( Spoilers live from information )


In non-fictional terms, have another Brexit link, because someone channelling an anger this particular reader feels herself can be cathartic: This article is as good a summary of the current state of affairs as any.

In which it's flashback time, and also the show's gods seem to operate on the same principle as the Endless in Sandman, which is news to me, but okay.

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15. Favorite fictional father.

Ah, literary Dads. (It says "fictional", but this is a book meme, and thus all tv and movie only fathers are excluded.) My problem here is that I'm not sure at what, exactly, the question is aiming at. Because I can think of several characters I like a lot whose being parents is an important part of their characterisation, yet who are plainly terrible at fatherhood. And I have a feeling the question is going for beloved fathers who actually are good for their offspring.Or maybe not. So I shall try to provide answers for all criteria.

A sidenote first: I read To Kill A Mockingbird too late in life to have imprinted on the book. I mention this because I have the feeling Atticus Finch gets named a lot as a candidate for being both a good father and a memorable character (not a common combination in books). It probably says something about me that it took the Go Set A Watchman, the raw sequel/prequel, to make me somewhat interested in that particular father-daughter relationship.

On to my candidates: First, terrible fathers who nonetheless are favorite characters: ( Spoilers for American Gods the novel ensue )

Fathers who are doing their best at being a father but can be failboats as a person anyway: I'm stretching the definition of "fictional" here, but Theodor Fontane's version of his father Louis in Meine Kinderjahre is just my favorite for this. (Also, it's the original for a great many Fontane characters.) Now Fontane, aka one of the justly most famous German late 19th century novelists, is regarded as THE fictional chronicler of Prussian society. And yet his portrait of father Henri Louis Fontane is absolutely anti-cliché when it comes to the popuplar image of Prussian fathers. Louis is charming, loving, a fun parent, and his gift for gab - he's a raconteur , as his contemporaries who lived when German had far more French words, put it - is obviously one that passed to his son Theo. When Louis has to do the expected fatherly thing of importing moral lessons (tm), he'll tell you an anecdote about Napoleon and his marshals instead because he thinks these are more fun. (His favourite was Ney, amenirdis.) At a party, he has no problem making deliberately a fool out of himself as long as it ensures boredom doesn't set in. He's also an incorrigible gambler, which means he loses the pharmacies he has (he's an apothocary by profession), one after the other, and it destroys the relationship with his wife who also hates that she has to be the stern, punishment dealing out parent to Louis' fun parent. (Something adult Theo understands but child Theo didn't.) Said wife is the one who has to cope with the worries of what will happen with the kids after yet another bankruptcy, because she can't share the "something will come up" optimism, and is cast as the joykiller by the kids for her trouble. (Irony of fate: Theodor Fontane to some degree replicated this dynamic in his own marriage - not by gambling, but by deciding to become a full time professional writer. Which in the late 19th century was no safer economic choice than it is today.) Anyway, the portrait of his father is drawn with much affection but also with the clarity of hindsight, and said father certainly is one of the most memorable and compelling Fontane characters, and a personal favorite of mine. (Footnote: if you're wondering about the French names, both of Fontane's parents were descendants of French Huguenots who emigrated to Prussia after Louis XIV had revoked the edict of Nantes.)

Fathers who are good fathers and good people: here my favourite is a father figure, not a father. It's Meister Eder from the German children's novel (and radio play, and tv) series Meister Eder und sein Pumuckl by Ellis Kaut. (This series actually started as radio plays, then she wrote the novels, then eventually it was filmed.) Eder is a carpenter living in Munich and at the start of the story a goblin becomes stuck in his workshop by accident, and thus visible to Eder. This is Pumuckl, the red-headed guy from my icon. By goblin law, Pumuckl now has to stay with Eder, and essentially is an unruly, anarchic child to Eder's kind but set-in-his-ways dad. The charm of the novels lies in them adjusting to each other and complimenting each other in their very opposite natures. Eder, most memorably played and voiced by Gustl Bayrhammer, is a Munich craftsman fond of his beer and his quiet life and yet despite himself absolutely charmed by having this bit of magic in his life; he also makes even Bavarian-despising North Germans like at least this particular Bavarian. (Ellis Kaut herself was literarly a Münchner Kindl, a child of Munich.) Getting adopted by Meister Eder: definitely a dream fate for a great many German kids through the generations.

( The other days )

Smart, wonderful review of Cleopatra, 1963 version, too often dismissed as campy extravaganza. (amenirdis, this one is for you!) It was, of course, scripted and directed by Joseph Mankiewicz, who in this most recent list of 100 greatest screenwriters of all time makes it to No. 23 ("Says Phyllis Nagy: “There may be a more endlessly quotable screenplay than All About Eve, but I’ve yet to find it.”).

About that list: as per usual in such lists written in the English language (US edition), what they mean is "100 Greatest American Screenwriters", with the odd foreigner thrown in. They also confess right at the start: It’s worth noting that Hollywood’s traditional exclusion of women and people of color makes it extraordinarily difficult to truly qualify the best in the craft, but acknowledging today’s urgent need for more inclusive storytelling doesn’t negate the contributions of these 100 pioneers.

That said, it's very satisfying to see pioneer Frances Marion (first scriptwriter, either male or female, to win the Oscar, twice) acknowledged at No.20), and the (imo deserved) number 1 spot goes to an immigrant to whom the English language was something he only learned as an adult (which turned out to be one of the all time successful love stories between a writer and an adopted language), the late, great Billy Wilder. Some of the other choices (even keeping the US pov in mind) are bewildering, no pun intended, but such is always the case.

In terms of Hollywood history, though, it amuses me that Joe Mankiewicz' brother Herman only makes it to No.56 while Orson Welles lands at No.41. Pauline Kael would roll in her grave. As the list writers themselves put it: Once upon a time, a small firestorm might have ignited over placing Orson Welles on a list of great screenwriters. For years, his co-authorship of Citizen Kane was in dispute, with many claiming that the credit belonged almost entirely to the great Herman J. Mankiewicz. (Pauline Kael even wrote an explosive, brilliant, deeply problematic essay arguing so, only for much of her research to be discredited later.) But even if he hadn’t co-written Citizen Kane (which he absolutely did), Welles would have been one of the great screenwriters of the 20th century. He was certainly one of the great adapters, able to take everything from the most acclaimed classics (think The Trial) to the lowest-brow pulp (think Touch of Evil) and make it his own. His Shakespeare adaptations are gems of concision and imagination, balancing respect for the text with a willingness to innovate. Look at the incredible Chimes at Midnight, where he takes pieces of several of the Bard’s plays and turns them into something completely modern.

I'm totally with them in terms of Orson as an adapter. (Which, btw, Welles biographer Simon Callow argues is what he did with Citizen Kane, too - Hermann Mankiewicz' original script - with some imput from John Houseman - was over three hours long, and Welles did what he did with Shakespeare, Kafka, and whoever wrote Touch of Evil - he cut, edited, added, rewrote, until the script had the shooting shape.) It's what makes his version of The Trial infinitely more interesting than the far more literal, bland and justly forgotten version of Kyle McLachlan as Joseph K. much later, and makes Chimes at Midnight show up later adaptions of the Henriad such as The Hollow Crown as deeply conventional and pulling their punches by comparison.

On a book-to-film note, thanks to chaila I've discovered Fall Equinox, a vid-athon wherein the vids in question are using book-based source material. I've only just started to watch my way through it, but check out Wherever I Go, a breathtaking exploration of the Gods in American Gods!

Which combines in an ingenious way one of the book's "Coming to America" stories with another character's tv tale and a much-later-in-the-book reveal.

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In which the show starts to surprise book readers.

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Aka the one with Salim, the Ifrit, and the subsequently imitated by life bank robbery.

( As always, spoilers for the book as well as the episode )

The long awaited Fuller/Gaiman offspring just debuted, and thanks to Amazon Prime, I can watch it without having to wait.

It's impossible for me to review sans spoilers for the book, though. I just tried, and it's stumping me in every other sentence, so I won't. Show only viewers, beware! There be book spoilers beneath the cut.

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It's good to know that Bryan Fuller's American Gods adaption is still on, and progressing. (Not just because I'm looking forward to the Fuller-meets-Gaiman result, but because I would like a Fuller series I can watch again. Says she who tried and disliked Hannibal, thus gave it up after eight episodes.) Meanwhile, I've just seen a (German) tweet to the effect that they want to do a remake of The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. Methinks someone took notice of the fact that Penny Dreadful is drawing an audience and recalled they still have the Alan Moore property. Dear movie makers who own the LoeG rights: I didn't see your first movie because your git of a director and your idiot of a producer gave an interview before it ever came out in which they said they changed the set up from Mina being the leader to Alan Quatermain being the leader because "can you imagine Sean Connery taking orders from a woman?" So if you want me to watch a new film version, pray go back to the Moore, let Mina stay the leader (and don't change her into a vampire, the entirely human sharp tongued take charge woman of the first two LoeG volumes will do nicely), and if you must add non-Moore characters, don't let these be Dorian Gray and Tom Sawyer. Go for Lydia Gwilt from Armadale and Marian Halcombe from The Woman in White instead.

Yesterday I got a mail informing me the BBC will stop its Global iPlayer service, so that was depressing. Whyyyyy, BBC? I loved watching your shows in my trusty iPad! Has the newly confirmed Cameron slashed your budget that much already? On the bright side of BBC news, though, they're planning an adaption of A Place of Greater Safety. Considering this is the Hilary Mantel novel I love, whereas I have mixed "yes, BUT" feelings about the Thomas Cromwell novels, I hope this will indeed come to pass. Not least because: a British production about the French Revolution in which the French revolutionaries are the heroes and there's not a heroic aristocrat, British or otherwise, in sight, that will truly be a first one. (There are some sympathetic aristocrats in Mantel's novel - poor trying-to-do-the-right-thing Lafayette who gets loathed by Marie Antoinette and the Jacobins alike for his trouble, Mirabeau as the gifted and corrupt but not evil type, oh, and Mantel has fun giving a few scenes to the author of Les Liasons Dangereuses since he's Philippe d'Orleans' sidekick for a while - but they're all supporting, not major characters.) I'm also looking forward to bisexual Camille Desmoulins, a tragic instead of evil Robespierre and hope that whoever gets cast as Danton has the necessary charisma (and voice!). Finger crossing for Alex Kingston as Annette Duplessis - for Lucille, I have no opinion yet.


And lastly, because Elementary is so much on my mind these days, a fanfic rec:


When You Know I Can't Love You (3319 words) by AxolotlQueen
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Elementary (TV)
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes & Joan Watson, Sherlock Holmes & Kitty Winter
Characters: Sherlock Holmes, Joan Watson, Kitty Winter, Jamie Moriarty | Irene Adler
Additional Tags: Character Study, Platonic Love, Mental Health Issues, Mentions of addiction, Past Sherlock Holmes/Jamie Moriarty | Irene Adler, Gray aromantic Sherlock, Loneliness
Summary:

He had thought himself, for a long time, incapable of love. Some people simply are, after all.

A character study of Sherlock and various kinds of love.

...in 2013, 2014 or thereabouts:

1.) Wolf Hall. Why not A Place of Greater Safety, damm it? Riding on the Tudor craze with a much better novel as the basis, but since Cromwell's pov is a great part of what makes the novel, I'm not sure this will work in the medium of a tv show in the same way. And they need to find a very good actor for Cromwell, though the BBC has a good track record there. I also hope for a good Wolsey.

2.) War of the Roses Cousins series, aka the one about the war of the roses from the women's pov. Which would thrill me as a premise, except it's based on Philippa Gregory's novels. I've read them. Um. They're better than her Tudor ones? But still not very good. Her Elizabeth Woodville, who is, I take it, to be the central character of the show, is an example of how love for a character can actually result in making the character less interesting. See also: her Catherine of Aragorn and Mary Boleyn. (By comparison, the Elizabeth Woodville from Sharon Penman's The Sunne in Splendour, who isn't meant to be the heroine of the tale, is a wonderful example of a morally ambiguous, layered character, just as interesting as her also layered husband, Edward IV. Gregory's Elizabeth of Perfect Perfection pales by comparison.) To be fair: ironically enough I thought Philippa Gregory manages a genuinenly interesting Richard III., neither the Evil McEvil of Tudor tradition nor the White Knight of Misunderstoodness. Also, for all that I dislike her making Elizabeth and her mother have actual magical powers, the scene where Elizabeth Woodville and her daughter, Elizabeth of York, put a very specific curse of what's supposed to happen to the one guilty of killing her son(s), and indeed all his descendants, impressed me because as she goes on you realise that the curse comes true.... through the fates of the Tudor dynasty. I.e. young Elizabeth of York has inadvertendly sealed the fate of her own children and their children. Anyway, there are adaptions that transcend their source material (the first season of Dexter was definitely one of those), and maybe this will happen with the War of the Roses series, too. Here's hoping.

3.) A Casual Vacancy, based on J.K. Rowling's novel. This I can see work very well as a miniseries. It's an ensemble story told in multiple povs, which will suit the tv format and offer a lot of good roles. It also offers the kind of terse social commentary that goes with a lot of good British tv. I wonder whether, say, Jimmy McGovern adapting it would be too much of a good thing (i.e. McGovern's anger + Rowling's anger in this particular novel), or whether he'd balance the polemic with the humanity. Or maybe it will be several scriptwriters. I know that RTD isn't doing anything but Wizards & Aliens because of his partner's health situation, but maybe an episode or two?

4.) American Gods. Neil Gaiman mentioned in his blog a month or so ago that preparations are still ongoing. I'm continuing to look forward to the result, whenever it will be broadcast.