The Merchant of Venice (1972)

This TV production, a BBC Play of the Month, is a pretty complete version of the play, retaining all of the many interwoven sub-plots involving the more minor characters in addition to the famous bargain and court case between Antonio, the titular "merchant of Venice" (as if there's only one of those, mew), and the moneylender Shylock.

Antonio is here played by Charles "it's just a jump to the left" Gray, Shylock by Frank "Witchsmeller Pursuivant" Finlay. Two other characters could lay claim to being the main character of the play, these being the lovers Bassanio (Christopher "Sharaz Jek" Gable) and Portia (Maggie Smith), because this is an oddly structured play where all of these four take it in turns to be at the centre of the drama, as their various plotlines weave in and out of the focus. Antonio, titular or no, is a mostly passive character, who spends much of his time in Shylock's power, and is saved through the efforts of others, not himself. Portia at first appears to be little more than a plot device - a wealthy and beautiful lady to be won like a prize by Bassanio, but then the play turns it around and it is her who saves Antonio's life at the end.

As for Shylock... well, every adaptation of the play has to decide where to set the balance between his being an outright baddy and a sympathetic antagonist. This leans more towards the baddy side than other, more recent versions I have seen, especially in the courtroom scene where Shylock sharpens and brandishes the knife with which he intends to cut the "pound of flesh" from Antonio. Though even then Finlay plays him as being more out for revenge for all the wrongs that his enemies - of whom Antonio is only the focal point - have done him than his being intrinsically evil.

Something that struck me upon this watch is how this play is full of callbacks to other Shakespeare plays. Most obviously, Portia is compared to the other Portia from Julius Caesar:

"Her name is Portia, nothing undervalued

To Cato's daughter, Brutus' Portia"

Other references seem crowbarred in, such as this one to Troilus and Cressida:

"The moon shines bright: in such a night as this,

When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees

And they did make no noise, in such a night

Troilus methinks mounted the Troyan walls

And sigh'd his soul toward the Grecian tents,

Where Cressid lay that night."

And this is immediately followed by lines that refer to part of A Midsummer Night's Dream:

"In such a night

Did Thisbe fearfully o'ertrip the dew

And saw the lion's shadow ere himself

And ran dismay'd away."

There may be others I failed to pick up on, or which may only possibly be deliberately evoking other plays - such as a mention of an unseen character "Falconbridge, the young baron of England," which might be taken to mean Robert Falconbridge (sometimes spelled "Faulconbridge"), a very minor character in The Life and Death of King John.

A bit more effort has gone into making the setting look and feel like Venice than in some other adaptations, which might as well have been Tudor England. While hamstrung by being obviously studio based, even for its exterior scenes, it goes out of its way to feature images of winged lions (symbol of the Republic of Venice), the bridges and landmarks of Venice in the background, and most all in the Duke's costume - recognisably this "Duke" is the Doge of Venice.

In 1981, so less than 10 years later, the BBC did The Merchant of Venice again. This was just as studio-bound as the 1972 play, with less effort in the sets, and was probably most notable for starring John "Bergerac" Nettles as Bassanio and Warren Mitchell as Shylock. I actually think the older version is the superior, with a better ensemble cast, although Warren Mitchell made for the better Shylock.

Julius Caesar (1953)

In this Hollywood film of the play, James Mason stars as Brutus, but this version is most certainly best known for the actor who steals the show from under Mason's nose, because for some reason they went and cast Marlon Fucking Brando as Mark Fucking Antony. To the surprise of nobody, John Gielgud is also in this, playing Cassius. The title role is played by Louis Calhern, though I had to keep reminding myself he wasn't Basil "Crown Court judge Mr Justice Poynter" Dignam because the resemblance is uncanny.

The play is abridged to get it down to two hours, but is a pretty faithful adaptation for that, including retaining the play's unfortunate structural issues whereby after the famous "Friends, Romans, Countrymannys..." speech it makes several skips in time, with battles and other events occurring off-stage between scenes. The film manages to include a battle scene, but it is perfunctory and small-scale compared to later filmed Shakespearean battles, even the battle of Bosworth from the Richard iii made only two years later, never mind the truly ambitious such as Orson Welles's Chimes at Midnight ten years after.

The film therefore loses a lot of momentum in the last half-hour, and its main point of interest is found in the middle, consisting of the murder scene and the funereal speeches that sway the Roman crowds first to Brutus and then to Antony. Here is where Mason and Brando shine, though never quite to the point that you can forget the Hollywood stars and see them only as their characters. Brando's finest moment might actually come just before this bit, in the "Cry 'Havoc,' and let slip the dogs of war" soliloquy (at almost exactly the halfway point in the movie), where he holds the scene alone.

He's no James Purefoy (purr) though, despite having the haircut.

Richard III (1955)

This is the Laurence Olivier version, which is still easily the most famous single version of the play even for those who have never watched any film or TV adaptation of it. I've seen several, from 1960's An Age of Kings where Richard was played by Paul Daneman, through versions with Ian Holm, Ron Cook, Ian McKellen, to the 2016 Benedict Cumberbatch-starring Hollow Crown, and this is still the go to version for references and impersonators* (Red Dwarf's Marooned, the overacting hospital in Monty Python's Flying Circus), not to mention the source of Peter Cook's oh dear Richard the third (plus inspiring much of the portrayal of Bosworth Field) in the first episode of The Black Adder.

At 2 hours and 30 minutes it's as abridged as most versions tend to be when they're intended to stand alone, as opposed to following on from the preceding Henry vi plays, since this allows a number of subplots (such as anything involving Queen Margaret) to be easily dropped. What did surprise me is how much this film rearranged scenes and dialogue - probably the most of any of those I'm familiar with. It doesn't even begin with the fabulous, unforgettable "Now..." speech, instead placing that a few scenes further in.

The abridging and rearranging is done with one thing in mind - the producer, director and star Olivier wants his character to be on screen at all times, always the centre of attention, even more so than Shakespeare had him. You're not for one moment allowed to forget who's in charge here, he overshadows every other actor and character - sometimes literally, since the motif of Richard's distinctive humpbacked silhouette is repeatedly used to fall upon and thus indicate his next victim.

Other actors of note include Stanley "Zulu" Baker as Henry Richmond, the future King Henry vii, who is allowed the merest trace of a Welsh accent, unlike everyone else who all speak in pure RP. Laurence "Fall of Eagles" Naismith is Lord Stanley who, unusually, is the one to kill Richard at the end - normally it is Richmond who does this. Perhaps Olivier thought it better coming from a character we had become familiar with throughout the film rather than one introduced only a couple of scenes earlier? Yes, clearly Olivier knows better than Shakespeare; no megalomania to be seen here. Mew.

A young-looking Douglas "what do you mean he's not Basil Rathbone?" Wilmer appears, as does Claire Bloom, the latter because there was a time when it was obligatory for her to appear in every Shakespeare adaptation made in Britain. The same can be said of John Gielgud who is here playing Clarence (I'm only surprised Mary Morris wasn't in this as well). And finally, it would be remiss of me not to mention Clive "Trenchard" Morton, looking much the same as he did in The Sea Devils even though that was made nearly 20 years later, and a young actor called Patrick Troughton took the small role of Tyrrell, the manny who murders the Princes in the Tower on behalf of their usurping uncle Dickie. I wonder whatever became of him?

Justifiably famous for being a lavish, technicolour production from out of the austere 1950s, but not really, if we're being honest, the best version of Richard iii. You all know by now I'm not normally a cat to praise modern television without cause, but I'd put the (relatively) recent Cumberbatch version above this, and it's not even the one I'd say was the best of the Thirds. I'd rate the 1983 Ron Cook BBC TV version as the one that deserves that crown, though being nearly unabridged and so running at about 4 hours in length you need to be prepared for a marathon not a sprint. Better yet, get a horse.

A horse.

My kingdom for a horse.

Mew.

* Some have even claimed that Paul Darrow was impersonating Olivier when he played Tekker in Timelash, including Darrow himself (on the DVD commentary). Personally I can't see much of a resemblance, because Paul Darrow is far too handsome. Unless it's the hair?

Yes, maybe that's it - it's his hair that's doing the impression. Mew.

The Strange Case of the End of Civilisation as We Know It

This essentially forgotten TV programme is a quite extraordinarily bad one-off ITV comedy from 1977, written by and starring John Cleese. In it, Cleese plays a descendant of Sherlock Holmes, and it co-stars Arthur Lowe and Connie Booth as descendants of Dr Watson and Mrs Hudson respectively. Lowe's portrayal is the archetypal Stupid Watson, putting even Nigel Bruce's origination of the trope to shame in how incompetent and oblivious he is. Also, Watson is partially bionic, because this was made in the 1970s.

It is hard to believe that this was made in the same era as Cleese and Booth were in the middle of making Fawlty Towers, so far apart are they in quality that it would take Michael Palin an entire series to travel between them. The theory that Cleese gradually lost his comedic sensibilities between Fawlty Towers ending and the present day is disproved by the existence of The Strange Case of the End of Civilisation as We Know It, which shows he was just as capable of making missteps back then - and I'm not talking about the Ministry of Silly Walks there, mew!

The issue is that, even when it has a good gag (of which there are a few), just about every single joke in the film is laboured until it ceases to be funny, and is then laboured a bit more for good measure. It is dreadful. Quality guest stars are wasted, with most of them - such as Joss Ackland and Stratford "Belkov" Johns - enthusiastically overacting and chewing on the scenery in a way that would make Darrow proud, but the material just isn't there for them to make it actually any good. Denholm Elliott just about gets out with his dignity intact, but I'm not sure anybody else did.

One thing to praise it for is the lack of typical '70s blackface and yellowface. When representatives of the five continents gather, the Asian delegate is played by Burt Kwouk, and the African delegate by Christopher Asante - the latter of whom I most recently saw in Rumpole and the Golden Thread, one of the best Rumpole episodes. This small step in a progressive direction is then entirely undone by a terrible joke about simultaneous translation, where Kwouk's character hears the most stereotypical faux-Chinese imaginable, and Asante hears the sound of jungle drums!

The plot sees Cleese's Holmes gather together the world's greatest detectives as part of a plan to draw out the descendant of Professor Moriarty. This is a trope that was inexplicably popular around this point in the '70s, with resemblances to the film Murder by Death (1976) and a 1976 episode of The Goodies, Daylight Robbery on the Orient Express. Here, in addition to Poirot (called "Hercules Parrot," mew) we get send ups of contemporary detectives including Columbo, Kojak, and McCloud... No, me neither.

The ending sees Moriarty successfully bring about the end of civilisation as we know it, which fortunately prevented them from making any sequels. Cleese, meanwhile, should never be allowed to criticise anything other comedians have done (especially not Monty Python's Flying Circus season four, the one the others did without him) without having this immediately thrown back in his face. 

Although it's still a better version of Sherlock Holmes than the BBC's Sherlock.

Big Gay Longcat and Expensive Luxury Cat review James Bond: Diamonds Are Forever

Sean Connery obviously loved playing James Bond. Why else would he have come back to the role after leaving it behind forever not once, but twice? They could have named a film after that habit of his, mew.

Having slept all the way through the making of On Her Majesty's Secret Service, and thus given George Lazenby a chance to take his part, as well as having some kiffs with Diana Rigg and some chases with Telly Savalas, Connery was back for the seventh of the expensive luxury James Bond films, 1971's Diamonds Are Forever.

It starts with Bond looking for Blofeld for some unspecified reason. Let's just assume Bond is miffed at Blofeld having killed off Diana Rigg at the end of the last film, even though this is at no point directly specified as being his motivation. It might just as easily be Sean Connery being annoyed that the film he missed out on being in was better than this one.

If Bond wants revenge on the Telly Savalas version of Blofeld then he's too late, because Blofeld is now played by Charles "it's just a jump to the left" Gray, last seen by us playing Henderson in You Only Live Twice. He got killed in that, so that would make this Gray's second life. Bond sneaks in to Blofeld's new lair and has a fight with some henchmannys, then kills Blofeld by pushing him into some bubbling mud that he had installed in his lair for no apparent reason - already we are getting a taste of one of the themes of this film, which is that sometimes things happen with no explanation for them.

SECTRE Number One mews at his latest Blofeld for getting killed already, and we can see he is wearing an expensive luxury collar of diamonds. His eye turns into a diamond by way of a crude special effect (certainly not an expensive luxury effect!) and this expands into the title sequence.

Number One actually takes part in the title sequence, making it even more expensive and luxury than usual. The lyrics to the theme song are scientifically inaccurate, so they are probably a metaphor for something - knowing James Bond films, probably something naughty.

After the titles, M is showing Bond some diamonds. They then meet with Sir Donald, played by Laurence Naismith taking time out from giving missions to Tony Curtis and Roger Moore to give a mission to the original James Bond. Bond's assignment is to find out who has been stealing diamonds, which seems a bit low key compared to some of his recent missions.

Bond sees Miss Moneypenny before he leaves, and asks her

"What can I bring you back from Holland?"

"A diamond? In a ring?"

"Would you shettle for a tulip?"

Bond pretends to be Peter Franks, a diamond smuggler, and he meets Tiffany Case (who is also a diamond smuggler) and immediately pervs at her. Bond gets into a fight with the real Peter Franks - a tense, dramatic fight that takes place in a cramped and decidedly unsafe-looking lift - and kills him. Swapping wallets with Franks, he convinces Tiffany that he has just killed James Bond, whom she has heard of, but not so much that she was able to recognise the real Bond - she must have only seen On Her Majesty's Secret Service, then. Mew.

Bond hides Tiffany's stolen diamonds inside Franks's body (up his bum, lol) and smuggles it to America. He talks to the aeroplane's pilot, who is played by John "General Carrington" Abineri, although he has for some reason been dubbed so that his accent sounds generically foreign. Perhaps they had to dub over him saying "Mr Bond, with these diamonds you are spoiling us!"

In America Bond meets Felix Leiter, who is in disguise as a customs manny - which is why he is being played by a different actor once again. He also meets with some obvious gangsters who take him, and the coffin containing Franks and the diamonds, away to meet Morton Slumber.

Slumber is played by David "Living in Harmony" Bauer in a wig, and this cunning disguise might be the reason why Bond doesn't realise straight away that he's in the presence of a Number Two.

We have seen Mr Wint and Mr Kidd kill off several other diamond smugglers so far, and now they are after Bond, still mistaikenly thinking he is Franks. They knock him out and put him in a coffin, which they set fire to and then leave - these are classy baddys, who know how the game is played.

Bond doesn't like being trapped in a box, and starts to lose his cool - he knows that pretty soon he will be both dead and alive at the same time. Bond gets rescued by another baddy called Shady Tree because the diamonds Bond hid were fake, and Tree wants the real diamonds. Bond starts acting cool again as soon as he is let out.

Wint and Kidd kill Tree next, preventing Bond from getting more information out of him or finding out who he was supposed to give the diamonds to once he got them. After finding the ded Tree, Bond goes to a casino because... he's James Bond, of course he does. He meets "Plenty O'Toole" and takes her back to his hotel suite for some naughtiness, but some henchmannys are waiting for him there. They don't want Plenty so they throw her out of the window into a swimming pool. Bond says

"Exceptionally fine shot."

"I didn't know there was a pool down there."

quips the main henchmanny. The henchmannys then leave, because Tiffany is in Bond's bed for him to get up to naughtiness with instead of Plenty.

Tiffany double-crosses Bond and gets away from Felix's incompetent henchmannys who were following her, but she changes her mind when she sees Plenty O'Toole has been killed by mistaik instead of her. Some confusing editing around this point in the film makes it look as though Plenty O'Toole just liked going around getting thrown in swimming pools, since this is the second one she ended up in in as many scenes.

Tiffany helps Bond follow the diamonds to their ultimate destination, a secret base in the desert. Bond sneaks inside using the classic 'hide in the back of a van' technique.

There he sees that the base has already been infiltrated by Ed Straker of SHADO (formerly of NASA), and he helps Bond get into a restricted area while pretending to be a low-ranking jobsworth. Bond uses the same false identity of "Klaush Hergersheimer of G Shection" to bluff his way into meeting Professor Dr Metz (played by Joseph "Professor Zaroff" Furst, one of the few actors in ze vurld who can give Sean Connery's accent a run for its money), who is in charge here, and sees he is using the diamonds to make a satellite. Unfortunately, because both Bond and Straker are using the same identity, they get caught out. We don't see Straker getting chased by the baddys, since this is a Bond film not an episode of UFO, we just see the consequences for Bond.

In a different part of the secret base, for no apparent reason, some mannys are faking up a moon landing, and Bond steals their moon buggy to escape in. This chase is played for laughs, such as when the astronauts continue to move in slow motion even when going after Bond. The buggy turns out to be much better over the desert terrain than the cars that are chasing him, so Bond gets away.

This chase is barely over when, when Bond and Tiffany get back to the city, the police decide to have a car chase with them through the streets. This is played more seriously, and with no incidental music other than police sirens. It might be technically the better chase scene, but it is less interesting than the one we just had - it goes on just a bit too long, though it does at least end on a decent stunt.

With all the clues pointing at the main baddy being reclusive billionaire Willard Whyte, Bond and Tiffany stay at his hotel so that Bond can go "upshtairsh" to meet him. This involves a lot of Bond climbing around on the outside of the building, a scene that manages to be much more dramatic and tense than the high-speed car chase was.

Inside the penthouse lair, Bond sees Number One and two Blofelds. They have been impersonating Willard Whyte using a voice-changing gadget, and have taken over his business empire. Bond says he doesn't know which Blofeld is the real one so he doesn't know which one to kill, since his gun only has a single shot. He scares Number One and then shoots the Blofeld that the cat jumps to, reasoning that must be the real Blofeld.

"Right idea, Mr Bond."

"But wrong pusshy."

There are really two Number Ones! And just like with Doctor Whos, when they meet up they don't get on, lol! (This is, obviously, the most expensive and luxury bit of the whole film.) Blofeld refuses to tell Bond his plan, or how he is going to use the diamonds to take over the world, and sends Bond away in a lift. Bond understandably thinks it might be a deathtrap, but it only gasses him into having sleeps.

Mr Wint and Mr Kidd pick up the sleeping Bond to put him in a deathtrap. This is the first confirmation we have seen that they are Blofeld's henchmannys, and haven't just wandered in from the wrong film. Bond wakes up in a big pipe along with a mouse. He gets chased by some kind of electricity robot that is also in the pipe - we might ask why, but there is little point to questioning why some things happen in this film; they just do.

When Bond breaks the robot, he gets let out of the pipe by two mannys whose job it is to fix the robot whenever it breaks, which the mannys claim happens "twice a day" - implying Wint and Kidd have been trying to use this deathtrap to kill a couple of secret agents every day, all of whom have foiled it in the same way.

Number One is having some noms (expensive luxury noms, we must presume) when Bond telephones Blofeld and uses a voice-changing gadget of his own, supplied by Q, to pretend to be one of Blofeld's henchmannys. He tricks Blofeld into revealing where he is keeping Willard Whyte prisoner, so Bond can go and rescue him. He has to get past Whyte's two bodyguards "Bambi" and "Thumper" first. They're not quite "lady mudwrestlers" but might be the closest that an actual Bond film came to doing that for real.

Tiffany is at the casino and sees Number One being carried past her, and somehow recognises him. Well, if she knew who James Bond was from watching On Her Majesty's Secret Service, maybe she recognised Number One the same way. She follows the manny carrying the cat, and it turns out to be Blofeld in drag, who captures her.

"Well, well, well, look who the cat dragged in."

Could this film get any more camp? Well, as it happens... no - this is the high point.

Willard Whyte finds out that mannys who think they have been W-wording for him have already launched his satellite. The model shots of the satellite deploying in space are impressively convincing. It doesn't take Bond and Whyte long to W-word out that the satellite is a giant space laser, of the sort that would make Terry Nation proud.

The laser starts pewpewpewing nuclear missiles still in their bases, and submarines in the sea. These are demonstration pews, and Blofeld is holding the world to ransom once again:

"An international auction, with nuclear supremacy going to the highest bidder."

Blofeld has taken over one of Willard Whyte's sea platforms to use as his new secret base, but unfortunately for him it isn't that secret, and Bond finds it easily. To give Blofeld a bit more of a chance, he allows himself to get captured and taken on board.

Blofeld is about to use the space laser to blow up Washington DC, and gets a henchmanny to start a countdown:

"Ten minutes and counting."

Blofeld, just like El Tel, loves a countdown, and this might be the most iconic countdown out of any Bond film, due to the announcer's distinctive deep voice and accent. It would later be parodied in Austin Powers: International Manny of Mystery.

Felix and Whyte lead a helicopter attack on the base for the climax of the film, while Bond and Tiffany make attempts at sabotaging the laser satellite's controls. With things now going wrong for him, Blofeld decides to try and escape in a small submarine, and he doesn't even try to take Number One with him. (There's no sign of Number One in these scenes - presumably after his scary experience in You Only Live Twice he decided to make his own way off the base as soon as the explosions started up.) Bond knocks out the manny in charge of lowering the submarine into the water, and takes over. Instead of lowering Blofeld, he starts swinging him about for the lols.

The countdown manny reaches

"One minute and counting."

and then very soon after he skips straight to

"Ten, nine, eight..."

Bond swings Blofeld's submarine into the satellite's controls and they blow up, and pretty soon the whole base blows up. The day is saved, but after a lot of build up this is actually a somewhat anticlimactic climax, with Bond just sort of suddenly winning through more-or-less at random.

For the final scene Bond and Tiffany are leaving America on a ship. The incidental music lets us know the danger is not completely passed yet, and then we see Mr Wint and Mr Kidd are on board. They try and blow Bond up with a bomb disguised as a cake, "our bombe surprise."

While they had carefully ensured that whenever they tried to kill Bond earlier in the film, he did not get to see them so doesn't know what they look like, he does recognise them by the smell - all henchmannys need a trademark, and Mr Wint is undone from his being a distinctive aftershave. They have a fight that ends with Mr Kidd getting set on fire and Mr Wint gets blowed up by their own bombe bomb.

The film ends with Tiffany asking Bond

"James, how the hell do we get those diamonds down again?"

and he doesn't answer because he has no more of an idea of how to do it than we cats do.

Expensive Luxury Cat's rating: Very Expensive and Luxury

Big Gay Longcat reviews Blakes 7: Games

Games is the eighth episode of the fourth season of Blakes 7. It was written by Bill Lyons, a writer who more usually wrote for soap operas or, if he was feeling adventurous, police dramas. This was his only script for Blakes 7, but it could have been worse - Ben Steed wrote three, after all!

It starts with our heroes watching some explosions on their TV on Scorpio! This week something called "Feldon" is the most valuable substance in the universe, even though it is mainly only used to make canes. Avon has a plan to steal all the Feldon from the Federation. Vila likes this plan, but is worried about how safe Feldon is when it caused the explosions they were watching.

Avon overcomes Vila's doubts when he says it is worth £900,000,000. Even though all he is doing is delivering exposition to the others, Avon is still hamming up every single one of his lines. That's why we love him so much. That and he's being handsome while doing it, purr.

Everyone agrees to go along with Avon's plan, obviously. Then Avon tells them the Feldon has already been stolen from the Federation, so they need to steal it from the thief. He says

"It is protected by a security system which is supposed to be impassable."

to which Vila replies

"They're all supposed to be impassable."

We are introduced to Belkov, played by Stratford "Gnaeus Calpurnius Piso" Johns, an actor who is best known for his standout appearance in a single episode of I Claudius in 1976, but at the time was probably still most famous for having played the police detective Charles Barlow (in Z Cars and several of its spinoff series) from 1962 until 1976.

After so many years in a single role it is hardly surprising that Johns wanted to escape from typecasting, so he made appearances in historical dramas and sci-fi series playing parts very different from Barlow. His turn as Belkov is one of the highlights of this episode. After being in Blakes 7 he would go on to be in Doctor Who's Four to Doomsday as the baddy Monarch, with - it has to be said - less success.

Belkov is playing a game against his computer, Gambit - doubtless named after Mike Gambit (purr) from The New Avengers. No, lol, I'm only pulling your tail - Gambit is probably actually named after the season two episode of the same name. It seems likely that Bill Lyons may have wanted to call this episode Gambit too... until somebody else on the production team pointed out that fans of BBC sci-fi have, historically, not reacted well when two stories in the same series share the same name.

Avon's allies of the week are already trying to steal the Feldon, which for reasons that aren't yet clear involves playing a computer game where the player gets pewpewpewed at by another manny that looks just like them. All three of them get pewed and only one of them, Gerren, manages to get away. Gerren is played by David Neal, probably best known for playing the President of Androzani in Doctor Who's Caves of Androzani - so he got a better deal than Stratford Johns in that, at least. He gets teleported onto Scorpio!

Servalan, who is still pretending to be Commissioner Sleer, visits Belkov to arrest him. She says

"This isn't a game Belkov. We want those crystals and we want them now."

Belkov replies that "it is a game" - it is already clear that he sees everything as a game, or at the very least something that can be turned into a game - hence the episode title.

In this picture of Avon and Gerren, Avon is indicating which one of them will survive to the end of the episode. Gerren describes the games protecting the Feldon as "booby traps."

Belkov space telephones Scorpio! to request them to rescue him from Servalan. He offers to pay them "half the Feldon crystals" if they do, but it is obviously a trap.

Vila, Tarrant and Dayna teleport to the planet with Gerren. The dialogue in this episode is full of references to sports and games. Belkov started it, but soon everyone is at it (and not in a way that would have improved this episode tremendously, mew). First Tarrant says

"Sorry, disqualified on a technicality."

after Dayna pews a Federation manny who was already ded, then back on Scorio! Avon says

"I don't mind playing games, but I do object when the opposition makes up the rules and decides to be the referee as well."

A scene in which Vila, Tarrant and Gerren get captured by some Federation mannys and then immediately afterwards get rescued by Dayna is purest padding.

Servalan and her mannys are searching for the missing Feldon crystals. Belkov offers to tell Servalan where she can find

"Avon... Vila... Tarrant... I understand the Federation would like them out of circulation."

He has done his homew-word, hasn't he? Belkov knows very well that Servalan doesn't care about Dayna or Soolin.

Vila, Tarrant, Dayna and Gerren break into Belkov's base. This scene includes a classic example of Federation helmets doing nothing to protect their soldiers, when Tarrant hits one right on the helmet (mew!) and still knocks him out.

Tarrant makes Vila stay outside while the rest of them go into the base to get captured. Considering how useless Vila is with guns, and that Dayna is right there, it is obvious that Vila was only left behind so that Tarrant could have a threesome with Dayna and Gerren because the plot required it.

Avon hasn't had much to do so far in this episode, and he is still on Scorpio! with Soolin and Orac, but what he does do he does in the hammiest way imaginable - in this respect it is the quality of his screentime that matters, not quantity. Although, when it comes to Avon, both would always be better.

Orac gives Avon some exposition about how advanced Belkov's computer Gambit is, which makes it difficult for even Orac to hack into for information about Belkov's security. The dialogue emphasises how much Belkov has upgraded Gambit, and Avon describes Gambit as

"It is his bodyguard, his companion, his playmate... his friend, Orac."

If Avon is implying that Gambit is Belkov's friend just like Orac is his friend, Orac has other ideas:

"That implies an emotional tie, which is no part of a computer's function."

Oh well, Avon will have to make do with Tarrant. And Blake. And every cat in the galaxy, of course. Purr.

Occasionally there are guest actors in Blakes 7 who try to take on Paul Darrow at his own game. Colin Baker in City at the Edge of the World may be the most obvious example of an actor daring to think they could out-ham the master. Stratford Johns doesn't make that mistake - the hammier Darrow gets, the more he goes the other way. When Belkov meets Tarrant and Dayna (oh, and Gerren's still here too) he downplays a little throat-cutting gesture and noise when explaining what will happen if they kill him:

"Gambit is programmed to raise the alarm. Wouldn't help me, I know, but it would ensure that you were captured and - erk - executed."

Vila sees a lot of explosions, caused by Belkov blowing up the Feldon mines for the lols. Avon sends Vila into Belkov's base to steal one of Gambit's circuits that they need for their plan.

Belkov sends Servalan and her mannys into a trap where they get into a fight with the planet's natives - that's the old sci-fi cliché of a primitive but dangerous people who don't like intruders in their sacred places. Belkov then lures Tarrant and Dayna (and Gerren) into a trap underneath his escape ship - stealing ideas from Moonraker, now that's a touch of class.

Vila meets Gambit and he starts talking to it and makes a couple of moves in the game that Gambit had been playing with Belkov, but then he has to hide when Belkov comes in. Belkov is preparing to leave and orders Gambit to "self-destruct" once all his other orders and plans have been carried out. Even though Vila is hiding right there, Gambit doesn't give him away to Belkov.

After Belkov has gone, Vila talks to Gambit some more and tries to persuade it to not self-destruct. It opens the door to release Tarrant and Dayna (and Gerren) and even gives Vila the circuit he wants. Although it took some out-of-character actions for Vila to end up in this situation, he was the perfect character to choose, and the only one of our heroes who could have won Gambit over in this way. These scenes alone make this the best episode for Vila, as a character (as distinct from being the best episode with Vila in it, which this decidedly isn't), since City at the Edge of the World back in season three.

While escaping, Tarrant and Dayna (and Gerren) get into a shootout with some Federation mannys. While the regular characters get teleported to safety on Scorpio! Gerren gets pewed and captured by Servalan. That's the last we'll see of him - you didn't need to be Orac to predict that Gerren wouldn't make it safely to the end credits.

Avon, Tarrant, Vila, Orac and Soolin go to Belkov's "orbiter" where the stolen crystals are, but they have to get past the "booby traps" first (rather than, say, teleporting straight to where the crystals are, because that just wouldn't be playing the game). The game that defeated Gerren and his friends at the start of the episode is beaten by Soolin, because she is good at shooting. The next game is a "flight simulator" which gets beaten by Tarrant because he is a pilot. You can see where the episode is going with this - there is one game to match each of our heroes' special skills. (Except for Dayna, since Belkov neglected to make a game about getting captured offscreen between scenes.)

Vila uses his thief skill to open the next door, then it is Avon's turn. Avon realises that the only winning move in this final game is not to play it, since it is designed to be unwinnable:

"There aren't any damned crystals. There never were any damned crystals. They're like everything else on this ship: a game. That's why the last one has to be impassable. We have got to get out of here!"

Belkov contacts Gambit from his escape ship and asks for it to paw over control of the ship to him, but Gambit refuses since it has been ordered to self-destruct afterwards. Realising that he's going to die either way, Belkov asks Gambit to draw power into the Feldon crystals from a black hole, to blow as much up as possible. Gambit agrees, and Belkov starts to laugh. 

He has liked the occasional low-key maniacal laugh throughout the episode, but hasn't gone the full Mordred until now.

Scorpio! pewpewpews the orbiter to allow our heroes to escape. Vila reveals that he took Belkov's necklace of crystals from the base, so at least they have some of the Feldon they came for.

"I'd say the last game was mine, wouldn't you?"

he says. Sadly for Vila (and in a reversal of the otherwise similar ending to City at the Edge of the World) they turn out to be fakes, so Avon gets the last line of the episode:

"End game to Belkov."

Games is the most average episode of season 4, being neither great like Headhunter, Sand or Orbit, nor awful like Power, Animals or Assassin. It has two points of interest that help it to stand out from other episodes, these being a rare increased role for Vila, and the noteworthy performance from guest actor Stratford Johns.

Sadly, many of the other aspects to this story have been done better elsewhere - we could look at Headhunter to see a better rival computer to Orac, or Gold to see a better heist episode. Even when Vila gets the chance to be centre stage and to put his thieving skills to use, this is still not done so well as had already been seen in City at the Edge of the World.

Still, at least the production doesn't stand out for all of the wrong reasons - better to be a Games than a Power any day. So I think we'll call this one a draw.

And now for something completely the same...

And Now for Something Completely Different (1971)

The first Monty Python film was made inbetween the second and third seasons of the Monty Python's Flying Circus TV series. It is essentially a compilation of sketches from the first two seasons, with only a tiny quantity of new material (which makes the chosen title somewhat ironic). Because of this it can get overlooked in the history of Monty Python, and is considered much less of a creative effort than their later films where the reverse was true.

But while the sketches were not written for the film, they were all remade from scratch, with no footage from the TV series reused. This would hardly have been possible even had it been desirable, since the film is in a different aspect ratio from the series. This allowed the Monty Python team to make some script changes, and many visual changes, which means there is some interest to be found in comparing these second versions of the sketches to their originals.

And Now for Something Completely Different starts with "How not to be seen" from towards the end of the second season of the TV show. This very closely follows the original at first, then becomes increasingly abbreviated after the three bushes are blown up, and it ends with the narrator laughing maniacally. He is then revealed to be John Cleese as his announcer character, sat at a desk, who says

"And now for something completely different..."

(clang!) which leads straight into the animated titles. This means there is no It's Manny, a curious omission of one of Monty Python's most familiar and iconic characters.

The title sequence (which, as you might expect, is completely different from any version of the TV show's titles, though done in Terry Gilliam's familiar style) is immediately followed by a caption reading "The End."

 

The "Dirty Hungarian phrasebook" sketch is the first filmed sketch where the original was made on videotape in the studio, so the difference is so much more apparent. The courtroom scene is cut down significantly, but is then followed by a new bit (i.e. that wasn't in the TV version of the sketch) where a city gent (Graham Chapman) understands the Hungarian tourist (Terry Jones) perfectly well despite his using the nonsensical phrasebook.

The Marriage Guidance Counsellor sketch - originally seen all the way back in the second episode of season one - looks very different on film, despite using a very similar script. There's an incongruous photo of the then-prime minister Edward Heath in the background of the office. The ending is improved upon, where it is Cleese as the Voice of God that speaks to Arthur Pewtey instead of a random American gentlemanny, and then the 16 ton weight dropping on him I've always found much funnier than just being slapped by the knight with the chicken.

The Gilliam animations that are interspersed between the live action sketches have all been redone for the film but generally stick pretty closely to the originals, save in the new ways in which they follow each other and link together. This helps differentiate them from the TV series versions, more so than just them looking slightly different.

"Nudge, Nudge" is one where the script seems to me to be identical, so it hasn't improved any. It links in to the self defence against fresh fruit sketch, which is also very close to the TV version but only goes up to the point where Cleese, as the instructor, shoots Chapman and eats the banana. Being on film does seem to improve this sketch, perhaps because of all the close-ups of Cleese's mad face. It then cuts to Chapman as the Colonel complaining about the tendency for "this film to become silly."

The film's Hells Grannies contains all the essential elements of the sketch, but has been much more tightly edited.

The animation of The Spot retains the word "cancer" which was so obviously redubbed in the TV series. Ironically this makes it less funny, even if it is truer to the creator's vision.

The mountaineering sketch is here almost in full (although it wisely skips the split-screen punchline that was so poorly done in the original), and is a clearly superior version.

Conrad Poohs and his Dancing Teeth are followed by Eric Idle's sleazy "Peephole Club" compère introducing the musical mice sketch. Idle is clearly dubbing over himself when he calls back to Conrad Poohs, which makes me wonder if this was a late change from this linking bit having previously been supposed to follow a different sketch? The enraged audience pursuit of Jones as the mouse organist is used as a linking device for several sketches, as they chase him across the opening or closing of an otherwise unrelated scene.

In the funniest joke in the world sketch, Michael Palin as "Ernest Scribbler" clearly writes something on the paper when he composes the killer joke. I wonder if it would be possible to get a high enough resolution on that scene to be able to read what he's written? Mind you, it might not be a good idea to do so, mew. This is another sketch where only the essentials have been kept, tightening it up.

The Killer Cars animation adheres closely to the TV animation at first, but after the giant (and long) cat eats the building it gets an entirely new ending, with a narrator describing scenes that "could never in your life been seen in a low budget film like this."

The Parrot Sketch has a much more realistic looking parrot, although the TV version set a very low bar for it to clear. Apart from the look of the thing, the script used sticks closely to the original right up until the point where it suddenly transitions into the lumberjack song. I used to think this was done pretty seamlessly, considering they were originally from entirely separate episodes of the TV show, but now I can see that it's just a sharp turn from one script into another as the Parrot Sketch gets abandoned within the space of two or three lines. I do still like Cleese shouting

"What about my bloody parrot?"

from offscreen as Palin does the preamble to the song. The song itself looks much better on film, rather than the cheap backdrop of the studio original, but I note the final lyric has been changed from

"I wish I'd been a girlie,

Just like my dear mama."

to 

"I wish I'd been a girlie,

Just like my dear papa."

(and it's definitely this, because since Palin sings it twice it's easy to check) which seems to me to be a pointless change that doesn't make it any funnier. At least when the German version changed it to "uncle Walter" this was necessitated by the need for it to rhyme in that language.

The restaurant sketch with the dirty fork is another one, like with the self defence sketch earlier, which is enhanced by being on film with close ups of Cleese et al, although the background extras are perhaps doing a bit too good of a job in ignoring the action taking place only a table away from them - particularly once Mungo gets violent.

The robbery of the lingerie shop is an odd inclusion for this film since it is such a weak sketch to begin with, although John Cleese does at least appear to have learned his lines this time, unlike in the TV show where he seemed to be having some difficulty. This is followed by another of the weaker sketches - the office-based one where people keep falling past the window - so maybe this is just a section towards the end of the film where they decided to bung all of the weakest material?

The Vocational Guidance Counsellor sketch is improved from having the script tightened up a little, as well as by way of the short piece of stock footage of the lion that cuts sharply to Palin's scream of terror.

The biggest improvement between TV and film versions comes in Blackmail, which is an all-round more polished production both in the studio and location-filmed pieces. On the other paw we have the "Batley Townswomen's Guild's re-enactment of 'The Battle of Pearl Harbor'" which is just as unfunny as it was the first time.

"The Upper-Class Twit of the Year" seems to me like an odd choice for a final sketch - it's not that it's bad, just that there are plenty of better sketches that I would have thought more deserving of being the grand finale. Perhaps this was chosen because it has significant roles for all five of the main acting Pythons, plus a couple of opportunities for Gilliam to cameo?

The end credits are done in an imaginative style that combines them with some classic Gilliam animations, which keeps things interesting to the very The End.

The real The End this time.

While many of the classic Monty Python's Flying Circus sketches are represented here (and I suspect a number of them may be better recognised from here than from the TV originals), there are enough of the lesser sketches also present that the omission of some of the team's best material becomes glaring. The two I miss the most are the Ministry of Silly Walks and the Spanish Inquisition, which I would certainly have expected to make the cut.

The exclusion of the latter of these might be explained when we consider the lack of any multi-part sketches in the film - even sketches which had multiple parts in the TV show (Parrot Sketch; Dirty Hungarian Phrasebook) have only one part included here. While there's not exactly no continuity between sketches at all (the fleeing mouse organist linking a pawful of sketches is about as much as it gets), it does end up feeling less ambitious than an average episode of the second season.

Combine that with the lack of any visual effects worth speaking of - certainly nothing like the experimental combinations of live action actors with animation seen in the TV series - and the line "could never in your life been seen in a low budget film like this" begins to take on the ring of truth. Even the missing second Sir George Head at the ending of the mountaineering sketch takes on a new perspective when thought of in this way - missed out not to improve the punchline, but to save on the expense of the split-screen effect.

That this film was made as something of a low-budget cash-grab by the producers has been documented in a number of behind-the-scenes accounts - see The Pythons Autobiography by the Pythons, for instance, or Chapman's A Liar's Autobiography volume vi. Their expecting this to "break America" was wildly optimistic, to say the least. And Now for Something Completely Different is destined always to live in the shadow of both the Flying Circus TV series and the other Monty Python films with good reason - it being really neither one thing nor the other.