Marvelous Discovery: FOYLE’S WAR on Netflix
· ·

Marvelous Discovery: FOYLE’S WAR on Netflix

At night, after working all day and then tending to my little one and organizing dinner and cleanup, I pose for my husband, classical figurative sculptor Sabin Howard. This entails sitting and holding a particular expression and gesture while he sculpts.

It’s work, not play, trust me. And it takes forever. We’ve been working on this head for almost a year.

Whiling away the hours has turned me into a Netflix aficionado. I started with 24, and watched all 8 seasons. I went through Grey’s Anatomy (really gets lame as the seasons wind on) and The X Files (despite my obsession in the 1990’s, some episodes are tedious).

Recently, I watched The 4400 and White Collar, both fun shows. White Collar features an art thief/con man who works with an FBI agent to solve crimes. Since I secretly want to be an art thief when I grow up, I got hooked on this show immediately. Sabin stopped sculpting to watch an episode with me about sculpture forgery. There was some chitchat about Bernini while authenticating a sculpture that had Sabin grinning.

Then last night I stumbled upon an intelligent, suspenseful British historical crime drama called Foyle’s War. It’s set in England during WW2. After two years of research for novels I am writing set during that period, I can tell you: this show gets the details right!

It’s an impressive show. It’s fascinating to see how the moral complexity of individual lives plays out against the larger backdrop of the war, which was a war without any moral complexity at all: Nazi murderous, racist, unbounded aggression was simply wrong.

But individuals can seldom be depicted this way, strictly as saints or as demons. And so the people of that era who lived, who didn’t die one way or the other in the war, lived their lives with the richness and fullness of humanity–not with any false purity. They committed crimes, made mistakes, turned blind eyes, gave in to their worst impulses, took advantage, lied, cheated, and stole, the way people do, and have done since Cain and Abel, and always will do.

At the heart of this series is Chief Superintendent Christopher Foyle, a quiet man with a sterling moral center and a dedication to fly fishing. Other characters are also engaging: Sam, his girl Friday/chauffeur, and Foyle’s son, who has enlisted.

I recommend this show, and I look forward to watching more episodes as I perch on the small seat of a ladder and hold a lopsided smile, all for my husband’s sculpting.

 

 

New Favorite Show: BBC’s SHERLOCK
·

New Favorite Show: BBC’s SHERLOCK

(BBC’s SHERLOCK)

A sudden blow: the great wings beating still
Above the staggering girl, her thighs caressed
By the dark webs, her nape caught in his bill….

         Being so caught up,
So mastered by the brute blood of the air,
Did she put on his knowledge with his power
Before the indifferent beak could let her drop?
William Butler Yeats, Leda and the Swan

I love sonnets. They are the most passionate of poems: convex with energy pushing out, straining against form. A sonnet possesses 14 lines only, to say everything.

And when the valence shatters–O.

In my own experience, poetry comes from the inarticulate place. It is an Orphic activity, because the poet descends into hell and looks back and leaves language behind, and brings back things that can not be said any other way.

So, sonnets, so exquisite because of their restraint.

I read Yeats when my soul is hungry and predatory like a vampire and wants to feast. I read Rumi when my heart is sick and I founder, when despair threatens everything. I read sonnets to feel amorous. It’s all that restraint and boundedness–a big turn on.

Because when the restraint breaks–the sublime sweeps in.

But I think few Americans get it about restraint and how sexy it is. Our culture is so boringly obvious.

A friend of mine in the TV & movie industry recommended the British show Sherlock, saying, “It’s by smart people, about smart people, for smart people–and they don’t care who doesn’t get it.”

That was a kind of challenge. Naturally, I soon logged into Neflix to find out for myself.

Sherlock exceeded my expectations. The plots are intricate and interwoven, juicy and satisfying. They’re just so darn intelligent.

Enlivening the whole hour and a half is restraint: the restraint on which is founded the curious, brilliant character of Sherlock Holmes, played superbly by Benedict Cumberbatch. The restraint of Martin Freeman’s grounded, likable, heterosexual Dr. John Watson, who is constantly mistaken for Sherlock’s better half. Andrew Scott plays a chilling and unexpected Moriarty, not at all obvious. Louise Brealey plays a hapless but good-hearted pathologist who assists Sherlock in the laboratory. Mark Gatiss ably and well plays Mycroft Holmes.

A whole cast of intelligent, restrained actors bringing vivid yet thoughtful life to their characters.

When I wax rhapsodic about intelligence and restraint, some readers may incorrectly think, “lacking suspense.” To the contrary, each episode is breathtakingly taut and absorbing. Each episode flies by, holding the viewer rapt.

What a treat! Don’t restrain yourself, go immediately to Netflix and see firsthand what I mean.

Listen to this blogpost as a podcast in iTunes here.