If you want, you can look at "Captains and the Kings" as a very thinly-veiled miniseries about the Kennedys, but that's undermining the quality of the piece. It makes it sound cheap and tawdry, like the actual Kennedy miniseries (all 403 of them). Sure, the hero is an Irish immigrant who scrapes his way to untold riches and...well, you know the rest. "Captain and the Kings" is a terrific homage to the American dream, both sides of it, and owes plenty to other giants of industry like Rockefeller and Carnegie. Its central character, Joseph Armagh, is the embodiment of both sides, a great hero with great flaws. Expertly written and free enough of the clutter that would have schmaltzed this up if it had been produced a decade later (hell, even half a decade later), "Captain and the Kings" is a true classic of the genre, as American as they come in sincerity and opulence, two other sides of the American dream.
Though "Rich Man, Poor Man" pre-dated "Captains and the Kings" by about seven months and thus earns the distinction of being the groundbreaking miniseries, the one that started it all, I would say that "Captain and the Kings" is actually a better cornerstone. "Rich Man, Poor Man" certainly set up the future of the romance miniseries, but its scope is rather small, staying tight on its three lead characters. "Captain and the Kings" is history and adventure, a fore running to the decade-spawning and character-driven epics to follow in the coming twenty years or so. It also foreshadows the seedier side of the miniseries genre, the Sidney Sheldon and Judith Krantz sagas, full of greed and lust, which are a whole lot of fun. Therefore, "Captains and the Kings" is far more comprehensive an effort than "Richard Man, Poor Man" even if it's been more forgotten over time.
All good epics start with a tragedy, giving the hero something to make up for his whole life long. It's 1857, New York harbor and a ship of Irish immigrants is waiting to get in. A young boy and his two siblings are on board with their mother, who promptly dies after five minutes. Priest John Carradine tells the young boy that the ship is being sent back to Ireland, and he'll have none of that, this plucky smart youth. He tosses his siblings overboard with a life preserver.
The city's homeless feed them and put them on a train to find their father. They show up at the address they remember, with a sign outside that says "Irish Allowed." Grumpy frumpy Ann Southern runs the place, milking the Irish accent and a cane for all they are worth, but she has more bad news for the kids: Dad is dead too. The youth decides that he can no longer be a child and support his siblings. He deposits them in a convent run by Sister Celeste Holm. He tells his siblings to lose their Irish accents, to become Americans. He then goes off to work in a coal mine, doing backbreaking labor during the day and studying at night. The kid isn't stupid, cunning enough to realize that Ray Bolger runs the town and all of its crime, offering his services.
Four years later, our boy has matured into Richard Jordan, still carrying illegal goods for Ray Bolger, playing his few scenes to the back of the balcony. Ray can't imagine what Richard does with his free time and books. "I'm the secret lover of a lady librarian," he says. He gets his books from rich Joanna Pettet, on whom he has a crush. He tells a priest he doesn't covet her, he "adores her" and intends to someday live her lifestyle.
Joanna may be rich, but her life isn't perfect. Hubby Vic Morrow is a drunk who beats their young daughter. Vic churns through his intro scene with an accent anything but Irish, blasting a lot of hot air as his wife because he intends to be Senator. He drunkenly goes to make an oath on the Bible, which Joanna considers blasphemy and they fight over...at the top of the staircase. Yup, she takes a tumble down the stairs, killing the child she was about to have, though she survives. It was a boy, and Vic knows how much she wanted a son. Arguing with his wife's doctor, who is no fan of his, Vic remembers a boy at the orphanage. He wonders...
As resilient as ever, Richard is attacked by three men for his money belt and beats the crap out of all three without breaking a sweat. Nothing stops him from delivering Ray Bolger's illegal money. Ray knows about the three guys, "a-moanin' and a-groanin'" in an alley, but he's impressed by the fact that Richard never spills the beans or has any trouble with the illegal activities. Ray offers him a job, at $20 a week, no less, but he turns it down. It's not part of his plan.
When Vic wondered about the kids in the orphanage, it was Richard's siblings he was talking about. Joanna and Sister Celeste Holm try to get him to agree to let them be adopted, but he refuses. He has always wanted to keep his siblings together, the three of them as a family. Despite the soft lighting just on Joanna's pretty eyes, he keeps saying no, but he can't refuse a visit to her home, to see how she lives, to see what he's turning down. Thuggish Vic is in bed with a maid when Joanna comes hope, drunk and ornery. Having finished with the maid, Vic argues with Richard about the kids, Richard still standing firm against the adoption. Richard won't let the kids live in Vic's home, "until it's up for sale." Vic even tries to buy the kids, which infuriates Richard, but makes it worse by telling Richard he'll never amount to anything. Richard has a comeback to Vic's high-handed attitude (not as good as when Vic calls him "smug-mouth potato boiler") because he knows Vic has made his money from selling slaves, and this is 1861 after all.
Having realized money is the only way to make it in America, he wants it quickly. He pays off Sister Celeste to take care of the kids for a year or more, and she promises to care for them as long as she lives. He then steals Ray Bolger's money, writing him a letter that he's doing so, promising to bring it back with interest in a year. On his way to the train, he's detained by Sargent Martin Kove, who tries to force him into the army, but he knocks him out and still can't get to the train because Lebanese pick pocket/chatterbox Harvey Jason stops him, figuring of all the men in the crowd, he stands the best chance of getting on the train with Richard. He's right, for they do get on the train, but just as he's describing the best way to get rich, Harvey's leg gets stuck and almost amputated, but Richard does a bit of daring and saves his new buddy.
Impressed by Richard's bravery is Charles Durning, slurping down a bottle of whiskey and renaming Harvey's character to make him sound less like a "heathen." He's another bombastic loud mouth. Richard can't escape them! Richard tells Charles of his ambition, and after Charles stops choking on his liquor and laughing, he actually agrees. The two gab the whole train ride, where Richard reveals himself to be educated and ambitious. "You've got all the makings of a good scoundrel," Charles admires. Charles is something of a big deal in Titusville, and he takes Richard and Harvey under his wing, insisting that Richard is responsible for Harvey. The lure of Titusville is its oil, Richard's surest way to success.
Talk about your attempt at scene stealing, Charles introduces Richard to "Martinique," not his wife, but the woman living with him, played by Barbara Parkins like a slutty Mrs. Danvers. Also living at Charles' is Beverly D'Angelo, not his daughter, but a hooker he bought. "She loves me like a father in every way but one," he boasts. Charles decides to teach Richard everything, but for Richard, it's all about money and since Charles won't pay him much, he decides to work in the fields, against Charles' advice.
Richard takes the worst possible job he can, hauling nitro glycerine around, while he learns everything he can and tends to his now-hobbled friend Harvey, who has caught the attention of Miss Beverly. Using their combined skills (Harvey is a banker), Richard decides to buy up oil field options for his new company. In less than a year, Richard is able to pay Ray Bolger back, with interest. Ray notes that Richard paid him back in less than half the time promised, which reminds us that Richard may be hungry for money, but he's a man of his word, so much so that he's able to wheedle an exorbitant amount of money from Ray to give to Harvey to buy up the oil field options (remember, he's the hero, so he's once again promised to pay Ray back, even though this money isn't stolen).
Even nature can't get in the way of Richard's drive. He and a fellow nitro glycerine hauler are doing their work when a convenient avalanche kills the other guy. Later in the day, he's dressed in his finest, visiting with Barbara Parkins, ogling all the books in the library. The difference between the money Charles has and Richard will have is in these books: Charles told Barbara to buy the finest books, but he doesn't care what the books are. Richard knows all of the authors and what is IN the books. Okay, okay, it's a bit on the heavy-handed side, but it keeps Richard human. No one ever talked about Joe Kennedy's library.
Charles proposes another scheme, this one requiring Richard to dress up in brand-new finery to get into a "venture" with Peter Donat. At $2000 per month, Richard accepts the job without even finding out what the job is. "The alternative to the success of this job is not failure, but death," Peter warns him, but Richard is undaunted, asking only to write out a sort of will. It turns out the job is to run guns during the height of the Civil War. Richard isn't afraid of that.
He then gets a visit on a stormy night from va-va-vooming Barbara Parkins, who pegs him as a virgin. With serious intent, she decides to solve that problem. It's the least romantic deflowering I can think of in any miniseries. She starts kissing his chest, but he stops her. "Before you take off all my clothes, take off yours," he commands. The camera pans to the window and then back to the two, now finished, Barbara resting her head on Richard's sprawling chest, as we've seen so many times in the genre. Barbara tells a somewhat cryptic history of her time with Charles, and that they do not have sex. "His needs are very simple, and, as you can tell, mine are not," she purrs, saying that she's been waiting for a man like him. This one sexual experience has given Richard sexual balls as well, and he wants Barbara for his own, but she shoots that one down, refusing to be owned by anyone. Vamping the hell out of the scene, standing naked at the window, she tells him she'll be his any time he wants her, but he is never to ask what hold Charles has over her ever again.
Peter takes Richard to meet Pernell Roberts, the Union Colonel who is part of the gun-running scheme. His is initially afraid to be caught as a traitor, but receiving $50K for his part in it soothes those worries. Richard turns out to be a better deal-maker than anyone expects. That night, it's off to the theater to see Edwin Booth (Peter notes that he's never seen him, but has met his brother, John Wilkes Booth, "excellent"--yes, we know, it's still the Civil War). What I'm not mentioning here is the way all of these deals go down. It's beautiful writing (we have to thank Taylor Caldwell's novel as well as the writers of the script), very cleverly handled, like a mystery novel.
With the gun running episode successful, Richard returns to visit his siblings, Sister Celeste Holm and Joanna Pettet. Richard and Joanna have a talky scene about, well, not a whole lot, and she insists that he better not be in love with him. He never has been. To make sure we understand, the next scene has Barbara accosting him on the doorstep with an open mouth. Charles' daughter is in town, and the house rule is that when she is in residence, Beverly isn't. They stash her in a hotel. Hanging out the window that evening, she spies Harvey on the street and beckons him to her room. Beverly keeps trying to take her clothes off and seduce him, but nervous Harvey, like Richard, is too focused on the financial rewards of life. He's also scared of fooling around with her because Charles won't like it. "I didn't ask you up here to do anything bad," Beverly mopes, "it's just that I'm so lonely." To make sure he understands her flirtations are more pure, she gives him a token to a whorehouse, which he says he will keep "forever."
Charles' daughter is lovely Blair Brown, a belle pure as snow, especially coming from such a hard-boiled tough as her conniving father. Charles makes it clear that Blair is only good enough for someone high-toned (Charles would play Honey Fitz later on his career, Rose Kennedy's father, in some very similar scenes). Charles announces the gun running is over and he wants Richard to come into the oil business with him, but Richard has no money to buy stocks, all of his money in what is considered the oil-free land he and Harry have been buying. Basically, the scene rolls on as Charles tries to screw Richard out of everything he owns, and a furious Richard storms out, which makes Charles all contrary. He knows Richard's land is worth a fortune, so he wants to be his partner. Richard agrees, but on his terms. Charles has no choice but to agree, with a few conditions of his own and a promise that he'll "never cheat ya." Richard tries to angle in one last term, that Charles tell him what hold he has over Barbara, but he refuses. At any rate, they agree.
Richard sets out to re-invent the oil industry, starting with the railroads, bringing us Robert Vaughn. It's here that Richard shows is darker side, getting the railroad barons to agree to ship only oil controlled by his company or those of his friends. "That's nasty...and I love it," perpetual villain Robert sneers.
Among all the scenes of corporate greed, we have to suffer through a little more pain between Harvey and Beverly. Their scenes reek of the dippy secondary love plots in creaky musical comedies. But, they finally do have sex and though Richard is thrilled, he knows Charles will be pissed, so he sends Harvey out the back way to avoid detection. Unfortunately for Richard, the sex happened in his bed, so when Charles' hulking manservant comes in, he thinks it's Richard who has had his way with her. A fight ensues and the manservant ends up dead, with Beverly pretending that the manservant tried to rape her. Charles doesn't believe that, still thinking it was Richard, but Barbara gives him a true alibi. No one rats out Harvey, and Peter Donat steps in to save the whole mess by concocting a story where the manservant was drunk and fell out of the window.
The biggest question is whether or not Charles and Richard can trust each other anymore.
Blair Brown has an instant crush on Richard. Daddy's chaste little girl is an avowed flirt, but Richard will not allow himself to be taken in, as he promised Charles. Late one night in the kitchen, Blair lays it on the line: she's not looking for a husband, just fun and sex, like the arrangement he has with Barbara. Just as Blair tells Richard she does not intend to be a virgin forever, Charles and Barbara arrive back home with Vic Morrow, Richard's old nemesis who wanted to buy his siblings. To make Richard jealous, Blair takes up Vic on his offer to take her back to school on his private train. And it's there that Blair ceases to be a virgin.
Over a pool game, Richard gets back to business, buying out George Gaynes' company without actually spending a dime, and now the robber barons and Robert Vaughn consider him for membership in their exclusive club of fat cats.
For the first time, we venture into real-life characters in a brief scene where President Lincoln welcomes Vic Morrow to Washington as its newest Senator. Blair follows him to DC to drop the bomb that she's pregnant. This smart cookie has decided to marry a "socially prominent Protestant" man to act as the father of the baby, a man who has asked for her hand in marriage. He can't say no because he's just died in battle, so Blair insists that Senator Vic forge the necessary papers to make her an instant war widow with a legitimate child on the way. Richard and Barbara go along with the scheme (whether they believe it or not doesn't matter), but Charles gets rip-roaring drunk, going for the gold with a hoot of a scene and then dies.
Charles' will is a hoot. He leaves an awfully lot of money to his servants and employees, $50K to Beverly, who can now marry Harvey, and $150K to Barbara. She is now free to tell her story: she's part black from parentage in Jamaica, killed the son of the Jamaican government who tried to make her a slave and was taken to safety by Charles. She will go to Europe and seek a rich man, telling Richard to stay and marry Blair. Charles leaves the bulk of his fortune to Richard, with the stipulation that he manage Blair's money. With Richard and Blair now tied together by this condition, Richard wants to marry Blair, but she refuses. "It's just too late!"
Now that Richard is sole owner of Charles' oil company, he's invited join the robber barons on Good Friday, 1865, just as Lincoln is shot.
Fast forward to 1873. Richard is fabulously wealthy in his massive garish house, finding that money isn't enough for him. He wants power! So, he gets Harvey to buy a bunch of politicians. Speaking of politicians, his neighbors are Vic's family, with now-grown daughter Patty Duke.
Also grown are Richard's siblings. Katherine Crawford is first seen at confession, saying she wants to join a convent in Baltimore. Brother David Huffman, at Harvard, is bent on labor reform, pushing unionization on the workers, much to Richard's chagrin. Richard sees the irony in this: David is "weeping for the downtrodden" without "having worked a day in his life." He quips that he should have never left his siblings so long in the church. Unfortunately for David, he's caught in the middle of a labor battle where Richard's goons mow down a bunch of workers before being saved by Jenny Sullivan, a mine worker herself, who sends David to his brother to report on the heinous crime.
Joanna is dying, so she gets a deathbed scene with Richard. She had once asked Richard not to love her, but now she admits that she's loved him all along, and he admits the same. Geez, it only took a few decades! The conversation takes a creepy turn when Joanna tells Richard that her daughter Patty also loves him and she wants Richard to take her safely from obnoxious Vic's house and to marry her. It's one hell of a deathbed scene, full of halting whispered sentences delivered only with the light from a nearby fire. As soon as Richard agrees to marry Patty, Joanna dies peacefully.
Rather than actually grieve for his wife, Vic decides to lambaste Richard, accusing him of having an affair with his wife. The two have a gigantic fight, and of course old alkie Vic is no match for strapping Richard. Stopped from beating him to a pulp, Richard declares, "I won't kill him. I'll destroy him, and by God he'll wish I had killed him!" That makes for a great cliffhanger as the episode ends.
Vic chases Richard, who asks him for Patty's hand in marriage, which prompts Vic to think that it's Patty Richard has wanted all along. Richard doesn't bother correcting him.
His siblings are still proving a problem. Richard and David have a blowout over the labor issue, where David sounds like like any labor organizer of the 1870s, ending with the capper that he feels Richard made all of his money only for himself, not his siblings. Well, he may not be entirely wrong. After all, we do have a flawed hero here. It's possible Richard had his siblings in mind, but also himself. The argument ends with Richard cutting David out of his life and David vowing that he'll be a permanent thorn in his side over the labor issue, even from afar. Katherine has been listening to all of this while praying upstairs for the courage to leave Richard and join the convent. The causes Richard's second argument in ten minutes. If anyone else arrives, the poor man will lose his voice, not to mention he's fast running out of cliches (his siblings are so dull and I get the feeling the writers agree). "Sean can go to hell and you...can go to Jesus!" Richard bellows at the end of the argument, with Katherine playing herself on the floor. At least he ended on a grandiose note.
The problem of labor takes over for a while. The governor, the railroads and management gang up on the workers, with David and Jenny at the center of it. David is a fierce orator. He actually castigates the workers at a meeting for forming a mob because that "invites suppressive action from government." A different tactic is needed.
In 1880 and Patty, who knows she's stuck in a marriage springing from a deathbed promise, has given birth to four children, and now Patty's father Vic is marrying Blair. Not only does he think Blair is too good for Vic, but Richard has been keeping a dossier on the Senator that he intends to use at some point, to utterly destroy him. That might make his marriage a little uncomfortable. Harvey hopes to blunt this action by reminding Richard of this, but Richard says that what Patty thinks means absolutely nothing to him. Richard is becoming far more of a flawed hero.
Six months later, Richard's plan has worked so well that Vic is politically neutered and about to be destroyed financially because the government is demanding "recompense." Drunk as hell, Vic spews a whole speech at Richard, not knowing it's Richard who has ruined him, but he soon finds out! Vic pulls a gun and says he's going to make his daughter "a widow," but Richard is calm, even telling him to wait for a thunderclap in order to shoot so his daughter and grandchildren will never know. But Vic can't pull the trigger. Having thoroughly destroyed Vic, Richard literally tosses him out of the house into the violent storm.
David is sent to prison on a fake charge of inciting a gang of men to blow up a train and sentenced to hang. Jenny, baby in tow, begs David to contact Richard to help, but he refuses. So, she goes herself. Richard agrees to help only if Jenny agrees never to tell anyone he has done so. When Robert Vaughn wonders why Richard has not gone after the culprits of train bombing with more venom, he claims it's not because of his brother, but for his son. Why? Because he wants him to be the first Irish Catholic President (that does indeed sound familiar) and an uncle who was executed will not be a help. Robert retorts that "he has as much chance as little black Sambo." That's certainly laying it on the line. Richard and Robert even agree to marry their small children at some future date.
Vic dies in the gutter one rainy night (it always rains when he's around, have you noticed that?) and even President Garfield expresses his sympathy, introducing Richard to Senator Henry Fonda. He's a problem for the robber barons because he's pro-labor and apparently squeaky clean.
Things get ugly when, at the Capitol rotunda, Blair demands to see Richard. She knows everything Richard has done and she wants her money separated from Richard's, against the will of her father. Richard refuses anyway because in order to disentangle their money, he would lose money and that he refuses to do. Blair picks this moment to tell Richard that the baby of the dead fake husband was actually Vic's. "It seems we all wasted our best years...without love," Richard tells Blair before grabbing her and marching her upstairs to the bedroom. He's always wanted her and now his reasons for not having her have all disappeared.
Richard wants to marry Blair but she knows of his plans to put his son in the White House and she's fine being his mistress so as not to ruin those plans. "For the first time, everything is as it should be," she says before doing what all miniseries lovers do, placing her head on his chest.
An intimate dinner is thrown by Richard for just himself and Senator Henry Fonda. Richard oozes charm at first, but Henry wants honesty, so they hash out the issues. Henry has a bill in Congress that will help even the poorest workers by outlawing foreign workers. Richard and his gang want the foreign labor because they come damn cheap. Henry notes that Richard is attempting to bribe him, which Richard knows he can't prove, and Henry has had enough. But, Richard has a surprise waiting and calls in Harvey. He brings a bunch of documents that would ruin Henry. The big secret? Henry had a mulatto grandmother. It's 1881 and that still carries some weight. Henry nails this scene, his usual understated acting style a virtue in handling the character's conflicts.
Once Henry leaves, Richard burns the documents, his only hold over Henry, much to the admiration of Harvey, but events may have gone too far already. Henry leaves a note at the hotel desk that he plans to kill himself and leave that curse hanging over Richard's head forever. That's a delicious plot twist. Yes, we could see it coming by Henry's demeanor, but watching it unfold is great TV.
Wifey Patty has had Richard followed by a detective, who says Richard is completely faithful, except for "the party." "Stop calling her a party. It sounds positively festive," Patty snaps. When she finds out it's Blair, she's calm and actually offers the detective a new job. She's figured out that Blair's son is actually Vic's. She wants her detective to find out the truth she already knows, this time with physical proof. Patty races off to Blair's house for the showdown. In no uncertain terms, Patty wants the affair to end, but Blair refuses, so Patty pulls out the evidence. However, Blair doesn't give Patty the reaction she was hoping for. Blair doesn't care if the truth comes out: she'll help put it out there! She was only holding it back while Vic was alive. What does it matter now? No wonder Patty won an Emmy for this performance. She's sensational here. She goes from calm and definitive to wild and angry with a slow build and then to utter devastation when foiled. By the end she's begging Blair not to tell Richard any of this because she "fears his hate" more than anything. It's a gorgeous performance and a great way to handle plotting.
In 1892, Richard's son has grown into Perry King. At the theater, Richard tries to push Perry into Robert Vaughn's daughter Cynthia Syke's arms, but Perry likes to squire around many women and doesn't want the unintelligent Terry.
When Richard gets home, he finds Patty drunk. It seems she's degenerated into an alcoholic worse than her father. The showdown with Blair has completely undone her and forced her into this depraved lifestyle. She hisses at Robert that he's using his son to get back at the world for treating him badly as a child and ignoring his other kids. She begs him to hit her. "It's the first time you'll have touched me since you started sleeping with my S...T...E...P...M...O...T...H...E...R!"
Perry is about to be kicked out of school for fighting and this angers Richard, who threatens to fight back by blackmailing the other kid's father, who was forced to drop out of a campaign for cloudy reasons. He dispatches Harvey to Mayor Burl Ives' house to find out the dirt (a homosexual liaison) and gluttonous Burl is happy to oblige. The plan, naturally, works.
As for Perry, he's infatuated with a Vassar girl...wait for it...she's here...Jane Seymour! Yup, she's here, gracing this story with her presence! With the help of his relative Terry Kiser (Blair's son), he meets her in an ice cream shop where she's on a date with another man. Perry refuses to leave and Jane's date's friends gang up on him. He leaves, but he's just beginning his assault on Jane's attentions. It's working during a Romeo and Juliet-like balcony scene when the thugs from the ice cream shop beat him up. They douse him in alcohol and hang a sign around his neck: NO IRISH.
Though Perry wants no immediate revenge, his brother Doug Heyes doesn't see it like that and beats the hell out of Jane's other suitor. Perry is still infatuated with Jane, who is definitely cracking under the full weight of his charm. The biggest problem is that Jane is Protestant and Perry is Catholic. As violins suddenly spring up on the soundtrack, Jane tells Perry that she can't disobey his father, that he's confined to a wheelchair and needs her. But, Perry is tough and they two make out on the grass as Jane confesses her love.
And who should be playing Jane's papa but John Houseman? A miniseries regular, he and Jane missed out on working together in the Herman Wouk pieces, with Houseman in "Winds of War," replaced by John Gielgud in "War and Remembrance," while Jane took over Ali McGraw's role for the latter. In his spitting venomously way of speaking, John spells out all the reasons he hates the whole Armagh family (father cheats, son is a "libertine"). He then has a convenient attack of whatever ails him and then lays the guilt on thick. "If you choose to to be seen with this Rory Armagh (Perry King), you've seen the last of me...in the little time I have left." Are we sure he's not playing a Jewish mother? Even an Italian mother?
Perry has to break the news to his father too. Richard is thrilled, only because he assumes it's an affair and won't last. He can't countenance an actual marriage because Catholicism doesn't allow for divorce should Perry grow tired of her, but that's not the worst of it. He tells of Jane's religion, and Richard explodes in a tirade worthy of his long-gone mentor, Charles Durning. He tries to make Perry understand that it's only a select group of men who control the entire world, but Perry doesn't buy it (I guess he hadn't watched the previous five episodes). "They exist. I know, because I'm one of them! And you will be too. And those men will make you President!" Richard yells, but only if he marries a Catholic.
In 1896, Perry graduates and they commemorate the occasion with some photographs on the lawn. Everyone is present except sister Ann Dusenberry, who is in love with Perry's pal Terry Kiser, making out when Perry goes to find them. They want to get married, but that presents a problem because they are blood relatives. No one but Richard and Patty know (which is why Patty hates him), but not Perry does. Richard breaks the news to Terry, who races off to find Ann, dashing off to tell Patty about the impending nuptials. Fate intervenes, as it always does in these situations, and before she can tell Patty, she is thrown from her horse and falls. As good at "Captains and the Kings" is, it's still a soap opera, and these helpful twists of fate have a way of settling difficult situations. Everyone waits for Ann to return, but she doesn't and by nightfall, they are worried and go looking for her. Terry finds her alive, but barely.
Something has happened to her. She's awake, eyes open and such, but she does not understand, cannot comm...okay, I'll say it...she has brain damage! This part does in fact reek of the Kennedy curse, in the form of a Rosemary stand-in. Patty, in a full rage, wants Blair and Terry out of the house, but they leave only after Terry lets loose a little bile in Richard's direction. He's always liked Richard, but now he hates him as much as he hates Patty. Before leaving, Terry demands some alone with Ann to tell her he's leaving, not that she comprehends. Richard and Patty take Ann to the best specialists in Europe, but no one can help. Perry tries to gloss over it by noting Patty gets to spend time alone with Richard as she's always wanted.
Harvey sums up a few plots for us, just because they have been dangling: Richard's siblings are still alive and Kathleen even writes twice a month, though Harvey hides the letters. And Harvey's own beloved Beverly has died.
Perry and Jane get married by a Justice of the Peace and head right to bed while the Justice's wife realizes who Perry is and formulates a plan in her mind due to Richard's wealth.
London, 1897. Cantankerous Patty and Richard are at a hotel, where Patty annoys the staff, but Richard is only excited that Robert Vaughn has been appointed Ambassador to the Court of St. James, which means the marriage between Perry and his daughter will be even more important. Oh, and then there's a letter in the same packet from the Justice of the Peace.
Neither father nor son brings up the marriage when Perry arrives in London. Instead, Richard takes Perry to meet the men who rule the world, telling him it may be the most important night of his life.
Perry goes to the meeting and it's downright bizarre. It literally is a collection of accents, men who run the world, or at least they think they do. If we thought Richard was getting too evil, we now have TRUE evil to make him look a little better (though he's one of them, he says he doesn't like them). Just as Perry is about to tell Richard he is married to Jane, when Richard tells him of his plans, $20 million the day he marries Robert Vaughn's daughter. If he does not marry the girl, he's cut out of dad's will and dad's life. Perry chickens out and doesn't tell him (although he already knows).
Back in NYC, and back in bed, because that's where they exist, Perry admits he didn't tell his father about Jane, but that he will stay married to her and his father can make one of his brothers President. The world then gets in the way when the Spanish-American War breaks out and Perry realizes the men in London made it happen.
When Richard returns to Philadelphia, he takes his anger at the marriage out on Harvey, whom he accuses of disloyalty and everything thing else he can think of. An impassioned speech of eternal devotion brings Richard back down to earth and he forgives Harvey. Besides, he has a plan already to "destroy" the marriage.
Perry and brother Doug argue about what the war means right before a montage of Teddy Roosevelt and Bill McKinley disagree about what to do with the war. Roosevelt wins out and McKinley declares war. Doug even joins Teddy's Rough Riders. Somehow the only solution to bring him back is for Perry to go after him. I could think of about 15 reasons right now that might work better, but so be the vagaries of plot.
Have you been missing Patty Duke? She's losing it, sort of mad, sort of drunk, sort of guilty at Ann's side. Ann is still in the same medical state, and Patty tells her a fairy tale that ends with self-recrimination. They aren't part of the plot much anymore, but Patty is still acting up a storm.
Two different wars are juxtaposed in quick alternating scenes. The first is the war in Cuba, with Perry hunting down his brother. The other is Richard going to John Houseman's office to discuss their children. John his aides he expects to melt Richard's gruff exterior, but if not, he will ring his bell and they will take him forcibly. Uh huh, two old men against Richard. Richard has the upper hand because he knows of the marriage. Judge John is aghast when he finds out Richard has destroyed all records of the marriage, having paid off the Justice of the Peace and the County Clerk. Furthermore, he's forged notes and had a handwriting expert pen them in Perry and Jane's handwriting ending the marriage. To sweeten the pot and get John to go along with it, he'll pay John $10K a month.
In Cuba, Perry looks very sexy in a shirt ripped in all the places to show off his body to maximum effect as he is forced to take up a gun and look for Doug. It takes a while, but he finds his brother, mortally wounded so badly that Perry has to lie to him and tell him the Rough Riders have won the battle, which is far from the truth. Watch Perry as he listens to Doug's patriotic speech about fighting for one's country. He looks like he's going to laugh the whole time. It is over-written to say the least, the kind that makes you want to rush to your closet and dig out that flag you've been saving for the front lawn. Doug dies right after giving the speech, cradled in his brothers arms.
When Richard goes to tell Patty about Doug, she is asleep in bed, clutching a glass. He happily fills it for her because she's going to need it. Before he can tell her about Doug, she admits to having told Ann about Terry (causing her to race out and get herself injured), but Richard forgives that quickly in order to deliver the really bad news. Patty flies into a rage and then crouches on the ground, wide-eyed, talking of a curse on her family: father, daughter, son...at least for now. Patty and Ann are packed off to a nut house and Perry brings back Doug's body for burial.
Perry dashes over to find Jane, but only finds the note his father has planted. It's a doozie, saying she had to leave him and is off to travel with her father. Perry goes on a binge that ends him up in Chicago where a local thief and hooker snatch his wallet, but realize he's the nephew of labor leader Uncle David. So, they call him and David tries to talk sense into his nephew. Perry goes home, admitting defeat to his father. He will marry Robert Vaughn's daughter, collect the $20 million and become President.
It's 1910 and Richard wants Perry to be President in 1912. He's been a dithering Congressman, so Richard wants the governor, whom he pays, to appoint Perry a senator (in the days before senators were directly elected). Marriage to Cynthia has produced some heirs, so everyone has done their duties. Perry does everything asked of him by the men in power, bending their way to kill bills in Congress he believes in.
Then there is brother Cliff DeYoung, up to now ignored. He's a wastrel, flying planes and thinking of selling them to armies should a war come. He even has a movie star girlfriend and a movie studio. She's a ditz. "I cried at my own acting," she proudly says. "So did I," he says sarcastically.
Sorry to end Cliff's mirth, but Richard has had a heart attack. Not expected to live, he's defying the odds and even firing doctors. The dream of Perry being President is not dying with Richard. Cliff is his campaign manager and they bring all their cronies together to buy votes across the country. "And send me the bill," Perry says. Handsome and excitable, Perry is an ideal candidate, with his father reading every paper praising his son from his bed. Not everyone is happy, though. Protestant preachers and the KKK aren't happy. Hell, the KKK does their whole cross burning thing on Richard's lawn.
The campaign goes very well. It has some bumps, some people within his own party who don't like him, but the juggernaut rolls on. And then Jane Seymour calls out of nowhere. Perry dashes off to see her and they fall into each other's arms (and onto the floor) the minute she opens the door. On his deathbed, her father admitted all he had done. They confess eternal love to each other, but Cliff has to find a way to figure this all out.
Blair Brown is dying. She and Richard have stayed apart ever since Ann's accident, but since she is dying, maybe it's time. Harvey is dispatched to see how she is. Other than some bad putty wrinkles and make-up, she looks pretty damn good! The doctor has given her a sedative, so she has to sleep, but she invites Harvey back in a week to "talk all day." Uh oh, don't put timing on it, because that makes it a sure thing she'll be gone in a week. On his way out, Harvey finds a letter that Blair has written but never intended to send, one last love letter. Indeed, Blair croaks four hours after Harvey left.
As Cliff runs around buying votes for Perry, Harvey tells Richard he wants to retire. "Was it something I did...or didn't do?" Richard asks of his one true friend, the only person he really trusts. As a parting gift, he gives Richard his sister's letters that Richard thought were destroyed. Harvey intends to travel the world and be back in time to vote for Perry.
Uh oh. The men in power have decided they want Woodrow Wilson to be President, with Perry as Vice President, still promising to make him President, but not until 1920. The men have decided a war is necessary in the coming years and Wilson is the best man to handle it. This is all rather a nasty plot twist to characters we have come to love, undermining the dream Richard has had for so many years, as good or bad as he may be.
Uncle David gets a surprise when Richard shows up at his house. His wife decides to tell him the truth about how Richard saved him all those years ago, so he agrees to see Richard. This is the first time Richard has appeared timid and tentative, even afraid. There is some power missing from the scene because David was never given a fully developed characterization. Anyway, the reason he's there is to ask his brother's help in winning the election for his son, having to fight against the men in power. This whole scene serves to redeem Richard's character one last time. No longer a member of the evil boy's club, he wants to what he's always wanted now based on merit. Richard tells Perry the men have dropped him and Perry is thrilled, because he has wanted to smash them. Unfortunately, Robert Vaughn has been listening to the whole conversation on a phone extension, so things are going to end badly.
Okay, with only moments to go in the movie, we get a plot twist we did not expect and one that is, frankly, damn annoying. The Titanic sinks with Harvey on it. Come on, is that REALLY necessary? Fine, I understand that Harvey needs to pay for his sins just as much as anyone, but on the Titanic? That's historical fiction at its dumbest.
I hate to bring this up, folks, but with Perry running as an idealist, suddenly on the opposite side of the men in power, he has to die. A story like this demands it. During a campaign stop, he is shot and dies, but at least in Jane's arms. Where else is Richard to turn but to Patty, calling herself "confused," but completely bonkers. She's been paying for her sins for way too long. Richard is just starting. He even invites Jane to mourn with him at the funeral. She tells Richard how much Perry loved him and he starts to cry, not having really understood it all these years. The funeral is an odd assortment: Richard, his nun sister, both of Perry's wives and even Robert Vaughn, who had him killed.
Humbled and broken (we assume that Cliff dies in an airplane accident), Richard sits in a chair in his great mansion, having lost everyone and everything that should have mattered to him as he spend his life racing for power and money.
If the last episode of the miniseries is a bit too sentimental, a completely change of tone from the rest, it's to be expected. People do have to pay for the things they want most, and in this case, it's not payment in money, but in lives. That's a lofty idea, one we might not have expected television to tackle in the 1970s. But here it is and it's splendid.
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
A Woman Scorned: The Betty Broderick Story AND Her Final Fury: Betty Broderick, The Last Chapter (1992)
That's right folks, a double-header! You can't watch one without the other, so put together, these two make a miniseries. Plus, it has to be in the top ten most played on the Lifetime network (if only Tori Spelling had made a sequel to "Mother May I Sleep With Danger?" we could be talking about her too) and it's too much fun to ignore.
It's a true story, that of Betty Broderick, a woman who killed her husband after he left her for another woman. I don't know Betty Broderick personally so I can't speak of her personality, but somewhere very soon into the movie, it stops being about Betty and starts being about Meredith Baxter's performance. Good? Not really. Insanely watchable? You bet! Meredith goes over the top and then more in her grab for role of a lifetime. The goes so far that one actually sympathizes with the dead characters for not having to deal with her anymore. In saying that, I'm not worried that should Betty Broderick ever be released from prison she'll come after me, but I am worried that Meredith Baxter might hunt me down if I weren't so absolutely sure she's damn proud of her work here. She's having a whale of a time as Betty Broderick!
Things start out as perfectly as possible. Betty is a soccer mom, literally, with shoulder pads and mom jeans, cheering on her kid as he scores the winning goal. Hubby Dan (Steven Collins, always dying in a miniseries) is a successful and they were "euphoric" with all the money they had. All the perks of being rich. The kind of rich that goes to fancy balls and buys friends trips to Paris at the spur of the moment, which doesn't sit well with Betty. "Dan, that's my manicure day," she says, getting nervous laughter from her friends, but pissed as hell that wasn't told. "You act like royalty or something. It's irritating as hell," she snaps. Yeah, trips to Paris are so awful!
Betty has to take over Boy Scout duties from Dan, who is on the phone with a call for ages. She tells the kids a scary ghost story that seems a bit too real. Yup, nine minutes in and she's losing it. And Dan has to sleep on the couch because of it.
At a St. Patrick's Day office party, Dan notices the new receptionist and Betty notices him noticing. That is immediately followed by a scene of Betty staring into the mirror without make-up, looking particularly haggard. Hey, at least the movie is efficient! On a ski trip, the husband and wife carp at each other, but Betty gets all the better jabs. Her children even mouth the argument along with them because it's become so routine.
The family is forced to move into a rental as their house is under construction, and Betty seems happy enough to manage that, but Dan has hired Linda to be his personal secretary (Michelle Johnson).
Betty shows up at Dan's office, decked out in a red suit, black and white shoes, champagne and glasses, only to be told by the secretary that Dan and Linda are out. "It's his birthday," she chirps. Betty shoots her a withering glance and then goes into his office to find it done up for a big birthday celebration. When he comes home in his little red sportscar, Betty at first plays it cool. For a minute. "Who goes to lunch for seven hours...and with a 19-year old whore to boot," she rails. And from there it's an attack, out on the street no less.
Then comes the moment where Meredith tears into the role, unhinged and uncaring. Right there on the lawn, kids watching, she burns all of his clothing, whispering "liar, liar, pants on fire." Dan jokes it off with his brother, concentrating on his golf game while his brother tries to tell him she's cukoo.
Loyal secretary Alice (Debra Jo Rupp) confronts Dan about Linda zooming up in the company, making more than poor Alice. Alice doesn't buy Dan's explanation and quits. She leaves him with a monologue about treating people better that is nice and succinct. Take a lesson, Betts. She doesn't. For Christmas, Dan buys Betty a gorgeous piece of jewelry, not the one she wanted, one he liked better. "You like it better?...It's not the one I asked for, so it's a piece of crap!" she howls and stalks off.
Dan invites Betty to a formal lunch, where she immediately launches into him. She can't understand why they have to meet somewhere, but she doesn't know he's about to leave her. He says he's moving out, which comes as a complete shock to self-absorbed Betty, as wide-eyed as Manson and as sarcastic as Wolocott. You see, she believes SHE is the key to their success. She wants him to stay, "because you owe me." She stalks off, telling him he's selfish. She has a point. He's not perfect, that's for sure.
Then it gets bad! She drops off one of the kids at his house when he's not even there. She did it on purpose, to make him realize what it's like to raise kids. Step two in her plan is to buy a brand new house. "Ultimately, what turns him on is status," she says, and bi-polar Betty thinks she's going to win him back. Those two steps don't exactly make any sense, to us at least.
Betty pays a surprise visit to Dan's house whenhe's not there, telling the kids he's a lousy parent and then cuts up his bedroom before leaving, smearing it with the cake Linda made. That's the final straw. She gets served with divorce papers.
With a shaky cam, meaning lunacy, Betty tears over to Dan's house, screaming from the outside before breaking in. And taking out her frustration on the house with a bottle of spray and a holy hell temper. This earns her a restraining order, but that doesn't penetrate Betty's mind. "All I want to know is if we can nail this guy in court," she bellows to her lawyer, who isn't "excited" enough for Betty. Cancel that lawyer!
Betty refuses to sell the house for the money Dan agrees to. Dan has a legal maneuver ready to combat it. He's a little on edge, telling his daughter not to come home from a date because she's pissed at having to spend a holiday with his new girlfriend (finally, he's doing Linda). Betty has a new man and can't find a lawyer because word is out that she's crazy and that he's a famous lawyer. So, she leaves a message on his machine full of ire. "You think you can just ignore me? You can't? I will not be ignored!"
When Betty finds out he sold the house, she's furious, violating the restraining order and showing up at his house in gold flats. Even the kids are scared this time. The wrath of Betty is fully unleashed. She drives her gigantic van into the house. Over and over and over again. Dan and Betty fight on the lawn until the police arrive and she's arrested, scratching and clawing about the power men have over women. Oh, it's a corker, and Meredith mines every last drop of venom out of it.
Just so we have SOME sympathy for Betty, she's given a tearful speech in prison. It doesn't work. That is not Meredith's forte. Keep the kiddies away when Betty's Christmas lights don't work. She goes over to Dan's and breaks in. When her daughter comes in unexpectedly, she asks, "is there anything under this tree for me?" and then goes on a tear through the presents, breaking one and injuring her daughter. "I'm sorry. I just love you all so much." Uh huh.
Betty is no less together in court. She can't keep her mouth shut, snapping at the judge that she has no rights in "Mother Russia." She feels that he controls the whole law system and she loses. Loses all custody, all visitation rights.
Working at an art gallery, Betty phones a friend to take her out, but it seems all of their friends have taken Dan's side. She leaves more nasty messages attacking the girlfriend, but the little son hears the expletive-fed message and tells her to knock it off. Even he's ashamed for her. She calls him a traitor. "Who put you up to this? The slut or the traitor?" she's yelling as he drops the phone. Worst for her is that Linda has slipped very comfortably into her life, even going to the costume parties they used to go to (the first scene is repeated, but with Linda, but this time everyone is happy). Betty tells the kids that when Dan and Linda are married, he will disown them and forget about them. She's not above using the kids as pawns. Dan tells the kids in the next scene that he's hoping his new marriage brings everyone stability.
Not likely, since Betty hotfoots it off to buy a gun, which she takes to very easily. In one of her Japanese night outfits that she loves so much, with the gold shoes, she leaves him umpteen messages until he finally picks up. Dan decides to make her pay, taking money away from the alimony every time she curses, comes over or takes the kids. That leaves her about $15K in the hole after one month. Betty ruins the daughter's graduation by following Linda around with her camera like a cracked paparazzo.
Betty steals Dan and Linda's wedding list, which sends them back to court. She fully admits that she stole it, but doesn't have it. So, the judge takes away her alimony. A suddenly stupid Linda breaks into Betty's house to get the list back and finds Betty is obsessed with her, even making up Christmas cards that have pictures of her and Linda, saying "Don't we look alike?" Betty has penned an autobiography, which Linda brings to Dan, still too gooey to do anything about it. He doesn't want Linda ruining her "credibility" by having proven she's broken into Betty's house. Betty still has the list, calling everyone on it and begging them not to go.
Dan and Linda have to have security guards at their wedding and Dan's brother wants him to wear a bullet-proof vest under his tuxedo! Everyone in town has Betty's number. The costume designer of this movie fails us once again as Linda is given the ugliest wedding dress (with a bandana no less). Luckily, they make it through the wedding day without incident, "guarded" by a friend, though she does say that it was the worst day of her life. That one? The day she rammed the car through the house was less bad?
Betty's best friend (her only friend) tries to get her to move on in an impassioned speech ("you're cultured, you're funnier than any two comedians I know"--boy, that's heavy praise), but she's rewarded with a tantrum and exits. Following are zigzagging scenes of Dan's happiness and Betty's misery. We get it.
In a funk (maybe for sympathy?), she heads on over to Dan's in the middle of the night, sneaks in quietly and mows them down. She didn't seem to want to do it until Linda opened her eyes, and then she had to fire the whole gun. Dan, still alive, reaches for the gun, but she grabs it from him and leaves. As the sun rises, she makes a call and admits it. In prison, she says she intended to kill herself in front of them. "I have regrets, but no remorse. I regret that my husband had no character, that my kids lost their mother and stability," she reports, "happy to be locked up in this dark little world where no one can get me." She will be eligible for parole in 2010.
So ends the first part. "Her Final Fury" actually shows us the killing again, picking up with her phone call to daughter Kate (Kelli Williams) confessing. The kids are a mess when friends come to tell them, but Kate tries to calm her down. Get this, as they do it, she apologizes to them. "I hope you didn't have anything special planned." Um? What? Didn't she just murder their father? Hell, the one even cradles her as she vomits in the toilet. Betty snaps to and has the presence of mind to write up a will and check for $10K to divide among the kids. She even takes off her jewelry. This is an awfully calm woman, a woman who has apprently had time to do her hair. Then it's off to jail, where she looks comfy in a sweatsuit, not at all scared.
Kerry Wells (Judith Ivey) is the District Attorney assigned to the case, told by her boss it's a clear cut case, "now you have to prove it." What's to prove? Betty's defense is that Dan took everything from her, that she couldn't get a fair shake from the whole town's legal system. Sorry? Not at all. Now we have Meredith the calm-about-to-let-loose nutball. She loved her rage throughout the first movie, but now we have a new Betty. However, Kerry's job isn't so clear-cut because Betty is seen as a victim by women's groups and has some sympathy building in her favor.
One of Betty's sons asks Kerry "will my mom be out in time to see my soccer game?" That pretty much shuts down her attempt to question them. Maybe her kids are as out of touch as she is! On her side, Betty has had to fire "one incompetent lawyer" she threatens her second one. They go to a bail hearing, where the judge wisely denies Betty bail. "I'd rather have her be my lawyer," Betty snarls at her lawyer, referring to Kerry.
Betty takes to the press, hiring a PR firm to defend her reputation. "When did you last see your children?" a reporter asks her. "Just before I checked in here," she chirps, as if he's having voluntary plastic surgery. We get Meredith-in-a-haze Betty again as she tells the stories, but boy does she tell her story, over and over and over, on any phone she can find in prison. She feels no lawyer can defend her, so she files to defend herself, not a bad plea for sympathy, but eventually she gets a darn good lawyer.
Talking to the prison shrink, she is asked bluntly if she sees the implications of her acts, and she doesn't see it at all. She is only the victim. Her friend comes to prison to tell her she's the topic at every party, at the hairdresser, in the checkout line. "It's be nice to your ex-wife week," she even jokes. Betty is thrilled! She gets mail from all over the world, women cheering her on. Prison seems downright fun. She won't put on a wristband because everyone knows who she is, she's so popular. "I don't need a wristband, I need a secretary." Oh, our Meredith is flipping her lid again, just in a different direction. No matter which kind of crazy Meredith goes, she's oh-so-lovable!
One of the kids tries to yank the movie away from his on-screen mother by blaming himself and crying for Kerry. That will not be allowed for long! It's back to Betty and her friend, discussing which outfit she'll wear. "Maybe being dressed as a human being again will make me feel like one again," she says before it's time to go back to her cell. On the prison bus to court, she alone is dressed in designer apparel, her hair done, jewels in place. Everyone else looks like...well, a prisoner.
What actress doesn't dream of a trial scene? Both here, because Judith Ivey is going to work her considerably talent raw trying to win the day from our Meredith. Betty's lawyer gets at least some of the women on the jury to sympathize early on with some corny theatrics. But Judith comes back with Betty's old friends who portray her as materialistic and vain. Back and forth the witnesses go, pro-Betty, anti-Betty. Daughter Kate gives some pretty damning evidence about how Betty stole her keys to Dan's house and pretended to help her look for them all over the place.
When it's Betty's turn to take the stand, she's rational and has an excuse for every check ever written. She's not a spendthrift, she's just supporting a family. Even when Kerry brings up the vandalization, Betty is calm. For her defense, she claims that he was verbally abusive, that she didn't please him, that she was fat, boring, etc. "I tried to get rid of wrinkles that weren't even there," she bawls, pulling out all the sympathy acting, and they are buying it! But, talking to her lawyer, she's full of anger at the prison system. Still the victim, she's angry at the jury for taking so long! As if Kerry isn't clear on the case, she has a poster on the wall, a picture of a casket that says, "He beat her 150 times and she only got flowers once." Ouch!
The jury is deadlocked (and a male is the holdout, telling the press "I don't know what took her so long"). The judge has to declare a mistrial and we have to go through it again. Betty is overjoyed; Judith, not so much, though she decides to work the second trial.
Back in prison, Betty has a showdown with the guard who has wanted her to wear a wristband. Go, Meredith, back to crackpot Betty, the screaming harpy! We missed you!
Meet Natalie Parker, she's the reporter who wants to celebrate Betty in the press. As her friend tells Natalie, "maybe the next Dan Broderick will think twice." Then Betty gets to spew her famous tirade again, about how the legal system did her wrong, the bifurcation order ("where the man gets to screw his wife and her girlfriend at the same time") and her other favorite topics. She's mighty proud of herself.
Steel yourself. Betty has a fight with a fellow prisoner (actually, the other woman causes it). When the guards come for Betty, she refuses to go and it takes a small army of them to pull her out, with one officer recording it for posterity. First a trial, then a prison fight scene? Is there nothing our Meredith can't handle channeling Betty? The footage makes it to TV (where of course, her kids see it).
Now the problem is what Kate should do, testify against her mother, who has threatened to kill her, or skulk away? She gets on the stand and has sudden amnesia about her previous testimony and this isn't good for mom. Kelli goes all cry-cry-cry on the stand, but she's out of her league. No one can trump our Meredith, and Judith has stopped trying, merely doing journeyman work to get it over with. A shrink diagnoses Betty with narcissistic personality disorder. Wait, that took nearly two movies? We knew that from the third or fourth scene all the way back in the first movie. The doctor also says she's never been suicidal, only homicidal.
After Betty is refused a trip to the infirmary to touch up her roots, she gets to testify again. She's just as ornery as ever, but Kerry is smarter this time, doing her best to rile Betty, rather than let her hold the cards. Judith gets back in fighting form, but still holds back a bit. This really could be a grudge match, but hey, it's Meredith's movie. Kerry picks apart all of the differences in testimony, debunking Betty's suicide theory. Betty gets so confused that it's all over for her in a few moments. Don't get me wrong, Betty doesn't cower. She keeps saying "it was my impression," rather than admitting what happened, but Kerry is too smart for that and tears apart the testimony. After Kerry crushes her, she asks, "why didn't you kill yourself?" "There were no bullets left!!!!!" Betty rails, making it oh so much worse for herself. Her own testimony damns her to a guilty verdict.
Meredith Baxter has had a long and distinguised career, both before 1992 and after 1992, but I'm afraid she will always be Betty Broderick. I say "afraid," becuase I actually fear she BECAME Betty and every performance since (anyone see the remake of "Murder on the Orient Express"?) has had some Betty in it. Perhaps when Betty is released from prison, there will be a third story, and we can dig up Meredith to make it work. I can only hope.
It's a true story, that of Betty Broderick, a woman who killed her husband after he left her for another woman. I don't know Betty Broderick personally so I can't speak of her personality, but somewhere very soon into the movie, it stops being about Betty and starts being about Meredith Baxter's performance. Good? Not really. Insanely watchable? You bet! Meredith goes over the top and then more in her grab for role of a lifetime. The goes so far that one actually sympathizes with the dead characters for not having to deal with her anymore. In saying that, I'm not worried that should Betty Broderick ever be released from prison she'll come after me, but I am worried that Meredith Baxter might hunt me down if I weren't so absolutely sure she's damn proud of her work here. She's having a whale of a time as Betty Broderick!
Things start out as perfectly as possible. Betty is a soccer mom, literally, with shoulder pads and mom jeans, cheering on her kid as he scores the winning goal. Hubby Dan (Steven Collins, always dying in a miniseries) is a successful and they were "euphoric" with all the money they had. All the perks of being rich. The kind of rich that goes to fancy balls and buys friends trips to Paris at the spur of the moment, which doesn't sit well with Betty. "Dan, that's my manicure day," she says, getting nervous laughter from her friends, but pissed as hell that wasn't told. "You act like royalty or something. It's irritating as hell," she snaps. Yeah, trips to Paris are so awful!
Betty has to take over Boy Scout duties from Dan, who is on the phone with a call for ages. She tells the kids a scary ghost story that seems a bit too real. Yup, nine minutes in and she's losing it. And Dan has to sleep on the couch because of it.
At a St. Patrick's Day office party, Dan notices the new receptionist and Betty notices him noticing. That is immediately followed by a scene of Betty staring into the mirror without make-up, looking particularly haggard. Hey, at least the movie is efficient! On a ski trip, the husband and wife carp at each other, but Betty gets all the better jabs. Her children even mouth the argument along with them because it's become so routine.
The family is forced to move into a rental as their house is under construction, and Betty seems happy enough to manage that, but Dan has hired Linda to be his personal secretary (Michelle Johnson).
Betty shows up at Dan's office, decked out in a red suit, black and white shoes, champagne and glasses, only to be told by the secretary that Dan and Linda are out. "It's his birthday," she chirps. Betty shoots her a withering glance and then goes into his office to find it done up for a big birthday celebration. When he comes home in his little red sportscar, Betty at first plays it cool. For a minute. "Who goes to lunch for seven hours...and with a 19-year old whore to boot," she rails. And from there it's an attack, out on the street no less.
Then comes the moment where Meredith tears into the role, unhinged and uncaring. Right there on the lawn, kids watching, she burns all of his clothing, whispering "liar, liar, pants on fire." Dan jokes it off with his brother, concentrating on his golf game while his brother tries to tell him she's cukoo.
Loyal secretary Alice (Debra Jo Rupp) confronts Dan about Linda zooming up in the company, making more than poor Alice. Alice doesn't buy Dan's explanation and quits. She leaves him with a monologue about treating people better that is nice and succinct. Take a lesson, Betts. She doesn't. For Christmas, Dan buys Betty a gorgeous piece of jewelry, not the one she wanted, one he liked better. "You like it better?...It's not the one I asked for, so it's a piece of crap!" she howls and stalks off.
Dan invites Betty to a formal lunch, where she immediately launches into him. She can't understand why they have to meet somewhere, but she doesn't know he's about to leave her. He says he's moving out, which comes as a complete shock to self-absorbed Betty, as wide-eyed as Manson and as sarcastic as Wolocott. You see, she believes SHE is the key to their success. She wants him to stay, "because you owe me." She stalks off, telling him he's selfish. She has a point. He's not perfect, that's for sure.
Then it gets bad! She drops off one of the kids at his house when he's not even there. She did it on purpose, to make him realize what it's like to raise kids. Step two in her plan is to buy a brand new house. "Ultimately, what turns him on is status," she says, and bi-polar Betty thinks she's going to win him back. Those two steps don't exactly make any sense, to us at least.
Betty pays a surprise visit to Dan's house whenhe's not there, telling the kids he's a lousy parent and then cuts up his bedroom before leaving, smearing it with the cake Linda made. That's the final straw. She gets served with divorce papers.
With a shaky cam, meaning lunacy, Betty tears over to Dan's house, screaming from the outside before breaking in. And taking out her frustration on the house with a bottle of spray and a holy hell temper. This earns her a restraining order, but that doesn't penetrate Betty's mind. "All I want to know is if we can nail this guy in court," she bellows to her lawyer, who isn't "excited" enough for Betty. Cancel that lawyer!
Betty refuses to sell the house for the money Dan agrees to. Dan has a legal maneuver ready to combat it. He's a little on edge, telling his daughter not to come home from a date because she's pissed at having to spend a holiday with his new girlfriend (finally, he's doing Linda). Betty has a new man and can't find a lawyer because word is out that she's crazy and that he's a famous lawyer. So, she leaves a message on his machine full of ire. "You think you can just ignore me? You can't? I will not be ignored!"
When Betty finds out he sold the house, she's furious, violating the restraining order and showing up at his house in gold flats. Even the kids are scared this time. The wrath of Betty is fully unleashed. She drives her gigantic van into the house. Over and over and over again. Dan and Betty fight on the lawn until the police arrive and she's arrested, scratching and clawing about the power men have over women. Oh, it's a corker, and Meredith mines every last drop of venom out of it.
Just so we have SOME sympathy for Betty, she's given a tearful speech in prison. It doesn't work. That is not Meredith's forte. Keep the kiddies away when Betty's Christmas lights don't work. She goes over to Dan's and breaks in. When her daughter comes in unexpectedly, she asks, "is there anything under this tree for me?" and then goes on a tear through the presents, breaking one and injuring her daughter. "I'm sorry. I just love you all so much." Uh huh.
Betty is no less together in court. She can't keep her mouth shut, snapping at the judge that she has no rights in "Mother Russia." She feels that he controls the whole law system and she loses. Loses all custody, all visitation rights.
Working at an art gallery, Betty phones a friend to take her out, but it seems all of their friends have taken Dan's side. She leaves more nasty messages attacking the girlfriend, but the little son hears the expletive-fed message and tells her to knock it off. Even he's ashamed for her. She calls him a traitor. "Who put you up to this? The slut or the traitor?" she's yelling as he drops the phone. Worst for her is that Linda has slipped very comfortably into her life, even going to the costume parties they used to go to (the first scene is repeated, but with Linda, but this time everyone is happy). Betty tells the kids that when Dan and Linda are married, he will disown them and forget about them. She's not above using the kids as pawns. Dan tells the kids in the next scene that he's hoping his new marriage brings everyone stability.
Not likely, since Betty hotfoots it off to buy a gun, which she takes to very easily. In one of her Japanese night outfits that she loves so much, with the gold shoes, she leaves him umpteen messages until he finally picks up. Dan decides to make her pay, taking money away from the alimony every time she curses, comes over or takes the kids. That leaves her about $15K in the hole after one month. Betty ruins the daughter's graduation by following Linda around with her camera like a cracked paparazzo.
Betty steals Dan and Linda's wedding list, which sends them back to court. She fully admits that she stole it, but doesn't have it. So, the judge takes away her alimony. A suddenly stupid Linda breaks into Betty's house to get the list back and finds Betty is obsessed with her, even making up Christmas cards that have pictures of her and Linda, saying "Don't we look alike?" Betty has penned an autobiography, which Linda brings to Dan, still too gooey to do anything about it. He doesn't want Linda ruining her "credibility" by having proven she's broken into Betty's house. Betty still has the list, calling everyone on it and begging them not to go.
Dan and Linda have to have security guards at their wedding and Dan's brother wants him to wear a bullet-proof vest under his tuxedo! Everyone in town has Betty's number. The costume designer of this movie fails us once again as Linda is given the ugliest wedding dress (with a bandana no less). Luckily, they make it through the wedding day without incident, "guarded" by a friend, though she does say that it was the worst day of her life. That one? The day she rammed the car through the house was less bad?
Betty's best friend (her only friend) tries to get her to move on in an impassioned speech ("you're cultured, you're funnier than any two comedians I know"--boy, that's heavy praise), but she's rewarded with a tantrum and exits. Following are zigzagging scenes of Dan's happiness and Betty's misery. We get it.
In a funk (maybe for sympathy?), she heads on over to Dan's in the middle of the night, sneaks in quietly and mows them down. She didn't seem to want to do it until Linda opened her eyes, and then she had to fire the whole gun. Dan, still alive, reaches for the gun, but she grabs it from him and leaves. As the sun rises, she makes a call and admits it. In prison, she says she intended to kill herself in front of them. "I have regrets, but no remorse. I regret that my husband had no character, that my kids lost their mother and stability," she reports, "happy to be locked up in this dark little world where no one can get me." She will be eligible for parole in 2010.
So ends the first part. "Her Final Fury" actually shows us the killing again, picking up with her phone call to daughter Kate (Kelli Williams) confessing. The kids are a mess when friends come to tell them, but Kate tries to calm her down. Get this, as they do it, she apologizes to them. "I hope you didn't have anything special planned." Um? What? Didn't she just murder their father? Hell, the one even cradles her as she vomits in the toilet. Betty snaps to and has the presence of mind to write up a will and check for $10K to divide among the kids. She even takes off her jewelry. This is an awfully calm woman, a woman who has apprently had time to do her hair. Then it's off to jail, where she looks comfy in a sweatsuit, not at all scared.
Kerry Wells (Judith Ivey) is the District Attorney assigned to the case, told by her boss it's a clear cut case, "now you have to prove it." What's to prove? Betty's defense is that Dan took everything from her, that she couldn't get a fair shake from the whole town's legal system. Sorry? Not at all. Now we have Meredith the calm-about-to-let-loose nutball. She loved her rage throughout the first movie, but now we have a new Betty. However, Kerry's job isn't so clear-cut because Betty is seen as a victim by women's groups and has some sympathy building in her favor.
One of Betty's sons asks Kerry "will my mom be out in time to see my soccer game?" That pretty much shuts down her attempt to question them. Maybe her kids are as out of touch as she is! On her side, Betty has had to fire "one incompetent lawyer" she threatens her second one. They go to a bail hearing, where the judge wisely denies Betty bail. "I'd rather have her be my lawyer," Betty snarls at her lawyer, referring to Kerry.
Betty takes to the press, hiring a PR firm to defend her reputation. "When did you last see your children?" a reporter asks her. "Just before I checked in here," she chirps, as if he's having voluntary plastic surgery. We get Meredith-in-a-haze Betty again as she tells the stories, but boy does she tell her story, over and over and over, on any phone she can find in prison. She feels no lawyer can defend her, so she files to defend herself, not a bad plea for sympathy, but eventually she gets a darn good lawyer.
Talking to the prison shrink, she is asked bluntly if she sees the implications of her acts, and she doesn't see it at all. She is only the victim. Her friend comes to prison to tell her she's the topic at every party, at the hairdresser, in the checkout line. "It's be nice to your ex-wife week," she even jokes. Betty is thrilled! She gets mail from all over the world, women cheering her on. Prison seems downright fun. She won't put on a wristband because everyone knows who she is, she's so popular. "I don't need a wristband, I need a secretary." Oh, our Meredith is flipping her lid again, just in a different direction. No matter which kind of crazy Meredith goes, she's oh-so-lovable!
One of the kids tries to yank the movie away from his on-screen mother by blaming himself and crying for Kerry. That will not be allowed for long! It's back to Betty and her friend, discussing which outfit she'll wear. "Maybe being dressed as a human being again will make me feel like one again," she says before it's time to go back to her cell. On the prison bus to court, she alone is dressed in designer apparel, her hair done, jewels in place. Everyone else looks like...well, a prisoner.
What actress doesn't dream of a trial scene? Both here, because Judith Ivey is going to work her considerably talent raw trying to win the day from our Meredith. Betty's lawyer gets at least some of the women on the jury to sympathize early on with some corny theatrics. But Judith comes back with Betty's old friends who portray her as materialistic and vain. Back and forth the witnesses go, pro-Betty, anti-Betty. Daughter Kate gives some pretty damning evidence about how Betty stole her keys to Dan's house and pretended to help her look for them all over the place.
When it's Betty's turn to take the stand, she's rational and has an excuse for every check ever written. She's not a spendthrift, she's just supporting a family. Even when Kerry brings up the vandalization, Betty is calm. For her defense, she claims that he was verbally abusive, that she didn't please him, that she was fat, boring, etc. "I tried to get rid of wrinkles that weren't even there," she bawls, pulling out all the sympathy acting, and they are buying it! But, talking to her lawyer, she's full of anger at the prison system. Still the victim, she's angry at the jury for taking so long! As if Kerry isn't clear on the case, she has a poster on the wall, a picture of a casket that says, "He beat her 150 times and she only got flowers once." Ouch!
The jury is deadlocked (and a male is the holdout, telling the press "I don't know what took her so long"). The judge has to declare a mistrial and we have to go through it again. Betty is overjoyed; Judith, not so much, though she decides to work the second trial.
Back in prison, Betty has a showdown with the guard who has wanted her to wear a wristband. Go, Meredith, back to crackpot Betty, the screaming harpy! We missed you!
Meet Natalie Parker, she's the reporter who wants to celebrate Betty in the press. As her friend tells Natalie, "maybe the next Dan Broderick will think twice." Then Betty gets to spew her famous tirade again, about how the legal system did her wrong, the bifurcation order ("where the man gets to screw his wife and her girlfriend at the same time") and her other favorite topics. She's mighty proud of herself.
Steel yourself. Betty has a fight with a fellow prisoner (actually, the other woman causes it). When the guards come for Betty, she refuses to go and it takes a small army of them to pull her out, with one officer recording it for posterity. First a trial, then a prison fight scene? Is there nothing our Meredith can't handle channeling Betty? The footage makes it to TV (where of course, her kids see it).
Now the problem is what Kate should do, testify against her mother, who has threatened to kill her, or skulk away? She gets on the stand and has sudden amnesia about her previous testimony and this isn't good for mom. Kelli goes all cry-cry-cry on the stand, but she's out of her league. No one can trump our Meredith, and Judith has stopped trying, merely doing journeyman work to get it over with. A shrink diagnoses Betty with narcissistic personality disorder. Wait, that took nearly two movies? We knew that from the third or fourth scene all the way back in the first movie. The doctor also says she's never been suicidal, only homicidal.
After Betty is refused a trip to the infirmary to touch up her roots, she gets to testify again. She's just as ornery as ever, but Kerry is smarter this time, doing her best to rile Betty, rather than let her hold the cards. Judith gets back in fighting form, but still holds back a bit. This really could be a grudge match, but hey, it's Meredith's movie. Kerry picks apart all of the differences in testimony, debunking Betty's suicide theory. Betty gets so confused that it's all over for her in a few moments. Don't get me wrong, Betty doesn't cower. She keeps saying "it was my impression," rather than admitting what happened, but Kerry is too smart for that and tears apart the testimony. After Kerry crushes her, she asks, "why didn't you kill yourself?" "There were no bullets left!!!!!" Betty rails, making it oh so much worse for herself. Her own testimony damns her to a guilty verdict.
Meredith Baxter has had a long and distinguised career, both before 1992 and after 1992, but I'm afraid she will always be Betty Broderick. I say "afraid," becuase I actually fear she BECAME Betty and every performance since (anyone see the remake of "Murder on the Orient Express"?) has had some Betty in it. Perhaps when Betty is released from prison, there will be a third story, and we can dig up Meredith to make it work. I can only hope.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Ivanhoe (1982)
When all else fails, raid the classics! "Ivanhoe," by Sir Walter Scott, has been filmed more than a few times before 1982, but the 1970s and 1980s found a flourishing trade in filmed classics, particularly a slew of Dumas films that all seemed to star Richard Chamberlain. Since "Ivanhoe" is chock-filled with adventure and romance, it's not a bad idea for another remake. If nothing else, you don't have to pay Clavell, you don't have to pay Judith Krantz. Hell, you don't even have to pay Jackie Collins. Sir Walter Scott is as cheap as the Bible and he can't object to any changes. So, we're faced with a rather cheap-looking production, but it's diverting enough. Not a classic, but kind of fun.
The tone is set from the narration. "You are about to see a tale of story of bold nights and beautiful maidens. A story of love and hatred and prejudice. Thought our story is old, the love, the hatred and the prejudice are ever new." Okay, I'm already worried. Are we trying to make "Ivanhoe" relevant to 1982? Love and hate are certainly eternal, but there are very few prejudices that straddled England in 1194 and the United States in 1982. Well, let's see how they manage this!
It starts with James Mason as Isaac of York riding through the thick woods of England that are as omnipresent in film as Anthony Andrews and John Rhys-Davies are to the miniseries, so guess who's about to show up? Isaac is pulled off his horse by hooded Anthony Andrews as Ivanhoe. Wilfred is actually helping Isaac, because the Knights headed by Front de Boeuf (John Rhys-Davies) are lurking about looking for Jewish Isaac (ah, okay, I see a prejudice in common, but James does it no favors by invoking a Jewish cadence that pegs him as...well...as James Mason after a vaction in Poland circa 1927).
Isaac repays Wilfred by giving him the horse and lance he needs to participate in a nearby fair. Front de Boeuf is already there, looking villainous, as is Brian de Bois-Guilbert (Sam Neill), praying and De Bracy (Stuart Wilson). Watching the tournament: Cedric (Michael Hordern), Prince John (Ronald Pickup), Rebecca (Olivia Hussey) and Lady Rowena (Lysette Anthony), the pretty blonde Saxon, which doesn't sound so pretty when Isaac spits out the words scornfully. The rules are read, much ado is made about choosing a lady for the joust and then we're off. So far, so good. Twelve minutes in and we have some action. Jousts are always exciting, and mercifully short. When Ivanhoe makes his appearance, his daddy Cedric refuses to get worked up since he's disowned him. It's equally bad news for the three winners so far because Ivanhoe is a native Saxon against the three Normans. He knocks Front de Boeuf to the ground. The other two go down also and Ivanhoe is the winner, allowed to pick the fair's queen, Lady Rowena, looking so dewy it's impossible.
The decision is also much to the chagrin of poor Rebecca (hey, in her career, Olivia got Romeo and God's seed, so she did okay in the end). She whines to her father, Isaac, that not all Christians are bad, and then in comes Ivanhoe to repay the debt to her father. Isaac refuses all money since Ivanhoe saved his life. He still has no eyes for Rebecca. Ditsy Rowena did not realize Ivanhoe under his helmet at the joust as her true love, even though her father has promised to Athelstone (Michael Gothard). Rowena's fool Wamba (George Innes) speaks in riddles that go over her head, trying to help her figure it out.
Day Two of the fair. Now the guys get to do hand-to-hand combat (though knives are not allowed). Ivanhoe wins this too and though injured, finally reveals himself to Rowena, who presents him that day's crown honor. He promptly passes out, though it may be from the terrible acting of Lady Rowena, and no one will help him. Not his father, who abjectly refuses. Rebecca begs Isaac to help, but he wants no parts of a Christian, but he relents. As for the knights who lost, they are worried that the return of Ivanhoe means King Richard isn't far behind, on his way back from the Crusades, which means Prince John and the rest of them are out of business (indeed, he is lurking not far away).
Rebecca nurses Ivanhoe back to life, using herbs "passed down from the days of Solomon." They are leaving and want to take Ivanhoe with them, but he refuses. Not because they are Jews, as Rebecca wonders, but because he doesn't want to "inconvenience" them. Geez, our hero is just too damn good, isn't he?
At the banquet, Prince John tries to toast to Cedric's son Ivanhoe, but Cedric refuses. He want his married his ward Rowena to Athelstone, a drunkard. He further sticks his foot in dog doo by toasting King Richard, the only Norman he'll drink to, Saxon he is to the core. Isaac and Rebecca have taken Ivanhoe to York and Prince John finds out King Richard is back in England, so he and his evil knights are off to York as well.
Isaac and Rebecca's caravan is stopped when their men desert them, fearing forest bandits, and take all the horses. Ivanhoe is barely coherent, so things are not looking good for this bedraggled threesome. Isaac then nags God for heaping this horror upon them, nailing in more annoying behavior. Who should happen upon them? Cedric and Rowena, of course! Cedric refuses to deal with Jews, but Rebecca makes an impassioned plea for the patient, whom she says is an old person who cannot make it otherwise. Rowena steps in and begs Cedric, who finally agrees. "So be it. They travel in the rear," he says.
The Norman knights overtake the party, with De Bracy promised Rowena. Brian gets all lovesick for Rebecca, despite her being an "infidel," and still no one bothers to look under the cover of the sick bed, believing it to be the old lady Rebecca says it is. So, the Saxons and the Jews are taken to Front de Boeuf's castle where De Bracy finally looks under the cover, but allows them in anyway. I guess it's better to keep one's enemies close.
Wampa has managed to escape being taken prisoner and he's found by King Richard, who now knows where everyone is, but unfortunately he's soon captured himself...by Robin Hood (David Robb) and his band of merry men! Friar Tuck (Tony Haygarth) is drunk in a fun way. They agree to help set the captives free.
Cedric sputters in captivity, unable to chew the scenery only because it's supposed to be stone, Athlestone wants a drink and Rowena plays the tough dame (though not very well) to De Bracy. De Bracy isn't such a bad catch. Sure, he has bad taste in friends (especially Front de Boeuf, as done by John Rhys-Davies with his usual too-big-for-television bluster) and he threatens her with Ivanhoe's life, but he seems the least noxious of the Normans. "The fate of all depends on your decision," De Bracy tells Rowena, who, let's face it, isn't smart enough to get out of this blackmail plot.
Brian still wants Rebecca, but not to marry her. "Not if you were the Queen of Sheba!" No, no. He only wants to have sex with her, but she threatens to spread the word that a Knight Templar has had his way with a Jewess. He offers to make her his mistress, which she reacts to by almost jumping out the window. Brian agrees to a truce, at least temporarily.
In the battle of overacting, Front de Boeuf wants Isaac's money or else he'll torture him to death. Isaac doesn't have the money, so he tells Front de Boeuf to send Rebecca to go fetch the money, but Front de Boeuf that he's already "given her" to Brian. Isaac goes into an act that would make the worst Shylock groan, and Front de Boeuf orders grand torture to start. In the nick of time, a note arrives that is more important. "I will be back," Front de Boeuf huffs, meaning we can only hope for another scene as maddeningly wacky as this one. The letter is "in the Saxon hands" and it's a letter of defiance to the three knights. It demands the prisoners delivered to the letter writer in an hour, causing maniacal laughs from the villains, which are immediately quenched by the signature of Robin Hood. This frightens even Front de Boeuf, who blames Brian, though his and De Bracy's soldiers are the ones far off in York. The reply letter says they will simply kill the prisoners, unless a man of God is sent to them to hear confession. Friar Tuck refuses to go, so they dress up Wamba (who retains his fool's hat under his cowl).
We've been lacking our leading man for a long time, but he finally wakes up. He's weak, but he wants to help. Rebecca says they are locked in from the outside, but if he can just find out if Rowena is okay, that will do for now. He talks of how much he loves Rowena, asking her if she's ever loved like that. Of course she has, she loves him, but she says no. He digs the knife in deeper, by saying he can't understand how someone as wonderful as she is can be single. He forgets she's a Jewess? Her olive make-up doesn't remind him?
Mamba arrives as the friar, knowing only one Latin phrase, and finding it hard to drop his fool schtick. He reveals himself to Cedric, offering his clothes to Cedric so he can escape and Wamba will die in his place. Cedric wants Wamba to instead switch clothes with Athlestone, a prospect Wamba and Athlestone both refuse, so Cedric it is. Cedric gets to the door of the castle, almost to freedom, when Front de Boeuf stops him, but his disguise is not undone. Instead, Front de Boeuf gives him his plans! Idiotic Cedric can't resist revealing himself as he runs off, and no one bothers to chase him. Front de Boeuf is furious, but Athlestone is willing to make a deal. He'll help if he and the fool are freed...oh, and Rowena (so bland she slipped his mind the first time around). That turns out to be a sticking point, so it looks like we have a battle on our hands!
The battle is mainly a ballet of the howling extras, though King Richard does kill Front de Beouf. Ivanhoe watches from the window and wishes to be at Richard's side, but doesn't do anything to make it happen. Rebecca wonders why the English love to fight. Ivanhoe gives a rah-rah speech about glory and chivalry that almost has her hooked until his wound flares up again. Rebecca says she would only fight to get the Holy Land back. The Jews will have to wait in line for that since the Christians and Muslims are already fighting for it. But wait! This has an effect on Ivanhoe who lovingly kisses Rebecca and vows never to forget her. She's far more memorable than Rowena, but we know they won't end up together!
Robin and company make it through the door (there's not moat, a moat would have helped). De Bracy is pinned down by Richard and spares his life to get to Ivanhoe. Brian gets there first and abducts Rebecca. Everyone but Ivanhoe is fighting now, even Athlestone, though he's wounded. Ivanhoe is rescued by King Richard and whisked off to Robin's camp. Cedric can only think about where Athlestone is, and no one hears the whimpering man only feet away, under a downed pile of hay.
In camp, King Richard frees De Bracy, telling him to leave England under penalty of death. You see, he's a good king. He gets even more chaste by saying he's learned so much from watching the Saxons fight. And then AGAIN when he protects Isaac from Friar Tuck by punching him out in a bit of comedy. How much tolerance can we learn in ten minutes? Apparently enough to build a nation upon.
King Richard also decides to reconcile Ivanhoe and his father, which may be more complicated than fixing the Christian-Jewish problem or the Norman-Saxon problem.
Isaac and Friar Tuck go off to the palace of the Knights Templar, where they have just been discussing how Rebecca must have bewitched Brian. The Grand Master (Philip Locke) questions Isaac, insisting that Rebecca is a witch and has Brian under a spell. He feeds it by confessing that Rebecca is a "healer." The Grand Master takes that to mean sorcery, even though Isaac means nursing. Semantics are going to keep this plot going? The Grand Master, looking enough like a Klan member to bring that whole prejudice connection going between 1194 and 1982. Brian is told Rebecca must be burned, and now suddenly Brian wants her life saved. All he has to do is cast her off, which leads to Rebecca's trial in front of The Grand Master.
King Richard and Ivanhoe leave Robin Hood, but not revealing his identity, though Robin Hood has revealed his. Richard tells him he knew anyway. Obviously he's read the books, watched the movies, seen the shows. I mean, who the hell doesn't know Robin Hood? DUH! Our godly Richard notes to Ivanhoe that he cannot reveal himself until peace is brought to the kingdom, i.e. the Normans and Saxons film an "I'd like to teach the world to sing" Coca-Cola commercial holding hands.
Rebecca has a trial, but it's obviously rigged against her. If she does not come up with a champion quickly, she will be put to death. Anyone care to guess who will be her champion? Anyone who hasn't read the book, that is. \
At Cedric's palace, King Richard reveals himself and promises "equal protection" for Normans and Saxons (playing again on familiar wording) if he will forgive Ivanhoe. That was easy! We're racing to conclusion here, aren't we. However, Cedric refuses to give Rowena's hand to Ivanhoe until two years of mourning are completed.
Cue Athlestone, alive. He willingly pays homage to King Richard and gives Rowena gladly to Ivanhoe because he knows she's never loved him and he's never loved her. "I implore you, can we eat at last?" he says, having taken care of a whole lot of business in the matter of two minutes.
It's a busy palace, this one. Isaac shows up to ask Ivanhoe to champion his daughter and off he goes, though not before giving a chaste little kiss to Rowena, who has just been reunited with him. Damn you, Sir Walter Scott and your plotting! Damn you!
With butter doing anything but melting in her mouth, Rebecca is paid a visit by Brian, offering to save her and ride off to the Holy Land with her, but she refuses and he pretends he doesn't love her. Like she needs him? Ivanhoe is on his way.
Remember Prince John? He has no soldiers left and King Richard is fast approaching. Front de Boeuf is dead, Brian cannot help and De Bracy is sticking to his promise to King Richard to leave England. Even Prince John's most loyal vassal hies to the priesthood in fear.
Unless you have ever read an adventure or romance novel, you will know that as Rebecca is tied to a pole atop a pyre, she's not REALLY going to die. The Grand Master calls for her champion and no one comes forward. The Grand Master puts off the burning for an hour. Brian tries to get Rebecca to run away with him, she refuses, and then he begs her to renounce her faith. She refuses that too. It's going to be a looooooong hour atop that pyre. Well, not that long, because the hour passes literally in five seconds.
Ah, here comes Ivanhoe, riding in just as the fire was to be applied to the pyre (yes, a fire pyre, all of you Sondheim fans). Ivanhoe not only defends her, but denounces Brian and offers to fight him. Before these two cocks go off to fight, Rebecca must accept Ivanhoe as her champion. Like she's in a position to refuse him? Okay, now they can fight. Ivanhoe has bested Brian twice with a lance, so this isn't likely to be very full of suspense. Ivanhoe is knocked off his horse, which means combat with swords. The Grand Master as his fey but talkative assistant all but snort fire as they hope for Brian's success. At first, it seems to be going his way, because Ivanhoe is still weak. Robin Hood and his men are hiding behind the trees, willing to help, of course, but it's been decreed that no one may interfere with this fight. They don't have to. Brian looks at Rebecca and holds the gaze a bit too long, giving Ivanhoe the chance to run him through with a sword.
King Richard arrives in his kingly robes with Prince John in tow and banishes the Grand Master and the rest of the Knights Templar. Off they go. Robin Hood and Friar Tuck are a little ashamed they didn't realize who he was. Richard pronounces complete equality between Saxons and Normans, as he promised.
We need a wedding! Though Ivanhoe loves Rebecca, he loves Rowena more, so it's Rowena he marries. Rebecca goes to Rowena to say her goodbyes, since she and her father are going off to Spain to seek religious freedom. Wow, there's irony for you! The Inquisition never got even a foothold in England, but in Spain, it was a grand success for all but the Jews.
Off Rebecca and Isaac go, as Ivanhoe looks longingly. He has is bland blonde, he's not changing his mind.
The tone is set from the narration. "You are about to see a tale of story of bold nights and beautiful maidens. A story of love and hatred and prejudice. Thought our story is old, the love, the hatred and the prejudice are ever new." Okay, I'm already worried. Are we trying to make "Ivanhoe" relevant to 1982? Love and hate are certainly eternal, but there are very few prejudices that straddled England in 1194 and the United States in 1982. Well, let's see how they manage this!
It starts with James Mason as Isaac of York riding through the thick woods of England that are as omnipresent in film as Anthony Andrews and John Rhys-Davies are to the miniseries, so guess who's about to show up? Isaac is pulled off his horse by hooded Anthony Andrews as Ivanhoe. Wilfred is actually helping Isaac, because the Knights headed by Front de Boeuf (John Rhys-Davies) are lurking about looking for Jewish Isaac (ah, okay, I see a prejudice in common, but James does it no favors by invoking a Jewish cadence that pegs him as...well...as James Mason after a vaction in Poland circa 1927).
Isaac repays Wilfred by giving him the horse and lance he needs to participate in a nearby fair. Front de Boeuf is already there, looking villainous, as is Brian de Bois-Guilbert (Sam Neill), praying and De Bracy (Stuart Wilson). Watching the tournament: Cedric (Michael Hordern), Prince John (Ronald Pickup), Rebecca (Olivia Hussey) and Lady Rowena (Lysette Anthony), the pretty blonde Saxon, which doesn't sound so pretty when Isaac spits out the words scornfully. The rules are read, much ado is made about choosing a lady for the joust and then we're off. So far, so good. Twelve minutes in and we have some action. Jousts are always exciting, and mercifully short. When Ivanhoe makes his appearance, his daddy Cedric refuses to get worked up since he's disowned him. It's equally bad news for the three winners so far because Ivanhoe is a native Saxon against the three Normans. He knocks Front de Boeuf to the ground. The other two go down also and Ivanhoe is the winner, allowed to pick the fair's queen, Lady Rowena, looking so dewy it's impossible.
The decision is also much to the chagrin of poor Rebecca (hey, in her career, Olivia got Romeo and God's seed, so she did okay in the end). She whines to her father, Isaac, that not all Christians are bad, and then in comes Ivanhoe to repay the debt to her father. Isaac refuses all money since Ivanhoe saved his life. He still has no eyes for Rebecca. Ditsy Rowena did not realize Ivanhoe under his helmet at the joust as her true love, even though her father has promised to Athelstone (Michael Gothard). Rowena's fool Wamba (George Innes) speaks in riddles that go over her head, trying to help her figure it out.
Day Two of the fair. Now the guys get to do hand-to-hand combat (though knives are not allowed). Ivanhoe wins this too and though injured, finally reveals himself to Rowena, who presents him that day's crown honor. He promptly passes out, though it may be from the terrible acting of Lady Rowena, and no one will help him. Not his father, who abjectly refuses. Rebecca begs Isaac to help, but he wants no parts of a Christian, but he relents. As for the knights who lost, they are worried that the return of Ivanhoe means King Richard isn't far behind, on his way back from the Crusades, which means Prince John and the rest of them are out of business (indeed, he is lurking not far away).
Rebecca nurses Ivanhoe back to life, using herbs "passed down from the days of Solomon." They are leaving and want to take Ivanhoe with them, but he refuses. Not because they are Jews, as Rebecca wonders, but because he doesn't want to "inconvenience" them. Geez, our hero is just too damn good, isn't he?
At the banquet, Prince John tries to toast to Cedric's son Ivanhoe, but Cedric refuses. He want his married his ward Rowena to Athelstone, a drunkard. He further sticks his foot in dog doo by toasting King Richard, the only Norman he'll drink to, Saxon he is to the core. Isaac and Rebecca have taken Ivanhoe to York and Prince John finds out King Richard is back in England, so he and his evil knights are off to York as well.
Isaac and Rebecca's caravan is stopped when their men desert them, fearing forest bandits, and take all the horses. Ivanhoe is barely coherent, so things are not looking good for this bedraggled threesome. Isaac then nags God for heaping this horror upon them, nailing in more annoying behavior. Who should happen upon them? Cedric and Rowena, of course! Cedric refuses to deal with Jews, but Rebecca makes an impassioned plea for the patient, whom she says is an old person who cannot make it otherwise. Rowena steps in and begs Cedric, who finally agrees. "So be it. They travel in the rear," he says.
The Norman knights overtake the party, with De Bracy promised Rowena. Brian gets all lovesick for Rebecca, despite her being an "infidel," and still no one bothers to look under the cover of the sick bed, believing it to be the old lady Rebecca says it is. So, the Saxons and the Jews are taken to Front de Boeuf's castle where De Bracy finally looks under the cover, but allows them in anyway. I guess it's better to keep one's enemies close.
Wampa has managed to escape being taken prisoner and he's found by King Richard, who now knows where everyone is, but unfortunately he's soon captured himself...by Robin Hood (David Robb) and his band of merry men! Friar Tuck (Tony Haygarth) is drunk in a fun way. They agree to help set the captives free.
Cedric sputters in captivity, unable to chew the scenery only because it's supposed to be stone, Athlestone wants a drink and Rowena plays the tough dame (though not very well) to De Bracy. De Bracy isn't such a bad catch. Sure, he has bad taste in friends (especially Front de Boeuf, as done by John Rhys-Davies with his usual too-big-for-television bluster) and he threatens her with Ivanhoe's life, but he seems the least noxious of the Normans. "The fate of all depends on your decision," De Bracy tells Rowena, who, let's face it, isn't smart enough to get out of this blackmail plot.
Brian still wants Rebecca, but not to marry her. "Not if you were the Queen of Sheba!" No, no. He only wants to have sex with her, but she threatens to spread the word that a Knight Templar has had his way with a Jewess. He offers to make her his mistress, which she reacts to by almost jumping out the window. Brian agrees to a truce, at least temporarily.
In the battle of overacting, Front de Boeuf wants Isaac's money or else he'll torture him to death. Isaac doesn't have the money, so he tells Front de Boeuf to send Rebecca to go fetch the money, but Front de Boeuf that he's already "given her" to Brian. Isaac goes into an act that would make the worst Shylock groan, and Front de Boeuf orders grand torture to start. In the nick of time, a note arrives that is more important. "I will be back," Front de Boeuf huffs, meaning we can only hope for another scene as maddeningly wacky as this one. The letter is "in the Saxon hands" and it's a letter of defiance to the three knights. It demands the prisoners delivered to the letter writer in an hour, causing maniacal laughs from the villains, which are immediately quenched by the signature of Robin Hood. This frightens even Front de Boeuf, who blames Brian, though his and De Bracy's soldiers are the ones far off in York. The reply letter says they will simply kill the prisoners, unless a man of God is sent to them to hear confession. Friar Tuck refuses to go, so they dress up Wamba (who retains his fool's hat under his cowl).
We've been lacking our leading man for a long time, but he finally wakes up. He's weak, but he wants to help. Rebecca says they are locked in from the outside, but if he can just find out if Rowena is okay, that will do for now. He talks of how much he loves Rowena, asking her if she's ever loved like that. Of course she has, she loves him, but she says no. He digs the knife in deeper, by saying he can't understand how someone as wonderful as she is can be single. He forgets she's a Jewess? Her olive make-up doesn't remind him?
Mamba arrives as the friar, knowing only one Latin phrase, and finding it hard to drop his fool schtick. He reveals himself to Cedric, offering his clothes to Cedric so he can escape and Wamba will die in his place. Cedric wants Wamba to instead switch clothes with Athlestone, a prospect Wamba and Athlestone both refuse, so Cedric it is. Cedric gets to the door of the castle, almost to freedom, when Front de Boeuf stops him, but his disguise is not undone. Instead, Front de Boeuf gives him his plans! Idiotic Cedric can't resist revealing himself as he runs off, and no one bothers to chase him. Front de Boeuf is furious, but Athlestone is willing to make a deal. He'll help if he and the fool are freed...oh, and Rowena (so bland she slipped his mind the first time around). That turns out to be a sticking point, so it looks like we have a battle on our hands!
The battle is mainly a ballet of the howling extras, though King Richard does kill Front de Beouf. Ivanhoe watches from the window and wishes to be at Richard's side, but doesn't do anything to make it happen. Rebecca wonders why the English love to fight. Ivanhoe gives a rah-rah speech about glory and chivalry that almost has her hooked until his wound flares up again. Rebecca says she would only fight to get the Holy Land back. The Jews will have to wait in line for that since the Christians and Muslims are already fighting for it. But wait! This has an effect on Ivanhoe who lovingly kisses Rebecca and vows never to forget her. She's far more memorable than Rowena, but we know they won't end up together!
Robin and company make it through the door (there's not moat, a moat would have helped). De Bracy is pinned down by Richard and spares his life to get to Ivanhoe. Brian gets there first and abducts Rebecca. Everyone but Ivanhoe is fighting now, even Athlestone, though he's wounded. Ivanhoe is rescued by King Richard and whisked off to Robin's camp. Cedric can only think about where Athlestone is, and no one hears the whimpering man only feet away, under a downed pile of hay.
In camp, King Richard frees De Bracy, telling him to leave England under penalty of death. You see, he's a good king. He gets even more chaste by saying he's learned so much from watching the Saxons fight. And then AGAIN when he protects Isaac from Friar Tuck by punching him out in a bit of comedy. How much tolerance can we learn in ten minutes? Apparently enough to build a nation upon.
King Richard also decides to reconcile Ivanhoe and his father, which may be more complicated than fixing the Christian-Jewish problem or the Norman-Saxon problem.
Isaac and Friar Tuck go off to the palace of the Knights Templar, where they have just been discussing how Rebecca must have bewitched Brian. The Grand Master (Philip Locke) questions Isaac, insisting that Rebecca is a witch and has Brian under a spell. He feeds it by confessing that Rebecca is a "healer." The Grand Master takes that to mean sorcery, even though Isaac means nursing. Semantics are going to keep this plot going? The Grand Master, looking enough like a Klan member to bring that whole prejudice connection going between 1194 and 1982. Brian is told Rebecca must be burned, and now suddenly Brian wants her life saved. All he has to do is cast her off, which leads to Rebecca's trial in front of The Grand Master.
King Richard and Ivanhoe leave Robin Hood, but not revealing his identity, though Robin Hood has revealed his. Richard tells him he knew anyway. Obviously he's read the books, watched the movies, seen the shows. I mean, who the hell doesn't know Robin Hood? DUH! Our godly Richard notes to Ivanhoe that he cannot reveal himself until peace is brought to the kingdom, i.e. the Normans and Saxons film an "I'd like to teach the world to sing" Coca-Cola commercial holding hands.
Rebecca has a trial, but it's obviously rigged against her. If she does not come up with a champion quickly, she will be put to death. Anyone care to guess who will be her champion? Anyone who hasn't read the book, that is. \
At Cedric's palace, King Richard reveals himself and promises "equal protection" for Normans and Saxons (playing again on familiar wording) if he will forgive Ivanhoe. That was easy! We're racing to conclusion here, aren't we. However, Cedric refuses to give Rowena's hand to Ivanhoe until two years of mourning are completed.
Cue Athlestone, alive. He willingly pays homage to King Richard and gives Rowena gladly to Ivanhoe because he knows she's never loved him and he's never loved her. "I implore you, can we eat at last?" he says, having taken care of a whole lot of business in the matter of two minutes.
It's a busy palace, this one. Isaac shows up to ask Ivanhoe to champion his daughter and off he goes, though not before giving a chaste little kiss to Rowena, who has just been reunited with him. Damn you, Sir Walter Scott and your plotting! Damn you!
With butter doing anything but melting in her mouth, Rebecca is paid a visit by Brian, offering to save her and ride off to the Holy Land with her, but she refuses and he pretends he doesn't love her. Like she needs him? Ivanhoe is on his way.
Remember Prince John? He has no soldiers left and King Richard is fast approaching. Front de Boeuf is dead, Brian cannot help and De Bracy is sticking to his promise to King Richard to leave England. Even Prince John's most loyal vassal hies to the priesthood in fear.
Unless you have ever read an adventure or romance novel, you will know that as Rebecca is tied to a pole atop a pyre, she's not REALLY going to die. The Grand Master calls for her champion and no one comes forward. The Grand Master puts off the burning for an hour. Brian tries to get Rebecca to run away with him, she refuses, and then he begs her to renounce her faith. She refuses that too. It's going to be a looooooong hour atop that pyre. Well, not that long, because the hour passes literally in five seconds.
Ah, here comes Ivanhoe, riding in just as the fire was to be applied to the pyre (yes, a fire pyre, all of you Sondheim fans). Ivanhoe not only defends her, but denounces Brian and offers to fight him. Before these two cocks go off to fight, Rebecca must accept Ivanhoe as her champion. Like she's in a position to refuse him? Okay, now they can fight. Ivanhoe has bested Brian twice with a lance, so this isn't likely to be very full of suspense. Ivanhoe is knocked off his horse, which means combat with swords. The Grand Master as his fey but talkative assistant all but snort fire as they hope for Brian's success. At first, it seems to be going his way, because Ivanhoe is still weak. Robin Hood and his men are hiding behind the trees, willing to help, of course, but it's been decreed that no one may interfere with this fight. They don't have to. Brian looks at Rebecca and holds the gaze a bit too long, giving Ivanhoe the chance to run him through with a sword.
King Richard arrives in his kingly robes with Prince John in tow and banishes the Grand Master and the rest of the Knights Templar. Off they go. Robin Hood and Friar Tuck are a little ashamed they didn't realize who he was. Richard pronounces complete equality between Saxons and Normans, as he promised.
We need a wedding! Though Ivanhoe loves Rebecca, he loves Rowena more, so it's Rowena he marries. Rebecca goes to Rowena to say her goodbyes, since she and her father are going off to Spain to seek religious freedom. Wow, there's irony for you! The Inquisition never got even a foothold in England, but in Spain, it was a grand success for all but the Jews.
Off Rebecca and Isaac go, as Ivanhoe looks longingly. He has is bland blonde, he's not changing his mind.
Monday, January 10, 2011
The Far Pavilions (1984)
More cheating. "The Far Pavilions" aired on HBO in 1984, the cable network's first miniseries. However, it's an HBO miniseries in name only. It follows all the conventions of a network miniseries to the letter, setting a high standard of quality for coming HBO miniseries, but not at all setting a format. I don't mean that in a judging way, just a statement of fact. HBO would go on to reshape the miniseries format to suit the needs of its subscribers, but in 1984, it was merely doing what network television was doing, giving us lush romantic escapism through the miniseries.
It's 1865, during the Raj in India. Over the credits, we are shown a lot of history. A young British boy is orphaned, but raised as an Indian, servant to a ruler and friend of an adorable little princess there with whom he splits the pieces of a necklace. Killing a snake in the boy ruler's room one night, our hero is branded by the men who had put the snake in the bed to kill the boy ruler and then escapes to The Commandant (Robert Hardy, not playing Winston Churchill, for a change), who sends him to London.
He returns to India as Ash (Ben Cross), traveling with George Garforth (Rupert Everett). Ash is part of a native regiment, while George is part of a commercial house. Ash is welcomed by Indians, which baffles his traveling companions, who find it baffling. You see, the British fobs in India don't think well of the Indians, especially since "The Mutiny" that caused so much fear. Ash has trouble convincing them that India actually belongs to the Indians and not the British. Ash goes to his Indian friends, asking "for this night, let me be Ashook again." You see the conflict coming? Do you? You do, right?
On the journey to northern India, Ash regales his English compatriots with his history, getting insults hurled at him by George and the ladies, except for starry-eyed Belinda Harlowe (Felicity Dean). He returns to The Commandant for his orders, which include training a native troupe, but not "getting too close" to his men. He makes a jolly good time of it and even earns the respect of his men, but is a tough boss too. The Commandant has his worries because the men love him so much. "Let's hope he never has to choose between them and us," he snarls, hitting us with the coming conflict in case we missed it with the Brit nit wits in the earlier scenes.
There is another, more subtle, conflict in Ash. He was raised both Hindu and Muslim, so he "prays to the mountains" as his divine spirit, and we see him do it too. How many worlds can the poor guy straddle?
Ash goes to a British ball, with eyes only for Belinda, for whom he has competition in George. Ash wins the attention of his pretty blonde, though to the dismay of her mother. His way of getting in close with Belinda is to tell her yet more of his history, which is more for us than her, I suppose. Belinda luckily spares us too much in the way of maudlin memory by suggesting another dance. Not to worry, the memories come back on an otherwise lovely outing to tour the sights. He does shut up long enough at one point to kiss her, which of course she's been waiting for. A problem awaits Ash when he applies for permission to marry Belinda, but The Commandant refuses to give permission until Ash is 30 because "that's how long it takes to learn your trade!" He is then sent to the mountains to collect taxes, which he does with spit spot efficiency.
In a flash, Ash receives the news that Belinda is to be married to Sir Ambrose, a man old enough to be her father, though she denies that. "He gives me such lovely presents," she says, turning mercenary, which gets worse a moment later when she tells him they have turned George from their house because his mother was (get ready to gasp) a "half-caste!" Add to that a slap to the face from her and Ash stalks off to find George, drunk with loyal Mrs. Viccary (Jennifer Kendal), friend to all. George is now ignored by society, at least the part that knows. He's worried that everyone will find out and asks what Ash would do if everyone found out. Ash jokes, "I would shoot myself." I know, I know, subtlety is not the watchword here. To give credit to the writing, a scene is placed between Ash's advice and when he finds out George has followed it. Ash is so angry, he goes up to the mountains to live with the Indians who raised him.
It's a harsh life, in a cold climate and with only variations of ugly colors to look at, to make sure we understand what a harsh life it is. There are rival clans constantly trying to knock each other off, seemingly for the purpose of collecting rifles from dead bodies. Those rifles belong to the army, and Ash brings them all back, which puts the army in a bit of a bind. Though he's a "frontier hero," he also has to be reprimanded for deserting and doing it on his own. Ash is very valuable with the trust of the natives, so it's decided to keep him in the army but send him to another regiment, one where he has no friends.
He's sent to Wally (Benedict Taylor), a chipper handsome blond who sings because he's in love with a girl from his voyage who has tossed him out for an older man, causing an instant bond. Only Wally can make poetry out of it. Ash and Wally become such good friends that yet more crusty British officers have a reason to hate him, starting rumors that perhaps there is more to the relationship than just abiding friendship. Over the course of three years, they do become good friends, despite Wally's constant sicknesses (he has a boil on his bum at one point).
Ash takes Wally up to his beloved mountains where Wally sees the branding on Ash's chest. Hey, if Belinda isn't around to listen to Ash's past, Wally is. He is reminded of the lovely princess, who is actually one quarter Russian. "God knows where she is now," he says. Guess what, folks, she's in the next scene! Meet grown-up Anjuli (Amy Irving, done up in heavy dark make-up, and not at all convincing as three-quarters anything, let alone Indian!). She's still in the palace, though the new boy ruler is a pain-in-the-ass schemer.
Following that is a long scene where Ash chews out a bunch of officers and visitors in the club, which pisses off the guys who had him down as a homosexual previously. They are worried that his ideas will poison the minds of others, so the arrange to play a trick on him while he sleeps. However, he manages to subdue the entire bunch of them, with some assist from Wally and their own incompetence (this scene plays like a Matt Sennett homage).
Due to the fight, Ash is sent to escort two brides to their husbands (Anjuli being one of them, coincidentally), finally bringing our long-lost never-got-to-be-lovers together again after a huge amount of time. The first friendly face he sees is Koda Dad (Omar Sharif), the man who raised him and whom he calls father. He's Master of Horse and fills Ash in on all that has gone on in his absence. "How did you not know these things?" Koda asks, understandably (I was wondering the same thing). His excuse is he was too angry to be paying attention.
Ash gets his chance to see Anjuli under the most heroic of circumstances. Anjuli is riding along and there is a crack in the earth that almost causes her to fall down a mountain (okay, it's a hill and doesn't look very dangerous). Ash rushes in and saves her and her fellow princess, though Anjuli tries to avoid looking at him. The other princess is so shocked by the experience that they have to make camp for two days. Princess Shushila (Sneh Gupta) and her caretaker Kaka-ji (Christopher Lee) are at odds because Shushila wants to have fun, which is "not seemly" according to him. As for Anjuli, she's still wearing her half of the necklace, but doesn't seem to recognize her beloved Ash until she realizes he has the other half.
She shows up at his tent, breaking all rules of protocol and good manners. This has to be the least romantic reuniting scene in miniseries history. She's afraid for his safety and he's afraid for her honor and they speak in codes, stupid since they are the only ones in the tent. She fills in her part of the narrative in the now-expected laziness of bulk monologue. She claims not to recognize him, which is downright bizarre at this point, but it actually happens and she bursts into heaving sobs.
The Prince's younger brother shows up with Ash's nemesis, Biju Ram (Saeed Jaffray), the man who branded him. But, that only takes a second before Kaka-ji has to bore us with his backstory, his love for a half-caste, Anjuli's mother. I know the book is dense and beautiful, with so many wonderful plot strands, but unfortunately, like Michener and Clavell learned, some have to be cut.
Against warnings, the little Prince Jhoti goes riding alone on a wild horse, causing everyone to chase him. They stop the prince from going over a cliff, but unfortunately Ash is injured in the melee. Koda Dad is the happiest of all to see his adopted son return to life, but also shows Ash that horse did not bolt on accident. Someone is out to get the little prince. Is it his jealous older brother? Kaka-ji won't let Ash think such a thing. Is it Biju Ram, who is supposedly out of favor with the main prince?
Ash and Anjuli get to have a heart-to-heart since he's bed-bound in a tent. I would like to say there is chemistry between Ben Cross and Amy Irving, but it's too soon for that. It's still hard to get used to Amy playing an Indian princess. Ah, 1984, before political correctness invaded pop culture.
Unfortunately, Biju Ram knows it was Anjuli in Ash's tent and Ash suspects Biju Ram is behind the plot to kill the prince. Ash runs his theory across Koda Dad and also confesses his love for Anjuli and his desire for them to marry and escape everything. It's not a wise move, he's warned, but this is, above all, a romance tale, though cloaked in exotica and daring-do. Unfortunately, their budding love leads us smack into one of the hoariest of the miniseries traps: the slow motion montage. Ah, yes, our lovers go riding on their horses slow enough so that you can pop in a microwave dinner, wait for it, and still be back in time to arrive for the next line of dialogue. To cap it off, they have another heart-to-heart that goes in for heavy exposition. It's mercifully cut short by a gigantic sandstorm.
Now this I can get into. Here we have the adventure part of the story that has been sorely lacking so far. Oh, for crying out loud! The lovers escape into a cave in mere moments and finally get the chance to have their clinch. "Oh, my love, love me. Love me now," Anjuli says before they press their lips together and have a dimly lit sex scene right there in the cave. It's a long one too, and not even in slow motion. "I never meant this to happen," Ash says after they are done. "I did," Anjuli replies. She's wanted it forever. She knows she can now be married off, having known love, but he wants to run away with her. Since the movie is only half over, we have to invent excuses why this is not possible, such as "I can't leave Shushila. "If I'm not there to comfort her and love her, she will die." Oh, please! Let the selfish sister go and stay with the hunky man who loves you!
Anjuli has thought of everything, answering every question he has as a way to keep her. Yes, she can pretend she's a virgin for the man she will marry. Yes, she will keep his baby if she gets pregnant and raise it as a prince. Actually, she has a walloping grandiose speech about how much she would love that potential child and then insists they return to the others. Overwritten? You bet. Badly acted? You bet. But, these are the slings and arrows of outrageous romances. Luckily, it's Kaku-ji who finds the lovers and has a story all prepared for when they reach camp and have to explain where they have been. He knows full well what happened.
Pondering his fate at night, Ash is shot at by Biju Ram with his very own pistol. Biju Ram explains that his servant had stolen the guy and Biju Ram wanted to make sure it worked before he returned it, thinking Ash was an animal. All of this time, apparently, Biju Ram hasn't realized that Ash is the kid he tried to kill years ago! They have a fight and Biju Ram dies, but Ash manages to make it look like a cobra bite. There is only one button left near the body to prove that Ash was there...
Our army arrives in Bhithor, but it's not a welcoming place. First off, they are forced to camp outside the city walls in an indefensible position, which doesn't sit well with Ash, but Kaku-ji tells him to accept it. Then they find out the marriage contract needs to be redone. That means having to meat the Rana of Bhitor (Rossano Brazzi, looking more Indian than Amy Irving, but sounding more Italian than Sophia Loren).
So, now come the negotiations. One sticking point is Anjuli's age. The Rana thinks she's too old and unless her dowry is tripled, a sneaky way of making a ton of money, since she can't be send home; that would be a disgrace. Ash tells her, in a very impassioned speech, but Anjuli refuses to leave her sister in the clutches of the Rana, another of those roadblocks stuck in their way that has many a solution around it if they would bother to consider any. Right in front of old Kaku-ji, the two kiss big, with the whole violin section going hog wild. He chews Ash out a bit for causing Anjuli pain by loving her and then, to be polite, falls on his own sword a bit for his "negligence and folly."
Ash decides to move the caravan out, a dicey proposition as they are in a valley surrounded by forts on mountains that communicate with each other by flashing light off mirrors (it's 1865, pre-Twitter, so we have to accept there is no better way). When the Rana's soldiers go into the camp with guns, it gives Ash an excuse to threaten the Rana, telling him it's an act of war against the government and unless the princesses are received under the original contract, he will tell the army, who will depose the Rana and send him into exile. It's a ballsy move, but it forces the Rana's hand. Well, kind of, since the Rana gives the other side a palace to stay in that they have to pay for.
Using the lion's share of the budget, we're treated to a supremely long wedding ceremony. There are extra a-plenty, elephants, fire, food, gold, Hindu priests, acres of silk clothing, and a glowering Ash standing high above the ceremony all but putting a curse on the whole damn thing. He tells Koda Dad his "heart is breaking," which sucks because the festivities go on for a whopping three days. That means many more extras, now dancing, and a ton more glowering. As a last humiliation, Ash is forced to watch as Anjuli leaves with her new husband in the finale of the budget-blowing cavalcade.
Meanwhile, war has broken out in Afghanistan, and it's a bloody one. Our delightful blond Wally, too much missed, surveys the carnage with blood stains liberally applied to make it look like he was part of the action (remember, the budget is was spent on the damn wedding, so now we have to tighten our belts). He's part of a small retinue that has survived.
This brings the British further into Afghanistan and John Gielgud as Major Cavagnari (hey, at least he's not playing Indian) with them. Though the British did not win the battle, Cavagnari forces the Afgans to accept a British mission in their country too, at the threat of toppling the government and setting up a puppet government.
Ash and Wally are reunited, but Ash is gloomy over his lost princess, and in case you missed the last few hours, he fills Wally in on what happened in a few sentences. Ash gets even more depressing as he tells an optimistic Wally that the British are merely doing in Afghanistan what they did in India and it causes a rift between the two. Little Wally stalks off with, "go to hell!" which is about as mean as he gets.
At the Rana's palace, Anjuli thinks only of Ash, spending her scenes staring into space as her maids gossip and Shushila learns how to twist the Rana around her finger to win jewels. She's cut off from her sister and her trusted maid is killed.
Our hero resigns from the army, but with one condition, that he go to Kabul in native dress and spy on things until the British mission leaves. Doesn't sound like much of a resignation, does it? But, Ash doesn't exactly have much else to do. He could pine like Anjuli, but that would make the rest of the movie downright deadly boring, wouldn't it? Plus, it keeps him part of the plot as Cavagnari, with trusty Wally as his military aide, sets up the British mission in Kabul in an enormous palace. There are lots of politics going on, with Cavagnari the ultimate diplomat in wowing the Emir of Afghanistan with trinkets like clocks in appeasing him so that he doesn't realize he's losing his country. He even slings that BS at his own people, and since he's John Gielgud, they believe it.
Ash had predicted that the army would look to the British to pay back wages, though Cavagnari disagrees. He's wrong. Seemingly the entire male population of Afghanistan storms the British mission, where Wally has ordered that no one fire on them without his permission. At first, there is simply just a lot of fist pumping and yelling, but Cavagnari thinks he can halt the mob with a few well-chosen words, telling them he has no reason to pay them; it's an internal dispute for their Emir to handle. His words appease them for about 10 minutes before they are storming back through the barricades and Wally is leading the defense (with a pistol). Cavagnari is wounded, but is more concerned about the blood on his shirt and sends a man to get him a new one. Unfortunately, he takes another bullet, dirtying another shirt. He doesn't ask for a third shirt because he dies.
Wally, who once again looks fetching in combat, and who can kill anyone with his pistol without actually aiming, has barely enough soldiers left to defend the mission, but insists on fighting on, in slow motion so Ash can watch him die and then get shot himself. He's okay, but before he leaves the decimated mission, he, with the help of the whole violin section again, carries Wally's body to a cannon, placing it there and draping a Union Jack over him. Awwwwww.
This whole last section, with politics barely explained and a rather wan battle scene, is only a distraction from the main love plot. Ash returns to Koda Dad to find out that the Rana is dying and, as custom, his wives will be burned with his body. Ash asks everyone for help, but he is turned down. Even the telegraph operator won't help, but not to worry, there's a trusty carrier pigeon that aids communication (what, no mirrors?). Ash races to the Rana's palace, to be informed that the Rana is expected to die that very day.
The conflict is back. You see, it's custom to burn the wives of a dead ruler and if Ash tries to stop it, the people will rebel. Ash threatens to bring the Raj, but everyone knows they won't help. "I will let you know when I have worked out a plan that will succeed," Ash tells his pals petulantly. Hmmm, should he respect the customs of the people who raised him or spit on them by the people who birthed him? A half a scene later, he realizes there is no plan that will work, so he throws his arm around his chum and says, "let's go eat, I'm starving." Boy, he gives up awfully easily!
No, no! A meal and a touching story by a servant later, he's determined again to rescue his beloved.
And then Rana dies, loudly, so Brazzi can have one last moment to ham it up (it's a small part, but don't tell him that). Ash joins the massive crowd of mourners drooling over the prospect of watching the pyre. The next scene goes to Shushila and Anjuli, where Shushila reveals that she's jealous of her half-sister and has caused her all the pain at the palace. Shushila refuses to let Anjuli burn on the pyre and "defile the Rana's ashes." But, just when you think that's the escape clause, Shushila says she's made "other arrangements." Just what that means, she doesn't say, but it gives hope to Ash. Now, come on! Do you think Shushila is going to let Anjuli off that easily?
Plus, we know how devoted Anjuli is to custom, and when Ash shows up to rescue her, she refuses to go. She has found out that Shushila's plan is to have Anjuli's eyes poked out after having seen her die with the Rana's body. That is the ultimate revenge, but Anjuli would rather do that than escape with Ash. For crying out loud! But, to satisfy him, she will allow him to shoot her sister dead once the pyre starts going to spare her the fear of burning alive. Once that happens, Ash and Anjuli hightail it out of the palace.
Eternal happiness does not come so quickly. It's discovered that Anjuli has escaped and a posse is sent after them. Anjuli's horse is shot out from underneath her, but she is safe. Ash leaves her with his trust men and goes back to fight. He promises Anjuli he will return with giant kiss. Ash, Koda Dan and a doctor get to fight the army sent after them. What ensues is a fight straight out of the American West, with Ash as the fast shot who can pick off four men with one pistol before they can aim their rifles. Though they rout the army, the doctor dies and Koda Dan is mortally wounded. Ash leaves him to die and goes off into the mountains, the Far Pavilions as they are called, with Anjuli.
"The Far Pavilions" is fine as romance, terrible as adventure. The adventure parts (battles, crumbling mountains and such) look cheap and are so tied to the kind of backstory politics that work well in a book but badly on screen. The romance is better, but only because Ben Cross gives all he has. Amy Irving is never believable as an Indian princess, and her robotic devotion to custom wears awfully thin, so that by the end, one just wishes she would have followed the customs and let her beloved find a new gal. Even the guest stars fail to register. Rossano Brazzi has nothing to do, John Gielgud is around only for a few minutes, Omar Sharif is, well, Omar Sharif. Christopher Lee, as ridiculous as an Indian as Amy Irving, is majestic enough for the part, but it's not much of a part.
The exotic locale and breathless story should have been a no-brainer for a miniseries in 1984, but "The Far Pavilions" presents a problem: there is no clear sense of good and evil. Just when you think everything Indian is good and everything British evil, the story shows us how cruel the native customs can be (not that the British had any right to meddle). An epic like this needs to have heroes and villains who are uncomplicated, unless it is so well written that the lack of moral clarity can be made acceptable. The writing here is way too hackneyed for that, so ultimately we're provided with merely an eye-popping spectacle, pretty to look at, but empty of heart.
It's 1865, during the Raj in India. Over the credits, we are shown a lot of history. A young British boy is orphaned, but raised as an Indian, servant to a ruler and friend of an adorable little princess there with whom he splits the pieces of a necklace. Killing a snake in the boy ruler's room one night, our hero is branded by the men who had put the snake in the bed to kill the boy ruler and then escapes to The Commandant (Robert Hardy, not playing Winston Churchill, for a change), who sends him to London.
He returns to India as Ash (Ben Cross), traveling with George Garforth (Rupert Everett). Ash is part of a native regiment, while George is part of a commercial house. Ash is welcomed by Indians, which baffles his traveling companions, who find it baffling. You see, the British fobs in India don't think well of the Indians, especially since "The Mutiny" that caused so much fear. Ash has trouble convincing them that India actually belongs to the Indians and not the British. Ash goes to his Indian friends, asking "for this night, let me be Ashook again." You see the conflict coming? Do you? You do, right?
On the journey to northern India, Ash regales his English compatriots with his history, getting insults hurled at him by George and the ladies, except for starry-eyed Belinda Harlowe (Felicity Dean). He returns to The Commandant for his orders, which include training a native troupe, but not "getting too close" to his men. He makes a jolly good time of it and even earns the respect of his men, but is a tough boss too. The Commandant has his worries because the men love him so much. "Let's hope he never has to choose between them and us," he snarls, hitting us with the coming conflict in case we missed it with the Brit nit wits in the earlier scenes.
There is another, more subtle, conflict in Ash. He was raised both Hindu and Muslim, so he "prays to the mountains" as his divine spirit, and we see him do it too. How many worlds can the poor guy straddle?
Ash goes to a British ball, with eyes only for Belinda, for whom he has competition in George. Ash wins the attention of his pretty blonde, though to the dismay of her mother. His way of getting in close with Belinda is to tell her yet more of his history, which is more for us than her, I suppose. Belinda luckily spares us too much in the way of maudlin memory by suggesting another dance. Not to worry, the memories come back on an otherwise lovely outing to tour the sights. He does shut up long enough at one point to kiss her, which of course she's been waiting for. A problem awaits Ash when he applies for permission to marry Belinda, but The Commandant refuses to give permission until Ash is 30 because "that's how long it takes to learn your trade!" He is then sent to the mountains to collect taxes, which he does with spit spot efficiency.
In a flash, Ash receives the news that Belinda is to be married to Sir Ambrose, a man old enough to be her father, though she denies that. "He gives me such lovely presents," she says, turning mercenary, which gets worse a moment later when she tells him they have turned George from their house because his mother was (get ready to gasp) a "half-caste!" Add to that a slap to the face from her and Ash stalks off to find George, drunk with loyal Mrs. Viccary (Jennifer Kendal), friend to all. George is now ignored by society, at least the part that knows. He's worried that everyone will find out and asks what Ash would do if everyone found out. Ash jokes, "I would shoot myself." I know, I know, subtlety is not the watchword here. To give credit to the writing, a scene is placed between Ash's advice and when he finds out George has followed it. Ash is so angry, he goes up to the mountains to live with the Indians who raised him.
It's a harsh life, in a cold climate and with only variations of ugly colors to look at, to make sure we understand what a harsh life it is. There are rival clans constantly trying to knock each other off, seemingly for the purpose of collecting rifles from dead bodies. Those rifles belong to the army, and Ash brings them all back, which puts the army in a bit of a bind. Though he's a "frontier hero," he also has to be reprimanded for deserting and doing it on his own. Ash is very valuable with the trust of the natives, so it's decided to keep him in the army but send him to another regiment, one where he has no friends.
He's sent to Wally (Benedict Taylor), a chipper handsome blond who sings because he's in love with a girl from his voyage who has tossed him out for an older man, causing an instant bond. Only Wally can make poetry out of it. Ash and Wally become such good friends that yet more crusty British officers have a reason to hate him, starting rumors that perhaps there is more to the relationship than just abiding friendship. Over the course of three years, they do become good friends, despite Wally's constant sicknesses (he has a boil on his bum at one point).
Ash takes Wally up to his beloved mountains where Wally sees the branding on Ash's chest. Hey, if Belinda isn't around to listen to Ash's past, Wally is. He is reminded of the lovely princess, who is actually one quarter Russian. "God knows where she is now," he says. Guess what, folks, she's in the next scene! Meet grown-up Anjuli (Amy Irving, done up in heavy dark make-up, and not at all convincing as three-quarters anything, let alone Indian!). She's still in the palace, though the new boy ruler is a pain-in-the-ass schemer.
Following that is a long scene where Ash chews out a bunch of officers and visitors in the club, which pisses off the guys who had him down as a homosexual previously. They are worried that his ideas will poison the minds of others, so the arrange to play a trick on him while he sleeps. However, he manages to subdue the entire bunch of them, with some assist from Wally and their own incompetence (this scene plays like a Matt Sennett homage).
Due to the fight, Ash is sent to escort two brides to their husbands (Anjuli being one of them, coincidentally), finally bringing our long-lost never-got-to-be-lovers together again after a huge amount of time. The first friendly face he sees is Koda Dad (Omar Sharif), the man who raised him and whom he calls father. He's Master of Horse and fills Ash in on all that has gone on in his absence. "How did you not know these things?" Koda asks, understandably (I was wondering the same thing). His excuse is he was too angry to be paying attention.
Ash gets his chance to see Anjuli under the most heroic of circumstances. Anjuli is riding along and there is a crack in the earth that almost causes her to fall down a mountain (okay, it's a hill and doesn't look very dangerous). Ash rushes in and saves her and her fellow princess, though Anjuli tries to avoid looking at him. The other princess is so shocked by the experience that they have to make camp for two days. Princess Shushila (Sneh Gupta) and her caretaker Kaka-ji (Christopher Lee) are at odds because Shushila wants to have fun, which is "not seemly" according to him. As for Anjuli, she's still wearing her half of the necklace, but doesn't seem to recognize her beloved Ash until she realizes he has the other half.
She shows up at his tent, breaking all rules of protocol and good manners. This has to be the least romantic reuniting scene in miniseries history. She's afraid for his safety and he's afraid for her honor and they speak in codes, stupid since they are the only ones in the tent. She fills in her part of the narrative in the now-expected laziness of bulk monologue. She claims not to recognize him, which is downright bizarre at this point, but it actually happens and she bursts into heaving sobs.
The Prince's younger brother shows up with Ash's nemesis, Biju Ram (Saeed Jaffray), the man who branded him. But, that only takes a second before Kaka-ji has to bore us with his backstory, his love for a half-caste, Anjuli's mother. I know the book is dense and beautiful, with so many wonderful plot strands, but unfortunately, like Michener and Clavell learned, some have to be cut.
Against warnings, the little Prince Jhoti goes riding alone on a wild horse, causing everyone to chase him. They stop the prince from going over a cliff, but unfortunately Ash is injured in the melee. Koda Dad is the happiest of all to see his adopted son return to life, but also shows Ash that horse did not bolt on accident. Someone is out to get the little prince. Is it his jealous older brother? Kaka-ji won't let Ash think such a thing. Is it Biju Ram, who is supposedly out of favor with the main prince?
Ash and Anjuli get to have a heart-to-heart since he's bed-bound in a tent. I would like to say there is chemistry between Ben Cross and Amy Irving, but it's too soon for that. It's still hard to get used to Amy playing an Indian princess. Ah, 1984, before political correctness invaded pop culture.
Unfortunately, Biju Ram knows it was Anjuli in Ash's tent and Ash suspects Biju Ram is behind the plot to kill the prince. Ash runs his theory across Koda Dad and also confesses his love for Anjuli and his desire for them to marry and escape everything. It's not a wise move, he's warned, but this is, above all, a romance tale, though cloaked in exotica and daring-do. Unfortunately, their budding love leads us smack into one of the hoariest of the miniseries traps: the slow motion montage. Ah, yes, our lovers go riding on their horses slow enough so that you can pop in a microwave dinner, wait for it, and still be back in time to arrive for the next line of dialogue. To cap it off, they have another heart-to-heart that goes in for heavy exposition. It's mercifully cut short by a gigantic sandstorm.
Now this I can get into. Here we have the adventure part of the story that has been sorely lacking so far. Oh, for crying out loud! The lovers escape into a cave in mere moments and finally get the chance to have their clinch. "Oh, my love, love me. Love me now," Anjuli says before they press their lips together and have a dimly lit sex scene right there in the cave. It's a long one too, and not even in slow motion. "I never meant this to happen," Ash says after they are done. "I did," Anjuli replies. She's wanted it forever. She knows she can now be married off, having known love, but he wants to run away with her. Since the movie is only half over, we have to invent excuses why this is not possible, such as "I can't leave Shushila. "If I'm not there to comfort her and love her, she will die." Oh, please! Let the selfish sister go and stay with the hunky man who loves you!
Anjuli has thought of everything, answering every question he has as a way to keep her. Yes, she can pretend she's a virgin for the man she will marry. Yes, she will keep his baby if she gets pregnant and raise it as a prince. Actually, she has a walloping grandiose speech about how much she would love that potential child and then insists they return to the others. Overwritten? You bet. Badly acted? You bet. But, these are the slings and arrows of outrageous romances. Luckily, it's Kaku-ji who finds the lovers and has a story all prepared for when they reach camp and have to explain where they have been. He knows full well what happened.
Pondering his fate at night, Ash is shot at by Biju Ram with his very own pistol. Biju Ram explains that his servant had stolen the guy and Biju Ram wanted to make sure it worked before he returned it, thinking Ash was an animal. All of this time, apparently, Biju Ram hasn't realized that Ash is the kid he tried to kill years ago! They have a fight and Biju Ram dies, but Ash manages to make it look like a cobra bite. There is only one button left near the body to prove that Ash was there...
Our army arrives in Bhithor, but it's not a welcoming place. First off, they are forced to camp outside the city walls in an indefensible position, which doesn't sit well with Ash, but Kaku-ji tells him to accept it. Then they find out the marriage contract needs to be redone. That means having to meat the Rana of Bhitor (Rossano Brazzi, looking more Indian than Amy Irving, but sounding more Italian than Sophia Loren).
So, now come the negotiations. One sticking point is Anjuli's age. The Rana thinks she's too old and unless her dowry is tripled, a sneaky way of making a ton of money, since she can't be send home; that would be a disgrace. Ash tells her, in a very impassioned speech, but Anjuli refuses to leave her sister in the clutches of the Rana, another of those roadblocks stuck in their way that has many a solution around it if they would bother to consider any. Right in front of old Kaku-ji, the two kiss big, with the whole violin section going hog wild. He chews Ash out a bit for causing Anjuli pain by loving her and then, to be polite, falls on his own sword a bit for his "negligence and folly."
Ash decides to move the caravan out, a dicey proposition as they are in a valley surrounded by forts on mountains that communicate with each other by flashing light off mirrors (it's 1865, pre-Twitter, so we have to accept there is no better way). When the Rana's soldiers go into the camp with guns, it gives Ash an excuse to threaten the Rana, telling him it's an act of war against the government and unless the princesses are received under the original contract, he will tell the army, who will depose the Rana and send him into exile. It's a ballsy move, but it forces the Rana's hand. Well, kind of, since the Rana gives the other side a palace to stay in that they have to pay for.
Using the lion's share of the budget, we're treated to a supremely long wedding ceremony. There are extra a-plenty, elephants, fire, food, gold, Hindu priests, acres of silk clothing, and a glowering Ash standing high above the ceremony all but putting a curse on the whole damn thing. He tells Koda Dad his "heart is breaking," which sucks because the festivities go on for a whopping three days. That means many more extras, now dancing, and a ton more glowering. As a last humiliation, Ash is forced to watch as Anjuli leaves with her new husband in the finale of the budget-blowing cavalcade.
Meanwhile, war has broken out in Afghanistan, and it's a bloody one. Our delightful blond Wally, too much missed, surveys the carnage with blood stains liberally applied to make it look like he was part of the action (remember, the budget is was spent on the damn wedding, so now we have to tighten our belts). He's part of a small retinue that has survived.
This brings the British further into Afghanistan and John Gielgud as Major Cavagnari (hey, at least he's not playing Indian) with them. Though the British did not win the battle, Cavagnari forces the Afgans to accept a British mission in their country too, at the threat of toppling the government and setting up a puppet government.
Ash and Wally are reunited, but Ash is gloomy over his lost princess, and in case you missed the last few hours, he fills Wally in on what happened in a few sentences. Ash gets even more depressing as he tells an optimistic Wally that the British are merely doing in Afghanistan what they did in India and it causes a rift between the two. Little Wally stalks off with, "go to hell!" which is about as mean as he gets.
At the Rana's palace, Anjuli thinks only of Ash, spending her scenes staring into space as her maids gossip and Shushila learns how to twist the Rana around her finger to win jewels. She's cut off from her sister and her trusted maid is killed.
Our hero resigns from the army, but with one condition, that he go to Kabul in native dress and spy on things until the British mission leaves. Doesn't sound like much of a resignation, does it? But, Ash doesn't exactly have much else to do. He could pine like Anjuli, but that would make the rest of the movie downright deadly boring, wouldn't it? Plus, it keeps him part of the plot as Cavagnari, with trusty Wally as his military aide, sets up the British mission in Kabul in an enormous palace. There are lots of politics going on, with Cavagnari the ultimate diplomat in wowing the Emir of Afghanistan with trinkets like clocks in appeasing him so that he doesn't realize he's losing his country. He even slings that BS at his own people, and since he's John Gielgud, they believe it.
Ash had predicted that the army would look to the British to pay back wages, though Cavagnari disagrees. He's wrong. Seemingly the entire male population of Afghanistan storms the British mission, where Wally has ordered that no one fire on them without his permission. At first, there is simply just a lot of fist pumping and yelling, but Cavagnari thinks he can halt the mob with a few well-chosen words, telling them he has no reason to pay them; it's an internal dispute for their Emir to handle. His words appease them for about 10 minutes before they are storming back through the barricades and Wally is leading the defense (with a pistol). Cavagnari is wounded, but is more concerned about the blood on his shirt and sends a man to get him a new one. Unfortunately, he takes another bullet, dirtying another shirt. He doesn't ask for a third shirt because he dies.
Wally, who once again looks fetching in combat, and who can kill anyone with his pistol without actually aiming, has barely enough soldiers left to defend the mission, but insists on fighting on, in slow motion so Ash can watch him die and then get shot himself. He's okay, but before he leaves the decimated mission, he, with the help of the whole violin section again, carries Wally's body to a cannon, placing it there and draping a Union Jack over him. Awwwwww.
This whole last section, with politics barely explained and a rather wan battle scene, is only a distraction from the main love plot. Ash returns to Koda Dad to find out that the Rana is dying and, as custom, his wives will be burned with his body. Ash asks everyone for help, but he is turned down. Even the telegraph operator won't help, but not to worry, there's a trusty carrier pigeon that aids communication (what, no mirrors?). Ash races to the Rana's palace, to be informed that the Rana is expected to die that very day.
The conflict is back. You see, it's custom to burn the wives of a dead ruler and if Ash tries to stop it, the people will rebel. Ash threatens to bring the Raj, but everyone knows they won't help. "I will let you know when I have worked out a plan that will succeed," Ash tells his pals petulantly. Hmmm, should he respect the customs of the people who raised him or spit on them by the people who birthed him? A half a scene later, he realizes there is no plan that will work, so he throws his arm around his chum and says, "let's go eat, I'm starving." Boy, he gives up awfully easily!
No, no! A meal and a touching story by a servant later, he's determined again to rescue his beloved.
And then Rana dies, loudly, so Brazzi can have one last moment to ham it up (it's a small part, but don't tell him that). Ash joins the massive crowd of mourners drooling over the prospect of watching the pyre. The next scene goes to Shushila and Anjuli, where Shushila reveals that she's jealous of her half-sister and has caused her all the pain at the palace. Shushila refuses to let Anjuli burn on the pyre and "defile the Rana's ashes." But, just when you think that's the escape clause, Shushila says she's made "other arrangements." Just what that means, she doesn't say, but it gives hope to Ash. Now, come on! Do you think Shushila is going to let Anjuli off that easily?
Plus, we know how devoted Anjuli is to custom, and when Ash shows up to rescue her, she refuses to go. She has found out that Shushila's plan is to have Anjuli's eyes poked out after having seen her die with the Rana's body. That is the ultimate revenge, but Anjuli would rather do that than escape with Ash. For crying out loud! But, to satisfy him, she will allow him to shoot her sister dead once the pyre starts going to spare her the fear of burning alive. Once that happens, Ash and Anjuli hightail it out of the palace.
Eternal happiness does not come so quickly. It's discovered that Anjuli has escaped and a posse is sent after them. Anjuli's horse is shot out from underneath her, but she is safe. Ash leaves her with his trust men and goes back to fight. He promises Anjuli he will return with giant kiss. Ash, Koda Dan and a doctor get to fight the army sent after them. What ensues is a fight straight out of the American West, with Ash as the fast shot who can pick off four men with one pistol before they can aim their rifles. Though they rout the army, the doctor dies and Koda Dan is mortally wounded. Ash leaves him to die and goes off into the mountains, the Far Pavilions as they are called, with Anjuli.
"The Far Pavilions" is fine as romance, terrible as adventure. The adventure parts (battles, crumbling mountains and such) look cheap and are so tied to the kind of backstory politics that work well in a book but badly on screen. The romance is better, but only because Ben Cross gives all he has. Amy Irving is never believable as an Indian princess, and her robotic devotion to custom wears awfully thin, so that by the end, one just wishes she would have followed the customs and let her beloved find a new gal. Even the guest stars fail to register. Rossano Brazzi has nothing to do, John Gielgud is around only for a few minutes, Omar Sharif is, well, Omar Sharif. Christopher Lee, as ridiculous as an Indian as Amy Irving, is majestic enough for the part, but it's not much of a part.
The exotic locale and breathless story should have been a no-brainer for a miniseries in 1984, but "The Far Pavilions" presents a problem: there is no clear sense of good and evil. Just when you think everything Indian is good and everything British evil, the story shows us how cruel the native customs can be (not that the British had any right to meddle). An epic like this needs to have heroes and villains who are uncomplicated, unless it is so well written that the lack of moral clarity can be made acceptable. The writing here is way too hackneyed for that, so ultimately we're provided with merely an eye-popping spectacle, pretty to look at, but empty of heart.
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