in this episode. Along the same lines, I guess we’re never going to find out how Crixus went from leading a counter-attack against Crassus to saving Spartacus.

I’m also wondering what, if any, role Pompey is going to play in this slaughter. With Spartacus trapped between Crassus’ wall at the top of the ridge and his legions below, how can Pompey steal the glory? With the breach sealed between Crixus and Spartacus, for now at least, there seems little chance for Crixus to lead his fringe group toward the Alps, only to be crushed under Pompey’s legions.

The End of the Line

With Spartacus penned in and four episodes to go, the series is at something of a critical juncture. From a military point of view, Crassus’ best option is a siege. He should winter his men in Sinuessa and let Spartacus freeze on the ridge. Yet the writer in me would hate Steven DeKnight if he lets the show end through attrition rather than a blaze of glory. Moreover, now that Crassus knows what Spartacus looks like, how is the “I’m Spartacus” moment going to transpire? Will it involve Pompey blustering in at the last moment? Will there even be a Kirk Douglas homage?

The final act is upon us.


Tags: , , , ,
Older Entries