Spartacus War of the Damned: Separate Paths

The end is in sight for Spartacus and his merry band, as the herd starts to get thinned a little in the run-up to the finale...

As we open, Spartacus et al are ambushed by Romans in slow-motion but no one with a name gets killed. A little torture suggests that Crassus and his army are four days behind them. Three days later (by remarkably reliable dead-body-smell-o-meter), Crassus, Caesar and Tiberius are in hot pursuit when they’re interrupted by the return of that dour Roman soldier dude from earlier in the season (Metellus). Metellus snarks Crassus about Maid Marian’s defection, so Crassus beats his face to a pulp because we haven’t had enough face-smashing lately – only Caesar manages to stop him from killing the man. Caesar looks pretty freaked out by this little display of temper, but on they go after Spartacus.

Number One points out they’re nearly out of food and Crixus wants to stop and fight the Romans, but Spartacus is convinced that the man who fights and runs away lives to fight another day. Number One’s mood is not improved by the fact he’s still sulking about The Artist’s friendship with the pirate, and the pirate confesses that he is, in fact, after The Artist (I feel like I’ve seen this storyline on Friends). The pirate is happily confident that The Artist likes him too, which I think may be supposed to be sweet and romantic, but actually comes across as a bit creepy.

Boudicca thanks Number One for helping her put up a tent and he says he’s only doing so because Spartacus fancies her and he wants Spartacus to be happy. (So… he’s helping her put up a tent so Spartacus can have sex in it? How sweet. Or creepy…) They’re interrupted by Maid Marian, who’s come to ask for help for a woman in labour, who promptly gives birth to a TV baby. (TV babies come out with their heads all head-shaped and human-coloured, unlike real babies, who have a tendency to come out with their heads alarmingly squashed-looking and grey, not unlike E.T. To be fair, the cost of the special effects required to depict that accurately wouldn’t be worth it – better to save the money for more face-smashing).

It turns out Maid Marian was basically Crassus’ household midwife, and although she tries to claim that her master was some random called Pompo, she has obviously forgotten that she’s got a slave brand labeling her as Crassus’, clearly visible on her arm. Of course, no one’s impressed to realise she was Crassus’ slave and they suspect her immediately. Boudicca sticks up for her and Maid Marian explains why she’s run away, which does gain her Spartacus’ sympathy, so he tells Boudicca to keep an eye on her and lets her go.

Caesar tries to talk to Tiberius about Crassus’ newfound temper and inability to recognise the value of a proportional response, and also lets the little brat know that he’s onto him. Tiberius scowls petulantly. Over in Spartacus’ camp, Crixus and Naevia share a romantic moment and Crixus talks about how he wishes they had a home, baby etc. They’re both doomed. Doomed!

Crixus, not keen on the running-away strategy, wants to attack Rome itself. Spartacus, being a sane person, wants to head north to cross the Alps, and disperse their group when they get to the other side. Crixus is horrified at the thought of turning and running away, but Spartacus is convinced they can’t fight any more, especially given the increasingly high proportion of women and small children in their gang.

Crixus taunts Spartacus about ‘the man he once was when Batiatus fell’ and Spartacus sends everyone else out of the room so he and Crixus can fight it out. Crixus is confident in their success, but Spartacus has a feeling the Romans are getting pretty fed up of them and are about to hit them with the mother of all reprisals. Crixus wants to keep fighting, believing they’ll never be truly free otherwise, because they’ve shown the Republic up too much to be allowed to escape no matter how far they run. Chances are, they’re both right.

Crixus tells Spartacus, ‘With or without you I will march on Rome’ and Spartacus says he won’t stand in his way. So they settle it – Crixus is off at the break of dawn with anyone who wants to follow him. Spartacus asks one final thing of him first, and all our named heroes and heroines go to attack a bunch of defenseless middle class Roman farms together in one final heavy-metal-backed slow-motion rampage. Aw, how sweet.

Our guys have a feast for ‘the undefeated gods’ (really, they’re just asking for trouble with all this ‘gods’ stuff) involving people having sex in the middle of the floor while everyone drinks, shouts and sings ‘My cock rages on’ around them (that’s a great drinking song, I wonder if HBO could get the rights to use it on Game of Thrones – it would fit in perfectly). Gannicus is drinking and making out with Eponine, which doesn’t impress Helga, though she remains confident that he’ll come back to her eventually and shows him what he’s missing by snogging another woman while everyone has an orgy in the bath.

Number One is still sulking (would some Roman please put him out of his misery). The Artist tries to cheer him up, but he’s refusing to drink because he wants to be sober when Crixus leaves, because he’s going with him. Turns out he agrees with Crixus and doesn’t want to go be a shepherd beyond the Alps. The Artist quite happily says ‘fine, we’re going with Crixus,’ but Number One tells him to stay with Spartacus because he’s been watching too many superhero movies and thinks The Artist isn’t a good enough soldier (or knows it’s a suicide mission) – he wants him to live, so he dumps him to save him.

Spartacus comes to have a last drink with Crixus and they share some genuinely adorable banter about how useless they both are sometimes. Crixus summarises their greatest hits and concludes that their constant bickering was what led them to glory. Spartacus prays they’ll see each other again before they die, but they both know that’s not going to happen.

Over in Roman-land, Crassus has managed to damage his own hand beating up Metellus. Tiberius tries to bring up the subject of Maid Marian, which doesn’t improve his mood, but he does ask Tiberius why he thinks she ran away. Tiberius blames Caesar for giving her the opportunity and tries to needle his father into mis-trusting Julius. To be fair, that’s probably not-totally-stupid advice in general, albeit wrong in this instance.

Number One hands in his notice to Spartacus, who thanks him for not making a giant fuss about their disagreements like Crixus did. Number One wishes him ‘comfort,’ i.e. advises him to get laid, so Spartacus goes to find Boudicca. His idea of flirting is apparently to argue about the treatment of slaves but it seems to work. Spartacus tells her he can never love her because she’s Roman and she says that’s fine, she just wants his body. Somehow they manage to find an unoccupied room to get down and dirty in.

Dawn comes and it’s Gannicus’ turn to say cheerio to Crixus. Crixus tries to get him to come with, but Gannicus has apparently decided to settle down with Eponine so he refuses. Spartacus and Crixus say one last goodbye and Crixus says he will always consider Spartacus a brother, and Spartacus says it’s mutual, and it’s all very gooey and at least one of our heroes is going to have to meet their maker by the end of this episode.  Number One and The Artist make gooey eyes at each other one last time, and the two groups go off in their different directions.

Crassus works out that the women and children are off north with Spartacus while his ‘pet Gaul’ is marching on Rome. He, Caesar and Tiberius argue over whether to stop Crixus from sacking Rome or continue to chase Spartacus. Tiberius makes this about him and Caesar, as always, while Caesar is really just interested in not letting the capital city get sacked. Caesar has found out about Tiberius raping Maid Marian (by making friends with a camp follower) but says he doesn’t want Crassus to find out in case it drives him over the edge. Tiberius’ response to this discussion, demonstrating once and for all that he’s had some kind of intelligence-bypass, is to have Caesar seized by his guards and rape him, because that worked out so very well last time.

Time for a montage! (Who else has Team America in their head now?!)

Crixus is fighting his way across the countryside in an orgy of bad CGI flames, artistic blood spatters, pounding soundtrack (which is starting to sound quite classically ancient-world-movie-like) and having a lot of sex in between fights. He successfully leads his army close to Rome, where they have to defeat one last legion, led by Arrius. Crixus gives a stirring speech inspired by the late, lamented DSG and there are some pretty impressive CGI armies involved. Battle ensues. Meanwhile, Spartacus is leading his gang (which still includes Helga as well as Gannicus) through a rather beautiful and peaceful-looking forest, but frets about their inability to defend themselves without Crixus and the others.

Back at the battle, Crixus stabs Arrius in the face (obviously) and Naevia calls him a god and they look across at a blurry CGI city that is supposedly Rome (across what looks like a desert – I’m not sure the makers have ever been to Rome). But no – Caesar or reason won out in the end and he, Crassus, Tiberius and all their armies have come to protect the city. And so they go into battle again (in what looks like a slightly greyer version of the Grand Canyon – seriously, Italy looks nothing like that. They could at least have made the grass look green). Despite Crassus and Caesar both ending up on foot, it’s not looking good for our heroes.

Number One is the first main character to get knocked down, knocked out by a Roman on a horse just after one of Crixus’ favourite extras gets a sword through the neck. Because he is a major character, Number One gets the honour of going down in slow motion with a sad cello/double bass on the soundtrack. Crixus himself is attacked by several Romans at once and ends up in combat with Caesar, who is unexpectedly saved by Tiberius, who runs Crixus through with a spear (apparently he’s not finished with Caesar – which doesn’t bear thinking about).

Naevia is captured and a sword held to her throat, and Tiberius takes his sword back from Crixus (who had it?! must have missed that). Crixus isn’t quite dead and Tiberius wants to crucify him, but Crassus tells them to chop his head off to send Spartacus a message. Crixus and Naevia look at each other dramatically while the violins go all out on the soundtrack, and Tiberius chops off Crixus’ head – which we don’t actually see, we just see a close-up on Naevia crying. Apparently the highest honour a character on Spartacus can be paid is that we don’t see their horrible death. End of episode.

This whole episode is about the split between Spartacus and Crixus and the lead-up to Crixus’ death, and it’s done very well. Because all our evidence comes from the Romans, historians are very unsure about exactly what Spartacus was trying to do and where he was trying to go as he wandered all over Italy – and the only two sources disagree on some of the details anyway. Neither account (Appian, Civil Wars, 1.14.116-121 and Plutarch, Crassus, 8-12) quite matches the way things play out here, but the main gist is there – an attempt to cross the Alps, and the possibility that at the end, Spartacus or someone involved in his rebellion was planning to march on Rome.

Image from vroma.org

Moving the split between Spartacus and Crixus to these final episodes and framing it as a conflict between Crixus wanting to march on Rome and Spartacus wanting to flee over the Alps makes sense. Aside from keeping Crixus around longer than he might otherwise have been, it sets up a clear and simple dramatic conflict between retreat and further attack, and produces some lovely final scenes between the two characters. Their discussion in Spartacus’ tent, heads close together, talking calmly rather than yelling at each other, is brilliantly done. This is skillful manipulation of the historical story to produce the tightest, most satisfying drama.

The only sour note historically-speaking comes at the end of the episode; Tiberius wants to crucify Crixus, but Crassus has him beheaded in order to send a message to Spartacus about what will happen to him. This doesn’t make much sense. The whole point of crucifying the rebels (as I suspect we’ll see before the end of the series) is that crucifixion is a slave’s death – Crassus is both inflicting a very slow and painful end on them, and reminding everyone of the rebels’ places as slaves. They aren’t paraded through the streets in triumph and garroted (Crassus wanted a triumph, but was informed winning a war against slaves didn’t count), but crucified as runaways, for everyone to see. If Crassus wanted to send a message to Spartacus, crucifixion is exactly what he would do to Crixus. It’s a minor point perhaps, but it irritates in the sense that it takes you out of the show for a moment as you think ‘hang on, that doesn’t sound right’ to yourself (well, I do!).

Most of the episode, though, is very well done. It's great to see our heroes get one last hurrah before it all starts to go downhill in a permanent way. Between the sad loss of Andy Whitfield and the fact that Spartacus isn’t in Gods of the Arena, Manu Bennet’s Crixus is as much a central character as Spartacus is, and he and Agron are the only actors remaining to have been in season one (though Naevia, played by a different actress, isn’t quite dead yet). It’s fitting to see all our remaining heroes, led by Spartacus, Gannicus and Crixus, enjoy one last victory and one last orgy before the end, even as the orgiastic nature of the scene reminds the audience that they are becoming increasingly like their enemy – their wild party in the conquered Roman villa looks not unlike Batiatus’ regular orgies from season one. It’s fitting, too, to see Crixus and Agron go down together (apparently), leaving Spartacus with only Gannicus and a lot of women and children (though to be fair, ‘women’ includes Helga) against Crassus, Tiberius and a really, really pissed off Caesar. A really good episode, effectively building up momentum for the finale.

Quotes

Spartacus: We cannot turn from any slave wishing freedom.
Agron: Then let her be free to starve with the rest of us.

Tiberius: You over-step Tribune!
Caesar: Many times each day, but in this we both know I do not.

Crixus: I would have us free. Truly free. Do you really believe that Crassus will stop once you crest the mountains? That the Republic will let us quietly slip away? We have shown them vulnerable. We have shown them that a trembling hand can become a fist. We have challenged the idea that a slave must always know his place, accepting rod and lash because he was taught to accept it. We built their mighty Republic. With our hands and our blood and our lives. And we can see it fall at equal cost. You opened my eyes to this, Spartacus. Do not ask me now to close them.

Spartacus: It was simpler between us when the bond stood only as hate.
Crixus: Those days are sadly past.

Crixus: When we were yet of Batiatus' ludus, I spoke of how we may have been as brothers, in another life.
Spartacus: Yet not in this one.
Crixus: Know that I was wrong. And will always hold you as such.
Spartacus: As I will hold you.

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The Roman Mysteries: The Dolphins of Laurentum

June 8th is World Oceans Day, and it just so happens that I have just (finally) finished reading the fifth in the Roman Mysteries series of middle grade books, which has a particularly watery theme! Of course, technically, the book is set in the Mediterranean Sea, not the Ocean (Oceanus, the personified Ocean, was the great river/sea that surrounded the whole world in Greco-Roman geography, and it lay out beyond the Pillars of Heracles, i.e. the Straits of Gibraltar) but with its themes of sponge-diving and swimming with dolphins, it seems a very appropriate book to put forward for Here, There and Everywhere's annual Oceanic Blog-a-Thon.

I've never swum with dolphins, but it always looks like fun, and I've heard it can be a quite moving experience. It certainly comes across that way here. The Dolphins of Laurentum explores Lupus' tragic and violent back-story. It's a dark book (I've read books about children wanting to commit murder before, but usually books aimed at adults, like the Song of Ice and Fire series or perhaps some of Thomas Hardy's particularly miserable tomes). However, the darkness and violence of the back-story (kept at a safe distance from the child reader by being mostly contained in flashbacks) is balanced by the beautiful sequences featuring the dolphins. The four children's starlit swim with four friendly dolphins is utterly magical and throughout the book, it is the dolphins that bring all of them, and Lupus in particular, a sense of peace that they cannot find in the human world. I have no idea how accurate a description of swimming with dolphins this is, but it certainly made me want to try it!

Lupus was trained in sponge-diving by his father, and the book also describes the process of free diving in detail, as Lupus makes increasingly desperate attempts to retrieve a sunken treasure. The book includes a warning not to try free diving at home at the beginning, and describes the consequences of free diving gone wrong in not unduly graphic, but also not too sugar-coated, detail. (For some reason I've always found the idea of the bends horrifying - possibly because I associate it with then being stuck in a tiny decompression chamber for hours - plus this particular problem also involves swelling eyes, bleeding from all over the place - ew!). Having said that, the exploration of free-diving techniques is fascinating and it's a wonderfully historically appropriate special skill for Lupus to have - plus, it produces exciting action sequences involving a giant octopus, and that's always fun.

One aspect of Lupus' back-story that I particularly enjoyed was a gender-inverted re-imagining of the story of Cupid and Psyche. In his last novel, Till We Have Faces (which I will blog someday when I actually finish reading it), CS Lewis re-told the myth of Cupid and Psyche, focusing on Psyche's 'ugly' sister Orual, and explored the psychology of an 'ugly' woman's relationship with, and jealousy of, her beautiful sister, who is sacrificed by the mob but ends up married to Love himself, a marriage which Orual tears apart. Here, it is an 'ugly' man who tears apart the lives of his handsome brother and beautiful sister-in-law, with masculine jealousy shown being just as destructive as the feminine variety. The most effective moment of all comes when Lupus realises that he has allowed his hate to turn himself into his 'ugly' uncle - it is finding inner peace and letting go of this hate that will allow him to follow in his father's footsteps rather than his uncle's, more than any superficial similiarity.

As ever in this series, there are some lovely light touches in this book. There's a nice nod to Citizen Kane towards the end, and I sensed a hint of Pride and Prejudice in Miriam's story (can one be attracted to a man and his house?!). There's also a fun scene that takes place on a sort of Roman tennis court, or perhaps more accurately, a squash court. We don't really know much for sure about Roman ball games, because most of the evidence is visual, but we do know that they definitely played them - you can see a number of images of different types of Roman ball game here (my favourite is the one that looks a bit like hockey). There's also a mosaic from Pompeii showing what looks like a football. The Romans were certainly keen on ball games, and might have played all sorts of games similar to modern ball games, so it's quite a fun idea to imagine them playing something so recognisable!

The events of this book are kicked off by the discovery of a disaster at sea (poor Marcus Geminus really does get the fuzzy end of the lollipop sometimes) and some of the sub-plots explore the ongoing geological disturbances following the eruption of Vesuvius, both on land and out at sea. Most of the story is set at Pliny the Younger's Laurentine villa (a place we know of from the literature, though we don't know exactly where it was) and much of it takes place on the beach or in boats so it's perfect for readers like me who love the sea, the beach and, as Ratty put it (or was it Mole?) 'messing about on boats.' All the sailing-fun of Swallows and Amazons, but a heck of a lot more actual danger, courtesy of earthquakes, octopi and treasure-hunters! Great stuff.

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The Gladiators (dir. Peter Watkins, 1969)

The Gladiators is a film way ahead of its time, a mockumentary about a reality TV show in which contestants are forced to kill each other made in 1969.

You might not have seen The Gladiators - it's a bit hard to get hold of. I had to buy it on DVD from France (through Amazon.co.uk), and it only has French subtitles. Since the film is in English, French, Swedish, Cantonese and German, this meant listening to German (which I can read, but sometimes struggle to follow when spoken) and Swedish (which I don't speak, but which is similar enough to German that I recognise bits and pieces of it) while trying to read the lines in French. The subtitles are foreign language subtitles only, not subtitles for the hard of hearing, so the French parts weren't subtitled - I speak French, but like German, I find it much easier to follow written down than spoken aloud, so that was a challenge too. The easiest parts, other than the English, were the Cantonese sections, as I could just ignore the spoken language and read the French!

Anyway, if you can speak French, the film is well worth getting hold of, because it's very good. Sometimes called The Peace Game in reference to Watkins' famous earlier film The War Game, it was made in the same year as the film version of Oh! What a Lovely War and shares distinct conceptual similarities, chiefly the idea that generals treat war like a game, a living version of Risk. Here, the United Nations (referring to themselves as the 'Allies') pit a team of conscripted soldiers against a team drawn from the major Communist countries of the time, led by China, for a reality TV show (filmed in Sweden, which is neutral). They are told to play a war game with live ammunition, the object of which is to reach the control room - except no one is expected ever to actually reach the control room and the one participant who does is left rather bewildered when he gets there.

The film draws overt attention to the gladiator parallel in the opening segment, in which we are reminded that these contests are 'based on the gladiatorial Games of ancient Rome,' though there are some important differences between the two. Roman gladiatorial Games were focused on the show, on pitting fighters with differing weapons or skills against each other or against various animals to produce an entertaining spectacle. Gladiators might gain a certain celebrity, but ultimately they were slaves or people desperate (or bloodthirsty) enough voluntarily to fight as a gladiator, so the audience would not see themselves in these people, whereas the 'soldiers' in the Peace Games are young men conscripted from the general population and chosen to represent their home countries.

The justification for the Peace Games is similar to the sort of argument often put forward for the value of international sporting events, that by directing humanity's natural aggression and rivalry into a sport (in this case, a blood sport) war will be avoided. In fact, the film suggests, the true purpose of the Games is rather more sinister. The very first image of the film is written text (in English, French and Swedish) with a constant, irritating beeping in the background. This, we are told, is the ICARUS system, designed subliminally to force everyone to play the game as hard as possible. In other words, it's a system specifically designed to force people to 'fly too close to the sun,' to do more with the equipment they're given that said equipment is capable of, and therefore to bring about their own destruction. It's a rather brilliantly evil plan, really.

Although there are references made to the Peace Games being the most popular show on television in the Western world (and to sponsors who will be angry if the start of the programme is delayed, a concern that baffles and amuses the Chinese general) because this film was made in 1969, there is not nearly as much emphasis on the wider television audience here as there is in later films like The Hunger Games. More recent productions tend to emphasise the culpability of the audience in perpetuating monstrosities like these Games, drawing parallels with the voyeuristic nature of some reality television. However, here, the audience are victims almost as much as the soldiers are, placated with the ever-popular 'bread and circuses' by 'the System' and led to believe that by watching their loved ones die on live television they are somehow helping to maintain world peace.

There is much more emphasis throughout the film on the generals, who are repeatedly shown watching and commenting on the Games. The relationship between the rival generals is very cordial, even if they snark each other at times, and they form a united front dedicated to maintaining order below. The generals eat, they are amused by the proceedings, occasionally they even fall asleep. This is their Game and they are in charge - and despite the presence of the unseen television audience, they are the true audience of these Games, for whom they're really played.

In some ways, this is a film of its time. French student B-3's personal fight against 'the System' feels very 1960s. The representation of black soldiers occasionally leaves a bit to be desired (one of them seems confused as to why he's there) though there are black generals who are just as cold and capable as the others. There is only one female soldier. She is part of the communist team (so there's no suggestion that the Western allies have recruited a woman) and her presence is necessary to allow the film to introduce a love story without having to venture into non-heterosexual territory, rather than a statement about feminism or representation of women in combat.

Generally speaking, though, the exploration of what would, many years later, become known as reality television and the use of the mockumentary format (carried over from The War Game) puts The Gladiators far ahead of its time in other ways. It's both thought-provoking and cleverly filmed; the violent climax is presented as a series of black and white stills that are somehow more disturbing than moving images, possibly due to their resemblance to real wartime photographs. (I wonder if Gary Ross has seen it, as there's a certain similarity with the way he uses close-up hand-held camerawork to depict violence in The Hunger Games). Well worth a look if you can get hold of it The War Game.

and definitely recommended for fans of

Peter Watkins talks about his aims with this film, and its availability on DVD, at his own website.

Spartacus War of the Damned: Mors Indecepta

Dead bodies in snow. Lots of them. Two guys start trying to crawl away up a hill. They don’t last long.

Spartacus wants to know the exact number of the fallen (that’ll take a while to count). The Artist tells them Crassus’ army are on the way (that wasn’t them?) so Spartacus orders those who can’t fight to go to a safe distance and those who can – well, not to suit up, because even though there’s snow everywhere still none of them are wearing tunics, trousers, nothing. But to get ready.

Crixus gets everyone ready for some violence and bloodshed but Spartacus tells them to calm down because he is a giant buzzkill. Also because he’s realised that Crassus’ army aren’t about to advance. He remembers his time in the Roman army and knows they’re not in a battle formation – they’re waiting for Crassus.

Tiberius tells Crassus that Caesar is still on sick leave, enjoying women. Crassus praises Tiberius for not doing the same thing and Tiberius replies with more creepy innuendos. Crassus asks him to move a very important chest out of sight. I really hope he’s testing Tiberius in some way, but no, he’s given Tiberius his armour back and wants him standing beside him in battle (at least this increases the opportunities for Tiberius to die horribly).

Full frontal naked woman – ah, that must mean we’re joining Caesar. He has two of them on the go, as he usually does, though he’s still nursing a bleeding wound. One of the women flatters him by calling his bits ‘Jupiter’s cock’ which is amusing since Octavian later made him a god (though not actually Jupiter).

Gannicus is all doom and gloom over the fact a freezing storm is coming, and Helga’s response is, as usual, to suggest jumping into bed. Gannicus refuses (she tells him he sounds like Spartacus) and seems distracted by Eponine staring at him. Some random dude finds the pirate guy from last episode, calls him a traitor and punches him, but is stopped by the Artist, who apparently wields some authority by virtue of being Number One’s boyfriend (or random dude is just scared of Number One). The pirate dude tries to flirt a bit, but seems mostly interested in fighting Crassus, or so he says – they seem to have him prisoner and he wants set free.

Spartacus – still wrapped in the Kingly Purple Robe of Hubris – goes to visit Boudicca in what seems to be the hospital tent and persuade her to eat because apparently having ridden all the way from wherever and escaped with her life this is the moment she’s chosen to give up. She is feeling very sorry for herself, but Spartacus points out she’s no worse off than the rest of them. She asks how you move past it, and he suggests ‘live’ and help him.

Back in the city, Maid Marian is cooking when Tiberius turns up to sleaze all over her some more. She makes it pretty clear she doesn’t give a monkeys about him, and is pretty relieved when she hears he won’t yet be coming back to Rome with them – until she finds out she’s to stay there with him. She goes to see Crassus, who is unimpressed that Tiberius told her before he could, but she doesn’t have time to explain why she really doesn’t like that idea nor he to explain just what he was thinking before duty calls.

Number One observes that Crassus has put up stands as if they’re fighting for his entertainment in the arena, because like certain other series that tried to make the climactic battle look arena-like, this one has struggled with what to do with fighting outside of the arena. Spartacus, having analysed the formations, has decided Crassus has got over-confident and wants a small group of the best of them to mount a sneak attack in the middle of the storm and kill Crassus in his bed. Crixus disapproves of killing men in their sleep but Spartacus insists (in a fun nod to the Iliad, in which Odysseus leads a party to kill men in the camp because he’s a brain over brawn sort of guy).

The Roman soldiers are apparently incapable of seeing beyond their noses in the storm, even though we as TV viewers can see reasonably well, so Spartacus’ attack team – made up, naturally, of basically the named characters – do OK until they get into what they think is Crassus’ tent and find a naked crucified man with mors indecepta (death undeceived) carved into his body, looking like a particularly gruesome X-File. Crassus is not that daft, Spartacus. Romans who can see better appear and attack in bullet time, so we know this is an important battle, and the soundtrack is quite excited too.

Naevia takes a spear in the leg and goes down, which of course distracts Crixus. Spartacus goes after her and carries her on his shoulders because he is the Hero. They’re nearly out of there when some Roman yells something unintelligible that makes Crixus really mad and he goes beserk and tries to take on several Romans all at once on his own. To be fair, this has worked well for him in the past. He survives (just) and runs off after the others.

Crassus is unimpressed that Spartacus has got away and decides that he’s had enough of tricks and wants to finish them off in a proper battle. He puts Tiberius in command, including putting him in command of Caesar, which goes down about as well as you’d expect and looks ridiculous. (Romans did not usually follow boys no matter whose son they were. Octavian is the awesome/financially generous exception to the rule). However, since Caesar is already heavily in debt to Crassus, both financial and otherwise, he doesn’t have much choice in the matter. Crassus also insists that he, having commanded Caesar, took the city, not Caesar. Crassus says they equally have the glory of it but Caesar’s not entirely fooled and not impressed. (We need a sequel series about these two and Pompey and the First Triumvirate. Now!) Tiberius decides to rub it in because he is a suicidal idiot.

Caesar, in the middle of a temper tantrum, runs into Maid Marian, who decides to enlist him in getting rid of Tiberius. Caesar is in a foul mood and doesn’t want to be part of her plots and schemes, but she points out if Tiberius does well Crassus will work with him instead of Caesar, so Caesar demands to know plainly what she wants. And the camera cuts away, of course, because if we ever actually understood what the characters were trying to do TV would be much duller and episodes much shorter.

A bunch of Spartacus’ people are sitting around a pile of something (burning? it’s hard to tell), praying. I’m not sure what or why. Crixus is still sulking even though Spartacus saved his girlfriend, so he takes him outside so they can yell dramatically against the wind. Crixus still thinks they should have just attacked Crassus and points out that Spartacus has been outsmarted. Spartacus, on the other hand, points out that if they just attack from the front, they’ll die. Crixus would rather do so than hang around.

They get mad and Crixus punches Spartacus, which the director gets very excited about, all slow-motion and flying blood. They get into a proper punch-up (more slow motion, heavy rock soundtrack) which threatens to seriously damage both of them before they get anywhere near any Romans. Eventually, having reached a sort-of stalemate with Spartacus on top, Gannicus breaks them up and Number One points out this isn’t the time to fight as the storm is still coming (apparently this much talked-about storm hasn’t actually arrived yet. It’s starting to resemble winter in Game of Thrones).

Crassus is actually a bit narked that the rebels might be wiped out by the storm (gods) before he gets the chance to finish them off himself (there’s less glory in that. Though you can always claim the gods were helping you out, that usually goes down well). Caesar brings Maid Marian to see him. Tiberius catches Caesar outside Crassus’ tent and Caesar warns him not to interrupt at that moment and taunts him a bit.

Crassus tells Maid Marian he claimed the city for her, so she can live there and he can visit her freely without his wife sulking, as a proper mistress by the sounds of things (rather than a random slave he happens to be having sex with). He thinks having her around to help Tiberius will be great. She says she doesn’t want to be blamed if Tiberius screws up, which Crassus, having temporarily taken leave of his senses, insists won’t happen. He is bizarrely unperturbed by the fact she’s openly weeping throughout this conversation and proceeds to enjoy this unexpected treat while the storm lasts.

Number One is unimpressed that the pirate guy is still hanging around and threatens him with a knife, but uses it to free him. The Artist smiles and gets, ‘Do not f*cking cast that look’ in response (but with a smile too).

Helga complains that she can’t find Gannicus as Spartacus settles Boudicca in a tent. Eponine appears to be sitting in the middle of a snowdrift, cutting herself and chanting at the fire… bundle… thing. Gannicus is trying to persuade her to come into a tent and get warm, and when she keels over, he picks her up and takes her to the nearest bit of over-hanging something.

When Spartacus can’t find Gannicus, Helga says she’ll go find him, but Spartacus stops her (he insists that, ‘Gannicus will not fall to wind and ice’ and Gannicus is so awesome that might just be true). Boudicca offers to let Spartacus share her blanket so they can, in the grand tradition of romantic dramas, warm each other. Everyone’s hair and facial hair has that fabulous white stuff so beloved of movies like Titanic stuck all over it.

Gannicus gets Eponine huddled under the random bit of something and binds up her cuts (which were a sacrifice for Spartacus, apparently). Even Gannicus seems to be starting to believe in her gods now. They also huddle together and Eponine, who has seen the romantic dramas, sneaks in a snog. Gannicus, romantic that he is, decides to take off her top layer and expose her breasts in the middle of the snowstorm. To be fair, their subsequent activity (accompanied by insanely melodramatic swelling music) is probably keeping them warm, but really. Maid Marian is naked too, but she is in a well heated fancy tent.

After the storm passes, Spartacus and Helga find the group huddled around the tiny fire, dead, all creepy and frozen and zombie-like (but not actual zombies, because this show is crazy, but it’s not that crazy). They’ve lost 1000 people in the storm – but random dude is still. not. wearing. clothes! (I’m sorry to keep on about this but – the plot is all about how everyone’s freezing to death. At least Spartacus has his Kingly Purple Robe of Hubris). Gannicus turns up with Eponine and Helga gives him an ‘I will murder you when I get you home’ look. Eponine decides the fact that the others froze to death when they sat out in as snowstorm is a sign she should have a crisis of faith just at this particular, somewhat inconvenient, moment.

Spartacus says he’s decided Crixus was right after all, while Crixus has changed his mind due to their numbers being 1000 down. Spartacus points out that nothing is ever as it appears with Crassus and suggests that the reason there are unnecessary fortifications on the trench is to hide the fact that Crassus’ numbers are not as great as believed. And if he’s wrong, they’ll embrace glorious death absent Roman swords in their backs, just like Crixus wanted. So our heroes pull down Crassus’ not overly sturdy fortifications and head into battle. It seems there are only a few hundred Roman soldiers there (and Naevia has very quickly recovered from that nasty leg wound). Fighting ensues.

Crassus has to be woken from a bizarrely sound sleep (what did Maid Marian do to him?) and is discombobulated to see a dead Roman soldier just outside his tent. Maid Marian, it seems, has run away to join Spartacus, which of course Crassus blames on Caesar. Tiberius wants to know how Spartacus got over their trench, and it turns out he did so on a huge pile of his own people’s dead bodies. (And now the show has truly become 300). Crassus is grossed out but quite impressed. He is also newly motivated to ‘reclaim what is mine.’

Our heroes attack the Romans from behind their own fortifications, rebuilt on the other side. Spartacus declares that it’s time to get rid of Crassus once and for all and get the heck out of there. End of episode.

A fast-paced episode that keeps things moving fairly well, but only three episodes from the end, I think things really need to start happening now (other than Gannicus exposing Eponine’s boobs in the middle of a snowstorm). Watching Caesar have to defer to Tiberius was almost painful – the little squirt’s horrible, lingering death cannot come soon enough. Still, Spartacus' use of his own people's frozen corpses to get done what needs to be done was both fabulously gruesome and wonderfully practical on his part - a nice, gothic-horror-y touch that lifts the episode a bit and lets it go out with a kick.

Quotes

Crixus: We shall see Roman blood upon f*cking snow! (How poetic).

Tiberius: Caesar at last rises from the dead.

Caesar: Many a giant has tumbled to the afterlife believing himself too big to fall.

Spartacus: I will not march my people to the afterlife.
Crixus: And I will not die with a Roman sword in my back!

Caesar: Cut circle to straightest line and give voice to what you would have of me. (A man after my own heart).

All Spartacus reviews

Doctor Who: Nightmare in Silver

Here be spoilers.

I've spent two days trying to work out if there was enough Roman Stuff in this episode to write a blog post about it. There were plenty of bits of Roman decoration in 'Nightmare in Silver's set-up - the Doctor et al emerge into a part of the galaxy ruled by a human Empire with the Doctor's psychic paper claiming he's a 'pro-consul,' the statue of the Emperor found early in the episode depicts him with laurel leaves on his head, the Emperor's spaceship is all marble and columns and bits of Imperial purple. But the story didn't really make that much of the Roman connection.

The position of the Emperor was important, of course. The loneliness of command, the difficult decisions faced by a single ruler and so on were major themes of the episode and Warwick Davis' early sympathy with the person who has to push the button to destroy part of the universe is beautifully played (and, coincidentally, reminiscent of the choice faced by the Doctor in 'The Fires of Pompeii'). But really, his character could equally have been called 'King' or 'Tsar' - in fact, 'King' might have been better. Porridge seems like a reluctant Emperor, which implies he comes from an hereditary dynasty. Roman Emperors were sort of hereditary, sometimes, especially in the early Julio-Claudian period (though even then not a single Emperor was succeeded by their biological son, always adopted sons) but mostly the position went to whoever fought hardest/murdered the most people. This is not a criticism - there's nothing wrong with using existing names and concepts in a fairly basic way to flesh out an SFF world, and vaguely Roman names and concepts makes a whole lot more sense than the random clerical labels Moffat took to using back in 2010 (whose only saving grace was Iain Glenn's fabulous Father Octavian, and even then it would have been cooler to just have him be a pseudo-Roman called Octavian).

What the Roman theme does do which is quite interesting is present the Empire in a positive light. Throughout the history of film, it has been common to depict Empire as evil, an over-bearing hotbed of depravity ruled by a succession of Caligulas. Porridge's good, noble Emperor-in-disguise has much more in common with pseudo-medieval fantasy kings or princes or princesses who like to dress as commoners and run around incognito waiting for brave young stable-boys/peasant girls (delete according to gender and sexual preference) to show them what they're made of. Following the positive references to Rome in Oblivion, the Romanist in me is very pleased, and hopeful that more and more productions will open up representations of Rome (ancient or science-fictionalised) to explore different corners of what being Roman means, beyond 'evil' and 'depraved.'

I was also interested to note that the waxwork from which Angie recognises Porridge shows the Emperor wearing a laurel wreath (along with a more Victorian-looking coat and a fur lining that looked like Blackadder's cat-fur thing). In Roman statues, Emperors are very rarely shown wearing laurel wreaths - though they do wear them on coins (thank you to Penny Goodman for that bit of info). What do you mean, that's not interesting?! OK fine, here's something else - a lot of Roman statues were known for being very 'warts 'n' all,' but there were also phases during which statues, particularly of emperors, would be more idealised, and I did like the idea that everyone was distracted from recognising Porridge because the artist had made him taller.

I hope we see Emperor Porridge again, and not just because I can blog about it - that character, and Warwick Davis' performance, were the saving grace of what was otherwise a bit of a 'meh' episode. I've been a fan of Davis ever since he played Reepicheep (one of my favourite Narnia characters) way back in the BBC Prince Caspian/The Voyage of the Dawn Treader and Porridge is played with a fabulous mixture of humour and pathos (almost enough to save the episode from the negative impact of the two children, whose characters were both intensely irritating, and both badly acted. I feel mean for saying that, but it was really off-putting). My reaction to this episode largely fits how I feel about the series overall - I'm honestly not sure how I feel about season 7 of Nu Who. I've been enjoying it, especially since Easter, and I like Clara, but I find the way she runs off with the Doctor every Wednesday and comes home a bit strange - I miss the days when companions got on board the TARDIS and were trapped, Sliders-style, trying to get home for years and years...

More Doctor Who reviews

Spartacus War of the Damned: Spoils of War

I hadn’t forgotten Spartacus! Unfortunately sometimes there just aren’t enough hours in the day, but it’s a bank holiday here today, so what better way to spend it than watching half-naked men attack each other? Properly Roman behaviour, I think.

When we left off, Surfer Caesar had just revealed himself to the rebels and was facing off against a group of our heroes while Crassus’ forces broke down the gate with a huge battering ram. And so the start of this episode is all fighty, fighty, fight. All the named characters still seem to be alive.

Crassus enters behind his battering ram and Surfer Caesar welcomes him. More fighting. Also some fire. Bullet-time fighting. Spartacus fights with two swords, because he is the Darth Maul of ancient Rome (and we all know what happened to him). The Artist is conspicuous by his absence so Number One runs off to find him. Gannicus offers to lead a distraction while the others get away, which Spartacus tries to refuse, but unsuccessfully.  No need to worry Spartacus, Gannicus is perfectly capable of taking on half the Roman army by himself, because he is Gannicus.

The soundtrack, which is feeling particularly multiple-personality-disorder-y today and keeps switching genres, sounds kind of like James Horner’s Titanic soundtrack for a moment.

Number One picks up the Artist and a pirate, while Eponine runs whimpering after Gannicus, because that is her job. Our guys have set the city on fire, but Crassus keeps going anyway, because he is quite fond of fire in the right circumstances (he used to have buildings set on fire, then buy the land and the neighbouring buildings cheap, then have his army of slaves put out the fire – that’s how he made his fortune).

Romans attack our heroes as they’re trying to get away, and more fighting ensues. Surfer Caesar tries to grab Spartacus but Spartacus gets away thanks to a portcullis-y-thing. Crassus decides to leave off chasing Spartacus for now in favour of hunting down any remaining rebels in the city. Gannicus and Eponine, having decided that this is not a suicide mission however much it might look like one, hide under some floorboards.

Surfer Caesar cuts his hair and shaves, which is very disappointing. Historical accuracy can take a long walk off a short cliff, I liked the surfer look! Crassus is confident in their victory, though Caesar is concerned that Spartacus is still alive and they are all going to end up like Haldir. Eponine nurses Gannicus’ wounded hand and tries to make him feel better about their impending deaths, while Boudicca is brought back into what remains of the city and taken under Caesar’s pervy little wing.

Sure, it's much more Roman, but is it as cool?

Crassus tells Maid Marian she can stay with him now, to her immense relief, while Tiberius taunts her about having raped her with the most horribly inappropriate double entendres the series has yet produced. Crassus, for whom personal relationships are not a strong point, misses everything and gives Tiberius a promotion, but tells him they’ll be honouring Caesar as the victor of the battle, since he wants Caesar’s allegiance. Because Tiberius is still a stroppy, jealous child, he sulks at this.

Further adventures of Gannicus and Eponine under the floorboards. As Romans search the building, Eponine asks, ‘Is there nothing we can do?’ ‘There is but one thing,’ says Gannicus, ‘pray.’ Of course, he doesn’t mean this literally, rather it’s a set-up for a trick, as she prays and then Gannicus kills the guy who comes after her. He leaves her with a knife and heads off to find a way out.

Tiberius threatens Maid Marian some more. It’s very unpleasant.

Boudicca gets a bath from another naked woman, both standing up in knee-deep water while the camera lingers lovingly over both their bodies (it’s been ages since we some full frontal nudity in this series, now I come to think of it). The other woman is still naked even as she’s dressing Boudicca, though it’s the clothed and made up Boudicca that Caesar thinks is a ‘vision’ to rival his ‘beloved wife’ (how beloved is open to debate, though Caesar does seem to have been pretty attached to his first wife, refusing to divorce her when ordered to by a dictator and suffering for it). The soundtrack has now slipped into Memoirs of a Geisha, which might be significant.

Crassus quizzes Boudicca on Spartacus’ character. She is unimpressed when she discovers he won with the help of the Pirate King (or is it another pirate? They all look kinda the same, all long hair and big cloaks). It turns out that Crassus has sold her to the Pirate King as a reward for helping him take the city (which he is not legally in a position to do, but no one’s arguing).

More female nudity! Tiberius finds two random women fooling around with each other – turns out they’re with Caesar, which is unsurprising.  At one point Caesar stands in the most awkward position (back to the camera, twisting and pointing so we can see his face but not his meat and two veg) because apparently we’re allowed full frontal female nudity (and get an eyeful of the third such in this episode) but men have to stop at the backside this season. Hmm. Tiberius whines and Caesar explains why he is superior to Tiberius in every way (which, let’s face it, he is) and orders some oysters (of course).

The Pirate King insists that Boudicca would be no better off with the Romans because, as a woman, she’s no better than a slave to them. Since she seems pretty well off, that’s not entirely true, and Crassus really has no right to be bargaining her off the way he has, but maybe the Pirate King isn’t an expert on Roman law. Anyway, the point is rendered moot when he brands her as his slave, thus ensuring that she’ll need a freedman’s ring or equivalent if she wants to move freely and not be crucified as a runaway slave. Gannicus and Eponine turn up before he gets any further and the Pirate King spends an inordinate amount of time trying to justify himself and threatening Eponine, but all Gannicus does is point out that she’s not his woman and go for the attack (one on... several, but it’s Gannicus, he could take on an army of orcs if he had to).

The Pirate King holds a sword to Eponine (proving that Gannicus does care whether she lives or dies), but gets no further because Boudicca jams his own branding iron through his throat, which is pretty cool. Boudicca, well aware that she has little choice now that she’s stuck with a slave brand, tags along with Gannicus and Eponine as they make their escape.

Crassus, Caesar, Tiberius and the others are enjoying watching the few rebels who are still alive and didn’t get away be torn limb from limb because all that James Horner-style background music has put them in a Braveheart mood. The other random Roman who keeps hanging around but whose name and job I’ve completely forgotten asks after Boudicca and is told that she’s left. He is horrified to discover that Crassus plans to keep the entire city for himself, because clearly he doesn’t know Crassus very well.

One of Spartacus’ captured men goads Tiberius about how a Roman should face him in single combat instead of executing him, so Tiberius announces that Caesar will dispatch the guy personally and sneakily unties the dude first. Caesar is less than impressed with Tiberius, but he first declares the honour and glory for the fight to Rome in general rather than himself or Crassus, then successfully avoids being killed, calls Tiberius a boy, and defeats the gladiator dude in an almost fair sword fight (except Caesar’s wearing armour and the gladiator dude is not) because he’s Caesar and he’s awesome. The soundtrack has now switched to computer-game style chords mixed with power chords, and I want to see a version of Street Fighter where you can fight as Julius Caesar against Random Gladiator Dude.

Gannicus and the girls walk through some Romans, Gannicus covered up with an exciting hooded cloak but the girls, unhelpfully, not and of course Caesar recognises Boudicca while the soundtrack goes sort of electric-guitar wild west or... something. Fighting ensues and Gannicus ends up riding away on a horse with Eponine while the soundtrack switches to The Hunt for Red October, looking like a knight in shining armour, because he is even more awesome than Caesar. Boudicca has to follow on her own horse behind them and gets run through the side with a spear, but Gannicus literally tramples the Romans underfoot and rides away, having defeated them through the sheer force of his awesomeness.

Caesar has his various scratches fixed up in a nice warm room, in contrast to our heroes, who have withdrawn to a snowy mountain, which is uncomfortable for them, because although they have found some cloaks from somewhere, they still don’t seem to own too many clothes (Helga is bare-armed). They are all very pleased to see Gannicus, though Eponine and Helga are less pleased to see each other. Boudicca has somehow made it too, bleeding all over her horse and according to the Artist, still with a chance of survival (perhaps the freezing cold sealed the wound?!)

Spartacus shows Gannicus their new problem – Crassus has driven them to this frozen ridge, across which he has built a sodding great wall and ditch, from behind which his army can attack them. Spartacus has by now started to work out that this rebellion may not be going to end well...

I liked this episode, especially Gannicus’ positively heroic escape from the city with Eponine riding behind him like a medieval damsel, though I’ll miss Caesar’s surfer look. Let's face it, any episode featuring copious amounts of Caesar and Gannicus being awesome is going to go down pretty well with me.

I especially love that this series, and especially this episode, has used Crassus’ genuine personality quirks and vices to show his particular brand of dodginess, instead of attributing generalised supposedly Roman degeneracy to him. Crassus in Kubrick’s Spartacus seemed to have little in common with the real Crassus and represented the various ways in Romans were imagined to be degenerate and generally naughty in the 1960s, but this character is recognisably the historical Crassus – he’s ambitious and he’s greedy, and those are his only really major vices (the fact that Crassus’ main flaws are fairly common and socially acceptable in our own society is probably the main reason they aren’t depicted in him so often). This is in contrast to Caesar, about whom there were all sorts of rumours historically, so his voracious sexual appetite is more reasonable, historically speaking, and the producers can get their degenerate Roman sex in there (though I hope we see a better male to female nudity ratio next episode). I just hope Crassus’ horrible and unhistorical son meets a suitably sticky end, preferably at the hands of Boudicca or Maid Marian.

Quotes

Helga to Gannicus: Do not die.

Crixus to Gannicus: You mad f*ck! (I think that’s Crixusian for ‘thank you’)

Crassus: Caesar is blessed with storied name and shall one day rise to shame the very sun.

Boudicca on Spartacus: He is not the beast one would have thought him.

Crassus: And in place of horns and sharpened claw?

Crassus (on himself and Spartacus): Each believes himself the hero, the other villain. It is for history to decide who is mistaken. Till that day we will play our parts upon Fortune’s stage, as each of us must.

Crassus: Greed is but a word jealous men inflict upon the ambitious.

Caesar: Must Julius f*cking Caesar risk life to kill every last rebel himself?!

All Spartacus: Blood and Sand reviews

A Song of Ice and Fire: A Dance with Dragons

Spoilers for all published books in A Song of Ice and Fire follow. For my thoughts on Book 3, which are free of spoilers for Books 4 and 5, see here.

I have finally finished reading all so-far published books in George RR Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire series, the basis for HBO's Game of Thrones. Having lent them to me and pestered me to read them, Brother found himself regretting this decision when subjected to four hours of me analysing them and trying to predict what will happen in the last two books, while I myself am torn between a desperate desire for George RR Martin to write faster and yet, at the same time, a slight hope that maybe he won't bother at all and I can stick with the endings in my head, which I suspect are much happier (and much soppier) than whatever he's got planned. Look out for a predictions thread in which I'll share some of my theories over at Doux Reviews, after season three of Game of Thrones finishes airing.

Having finished the books, I have now allowed myself to look at some of the many websites devoted to the series, particularly the TV Tropes pages and The Citadel. This has brought up a few bits and pieces of Classical hints and allusions that I'd missed because, I have to confess, the only way I was able to get through these books was to skim large sections of them and in some cases, entire chapters. (In books 4 and 5, I skimmed almost every chapter relating to any Greyjoy who wasn't Theon or Asha and didn't pay 100% attention to most of what was going on in Dorne, or relating to people from Dorne, unless they happened to be with Tyrion at the time. Anything involving Jaime and/or Brienne, on the other hand, got read in minute detail, sometimes twice. I am still a twelve-year-old girl at heart).

I got quite interested when I read about a prophecy involving a 'wooden wall' because to a Classicist that means only one thing - ships. (From the famous incident in the Persian War, recorded by Herodotus, when the Athenians were told to use wooden walls, and some argued they should hide behind the walls of the city, but Themistocles convinced them in fact it meant they should rely on their navy and lure the Persians into a naval battle at Salamis). In fact, this particular prophecy does sound like it might refer to an actual wall made out of wood, given that flaming arrows are arching over it, but you never know. I'd love it if it turned out to involve ships (and I'd love it even more if the flaming arrows hit all the ships carrying Euron Greyjoy, Victarion Greyjoy and all the other Greyjoys who aren't Asha and wiped them all out...)

It was also only when the backstory was all laid out for me by the lovely people of the internet that I noticed how close some aspects of the origin story for the war are to the Trojan War. I read A Game of Thrones way back in 2002, so I had completely forgotten the details of how Robert's Rebellion started and what happened to Lyanna Stark, and the small, slow drip-feed of additions to the story had therefore passed me by a bit as well. Looking over the thing as a whole, it's suddenly blindingly obvious that there's more than a hint of the Trojan War in the story of the man who absconds with a woman promised to someone else (with the level of her willingness to go with him varying depending on whose version you're listening to) and the sets of brothers and semi-brothers (Ned Stark and Robert Baratheon having been raised together) who go after her. I'm not sure whether this will have any relevance to the story, other than providing a fun allusion, but it may lend credence to the idea that Lyanna was in love with Rhaegar - versions in which Helen is seduced or chooses to run off with Paris tend to outnumber versions in which she is raped or abducted, though you get both.

One line that jumped out at me from the TV Tropes pages was a very interesting description of the late Joanna Lannister - according to the page on Tywin, it's said that 'Tywin ruled the Seven Kingdoms, but his wife ruled Tywin' (I have no idea which book that's from, I missed it entirely!). That seems to me to be a clear paraphrase of Robert Graves' description of Augustus and Livia in I, Claudius - 'Augustus ruled the world, but Livia ruled Augustus.' Whether this will mean anything or not remains to be seen. So far Joanna Lannister doesn't really have a character - we know Tywin loved her, she died in childbirth, and that's about it. If she was like Graves' interpretation of Livia, you have to wonder if there's all sorts of scheming going on in the backstory that we don't know about yet. Even if not, the allusion gives us a lot more sense of her character than anything else I can remember about her (and is an interesting example of reception of a novel that is itself reception of the ancient world).

Of course, A Dance with Dragons includes one of my favourite ancient motifs, the gladiatorial arena. I loved the way this scene was written so that we, reading it, know that Dany is watching Tyrion and Penny joust, while they are completely anonymous to her. The scene affirms Dany's character and dislike of the Games, and putting one of our favourite characters in peril and seeing him saved somewhat at a distance is a great way of increasing the tension and drama of the moment (and is maybe the fifth time in the entire incredibly long series when someone has done something nice for someone else for no other reason than to be nice - the others being Arya taking Gendry and Hot Pie with her when she escapes, Jaime in the bear pit, Jaime letting Tyrion escape and Tyrion making sure Ser Jorah doesn't end up in the Pits. Dany trying to protect women from the Dothraki and freeing slaves may also count. There's a reason Jaime, Tyrion, Arya and Dany are my favourite characters!).

A Dance with Dragons, like Star Trek's 'The Gamesters of Triskelion,' uses gladiatorial-style Games to demonstrate the evils of slavery - though it hardly needed to, after the horror that is the very concept of the Unsullied. But the dramatic sequence in the Pits also allows for an extra element historical stories can't include - a bloody great dragon landing in the middle of the fight and the queen flying off on it. It is awesome (probably the third most awesome scene in the whole thing, after the Tolkien-echoing arrival of Stannis to join the battle at the Wall towards the end of A Storm of Swords - the only moment of the series in which I actually like Stannis - and the aforementioned bear-pit scene). The wild, dangerous, untamed dragon being attracted by the blood and violence emphasises the horror of gladiatorial combat, as well as giving Dany her moment of glory and, hopefully, indicating that the next book might involve some actual flying around on dragons, which would be a quicker mode of transport, if nothing else.

As a footnote to the gladiators thing, I loved the sequence towards the end in which Ser Barristan is  able to defeat a pit fighter because the pit fighter refuses to wear armour and keeps trying to shame Ser Barristan into taking off his. I suspect gladiators were pretty fearsome killing machines, but they were also highly specialised, mostly using particular sets of weapons against particular opponents, so might have struggled against an unfamiliar enemy - and of course, armour, as long as it's not too heavy, is a distinct advantage.

The dragon in question. It gets bigger...

We should get to see more of Meereen and its pyramids and its fighting pits in Season 3 of Game of Thrones, so I'm looking forward to that - though unfortunately we'll have to wait until Season 6 to get the awesome dragon scene! Hopefully it will be worth waiting for...

Plebs: Saturnalia

For its first series finale, Plebs gives us Christmas in April, telling a story set during one of my favourite Roman festivals, the Saturnalia.

Most Roman-set stories that cover the Saturnalia portray it as the Roman equivalent of Christmas, for the fairly logical reason that it's where some of our Christmas traditions come from, and part of the reason we celebrate Christmas on 25th December. Plebs, however, takes a different approach and assimilates it to the modern Western celebration of New Year's, complete with their own version of Times Square on New Year's Eve and the idea that people kiss at midnight. Having already covered one of the Saturnalia's best known elements - slaves and masters swapping places - in an earlier episode, there's very little of the actual Saturnalia left other than Cynthia's straw animals and the time of year, plus the general party atmosphere, which is pretty accurate.

Part of the reason for this is that the series plays down any religious elements of the festival. There's a nice tension running throughout the episode between poor, superstitious Cynthia's terror at being cursed by a street-corner soothsayer and Grumio's total lack of concern for the gods on the grounds that they don't exist (and it's always nice to see ancient unbelief depicted in popular culture, as popular stories too often assume that everyone in the ancient world believed in every myth and every tradition). Since the writing leans firmly in Grumio's direction, it is perhaps unsurprising that it is current secular celebrations, rather than religious ones, that form the basis of the episode. More importantly, of course, Marcus is driven throughout the story by his desire to get a chance to kiss Cynthia at midnight, leading to a nice final gag which helps prevent this story from feeling too much like Friends in togas.

Grumio's story in this episode didn't work so well for me. It starts off with him stealing meat from religious sacrifices, which makes no sense at all because apart from a few vital organs, the meat from religious sacrifices in Rome was eaten at a sacrificial banquet. The Greeks and Romans were not stupid and they did not throw away tonnes of perfectly good meat on the gods. The Greeks even had a whole myth to explain why the gods got the bones and not the meat. Then Grumio nearly gets taken off to Cyprus by a cult who want to castrate him (which happened in the secretive mystery cult of Cybele, according to a slightly hysterical poem by Catullus). Which is fine, except that Grumio is a slave, so the cult aren't recruiting him so much as stealing him from Marcus. I know I'm not supposed to complain about historical inaccuracy, but this plotline just left me a bit cold, not to mention it included some rather poor taste jokes as well (though I did like the way the costume department had dressed the cult priests half in Christian monk-like robes and half in Buddhist monk-like robes - inaccurate, but rather fun).

Luckily Marcus and Sylax's plot is more successful and involves them teaming up with Water-Man, which is always nice. Cynthia's plot, though thin, is also fun and allows the episode to open with a lovely homage to Monty Python's Life of Brian as we meet a doom-mongering old crone (and there were a lot of prophecies about the end of the world and, if we believe the poets, a lot of soothsaying old crones around in Rome as well, so that works). Her logic concerning the 'accident' that's going to befall her and her conviction that if Landlord had done his job properly she would have had a worse accident was wonderful. There was some nice snappy dialogue in this episode too - I particularly enjoyed Stylax's optimistic assertion to Marcus that soon, 'You'll get with Cynthia, I'll get with everybody else!' and Landlord's insistence that the reason for the damp in one of the rooms was that it's 'a wet room.'

All in all, a fun end to the series, and fingers crossed ITV will give it a second shot, if only in the hope that poor Marcus can finally catch a break and get at least a hug from Cynthia.

All Plebs reviews