Tyrant Series One- Episode Six. Minor spoilers. Some notes, dialogue and description with a review at the end. On in the UK on FOX Channel or number 157 on Virgin Media TV Fridays @ 10pm repeated during the week.

Tyrant Episode Six


Some notes, dialogue and description with review at the end.

Previously..
Bassam:
“I need an hour with Shaykh Rashid..”
Shaykh Rashid:
“Yesterday you were my enemy, today you are my guest..”
Bassam to Jamal:
“You can end all this without a shot!”

Now.
Ha ha.  next thing you know Jamal is jogging with Bassam and his perfectly timed bodyguard crew.

Jamal: Actually I don’t think i can repeat this. (what Jamal said)

Then Jamal and Bassam hang out whilst Bassam drones on about game points or points couched in politspeak mixed with psychobabble.

Then lo and behold, in the shake of a rat’s tail Jamal is practising saying:
“I will take that under advisement” in the mirror.
This is his learned line from his brother as what to do in the even of not liking what the Shaykh has to say.
(instead of torturing or killing him)

Hey it’s the Shahyky, Shaykh Rashid: he has all the right ideas whilst acting everyone else off the screen.  Surely he will die and or be killed soon.  Because dramatic rules demand that the officially good person will not live long.  So suitable mayhem may ensue.

However the Shaykh rather stonily demands that Walid absent himself forthwith.
Shaykh Rashid:
“You made friends of the people who drove me from my home..”

Well I am growing dramatically fond of Jamal.  May I mention that his military uniform is really funky supercool.

The Shaykh falls down when he gets up.  He recovers with grace and aplomb.  Still stealing absolutely every scene from under every body else’s noses.

Although Ihab held his own with the smouldering and craggy faced Shaykh as they both suffered oddly  Las Vegas neon lighting as giant heads, inside the car.

General Tariq: (explains the tactics for clearing the square)
“It will take a whole day of scrubbing to get the Plaza back to normal..”
The General smothers his smirk whilst not being able to resist a triumphant glance at Bassam.

Now Bassam is explaining the intricacies of democracy and elections to Jamal.
Bassam:
“And when they get to know you, they will be falling in love with you..”
Jamal:
“So we are going to win this?”
Bassam:
“I think we can” (ha ha)

Jamal is jealous!  He gets asked to be on Sixty Minutes on TV.
Jamal watches TV: (60 Minutes)
“Spending a day with the Shaykh is like following a rock star!”

Jamal to his bodyguard/ driver:
“The Norwegian President has asked to meet with me alone..”
Uh huh.

Layla to Bassam:
“Let me remind you, I have been in the public eye since I was eighteen, I know what to do when the cameras are on and what to do when they are off..”

Jamal: is giving a speech, written for him by Bassam.
Jamal is playing a great part of someone slowly coming to life supposedly and acting like a newly energised robot.

The Press/ TV Interview for “Sixty Minutes”.
Amira:
Does a killer job.

General Tariq:
“Crazier things have happened!”


Jamal:
“Ha ha, I did not know that the Shaykh had a sense of humour like that..”
“I like him, I would not vote for him but I like him..”0
Later.
Jamal awatches the Shaykh on TV:
Shaykh Rashid:
“Jamal is like a lion, but his brother is the lion tamer..”
he continues:
“he knows wise Counsel when he sees it..”

Words you never expected Jamal to say:
“The polling”.
Jamal actually looks like he is going to cry. Over his percentage.
Jamal:
“Thank you all very much for your support, encouragement and patience..”
to the somewhat surprised Palace meeting.

Bassam looks down at the floor when served by a woman (the Shaykh’s wife?) in Shaykh Rashid’s house.  Very polite and shows he knows all the customs.

Shaykh Rashid and Bassam.
Shaykh Rashid:
I really thought your father was the most extraordinary statesman..”
You are your father’s son..”

Jamal and the uhum, Norwegian Ambassador.
Her:
“With all my heart, Mr. President..”

Jamal is still wearing his enviable navy style gold braided Michael Jackson jacket.

Jamal is trying hard, even making jokes about votes:
“It is not easy holding onto thirty three percent of the votes!”

Jamal and Layla:
Jamal:
“Give me that love, here, now!..”
Phew.  I was getting worried about the balcony then.  (and how high it was)

Here Jamal comes, in his even cooler than his jacket, military beret.

Oh no.  Think Jamal is having a panic attack, in the loo.
Shaykh Rashid:
So, this is where you are hiding!”
Jamal:
“And my brother, Bassam, do you love him?”
Shaykh Rashid:
“You know what, there is not a morning in which I do not thank the Lord that I am not running against him!”
Uh oh.  Oh no.
Jamal:
“You think everybody loves you?”
Forgive me..”

Now Jamal is in the mood, now he has got his groove on..

Jamal waltzes down the corridor, grinning inwardly and semi-grimacing outwardly.  His mouth making ever perpetual writhing motions.  Unnervingly.

***


Review.

So Tyrant is still enjoyable I find.  Like I said it fairly bounces along.  If not like a rubber ball bouncing merrily at regular intervals perhaps more like a shiny metal pinball in those old arcade games.

The ball would shoot, rapidly from side to side, at diagonal intersections.  The ball would half settle, tantalisingly, into a concave hole.  Sometimes the stainless steel ball would drop, with a satisfying plop into that hole.  Hurray!  Lights would flash and many points gained.  Then, off the darting ball would go again tripped out of the nestling hole.

Such is the experience of watching Tyrant.  Possibly purposely so.  The glimmering lights of democracy beckon, at the 5,000 point bonus at the bottom of the pinball machine.  It all looks so easy.. But that little ball it just keeps rolling in all the wrong places.  Quantum mechanic forces. gravity.  Acceleration, down and up.  Planes of motion.

Bassam wants to play pinball carefully, seriously, patiently.  His brother Jamal however loses patience and is the one to lift the machine up by its front two legs.  Furious with the disobedience and infinite variations of the path of that small but seemingly stubborn, shiny silver ball.

***

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