Reviews of the Bosch

“Whatever it was, I’m sure it was better than my plan to get out of this by pretending to be mad. I mean, who would have noticed another madman around here?” (Episode 6: “Goodbyeee”) For its first three series, Blackadder  was not a show known for its risks, at least not in terms of tone and subject matter. Obviously, the whole historical conceit was something of a gambit by virtue of it not having been done much in the British comedy mainstream; but Blackadder  was not a show that broadly rustled feathers or challenged the sitcom form more substantively. That is until it moved into its fourth series and the choice was made by Richard Curtis and Ben Elton to bring Blackadder  into the twentieth century by setting it in the trenches of the First World War. War comedies were obviously not a totally unheard of concept -though it was significantly less popular in Britain, M*A*S*H  had come and gone by the time Blackadder Goes Forth  (as it was cleverly titled) began production. Oh, What a

The Battle of the Sexes is such an antiquated trope and an often useless one in exploring complicated gender dynamics. Typically and historically in art, politics, and culture, it presupposes many notions of gender we now know to be untrue. But also it implies a kind of shrugging apathy with the actual harms of patriarchy and the goals of feminism. And all of that is right there in the open in probably the greatest ‘Battle of the Sexes” movie of classic Hollywood, Adam’s Rib  -even the title centres the man via the old Biblical concept of woman being merely an extension of man. It is incredibly simplistic, droll, even naive -and yet it also is charming and fun, as it uses a courtroom setting to stage its great and not particularly serious debate. This is due to both the talent in front of and behind the camera. Adam’s Rib was written for the then well-established star partnership of Spencer Tracy and Katharine Hepburn by the writing (and marital) partnership of Garson Kanin and the ini

How many pop cultural institutions have lasted sixty years? As in, maintained a presence, relevance and recognition for six decades? There aren’t many. Yet for most of that span of time, Doctor Who  has been a constant. What initially began on November 23 rd  1963 as a pseudo-educational television program about time and space travel has ballooned into one of the most celebrated and enduring science-fiction series in pop culture -as vast as  Star Wars  and Star Trek  though older than both, and more consistent. For twenty-six years straight it ran on the BBC as it evolved its purpose, its continuity, and its character. The mysterious old man in a time travelling police box became an alien Time Lord, capable of regenerating appearance and even personality, armed with a mere tool -a sonic screwdriver- in the face of foes, and an ever revolving collection of companions, some from Earth, some not -but all audience surrogates to the wild and thrilling adventures this nameless Doctor would t

Already haemorrhaging the goodwill he’s received since he arrived in Hollywood, it’s not a good idea for Taika Waititi to start his new movie by appearing as a cartoonish self-parody to tell the audience that this story of the fortunes of an American Samoan football team was mostly true “with a few embellishments”. Not great to come right out and discourage a certain degree of investment -not that it would have been there anyway- but still. It reads as incredibly cynical, which sadly is also how Next Goal Wins , Waititi’s attempt at an inspiring sports movie, comes across as well. This his second passion project “for me” film since he joined up with Marvel, and compared to Jojo Rabbit  it’s shocking just how little care and enthusiasm comes across on screen. It is a nice story, very traditionally inspiring; but quite hollow too, and Waititi seems to think he can bypass that with his typical sensibility of humour -but it’s a style that quite notably has limitations to its charms, as Tho

“I want to be remembered when I’m dead. I want books written about me, I want songs sung about me. And then hundreds of years from now I want episodes from my life to be played out weekly at half past nine by some great heroic actor of the age.” (Episode Six: "Duel and Duality") One of the evergreen staples of the British television industry is the period miniseries or television movie. It seems every year the BBC produces a handful. And with the country’s vast stores of classically ordained literature, they will probably never stop. Just look up the Wikipedia entries on adaptations for any number of eighteenth or nineteenth century books and you’ll find one or two BBC miniseries for each title (a really popular one, Great Expectations , has had at least six). And it is in the midst of this climate that Blackadder the   Third  came out. Exchanging ruffs for wigs, tights for frocks, and trading in sexy Elizabethan grandeur for stately Regency refinement, the third series of Bl