Clarissima a day in the life of a tv watcher.london’s Newsletter Number 4.

Flammarion
THE FLAMMARION
https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Flammarion.jpg

from Wikipedia:
English:

"The Flammarion engraving is a wood engraving by an unknown artist that first appeared in Camille Flammarion's L'atmosphère: météorologie populaire (1888). The image depicts a man crawling under the edge of the sky, depicted as if it were a solid hemisphere, to look at the mysterious Empyrean beyond."

" The caption underneath the engraving (not shown here) translates to "A medieval missionary tells that he has found the point where heaven and Earth meet..."
Date 1888
Source Camille Flammarion, L'Atmosphère: Météorologie Populaire (Paris, 1888), pp. 163
Author Anonymous"



Clarissima a day in the life of a tv watcher.london's Newsletter for the 12th & 18th of August of the year 2017.
& Includes a mention of the series Kacak, series One.

Previously unpublished Archive Material.



These Newsletters will detail the story of how exactly I ended up watching what I am watching now in the year 2018.
Clarissima the Scribe

The 7th day of June in the year 2018.
London,
United Kingdom.
 
 
© Copyright 2018.  Clarissima.  All rights reserved.
This work is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. 


Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be an infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly. 


 All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy or any information storage and retrieval system without permission in writing from the author.


The moral right of Clarissima to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1998
 


 Clarissima a day in the life of a tv watcher.London's Newsletters



 




For all those who thirst for knowledge and doth loveth the art of public entertainment throughout the lands..




Hear Ye, hear Ye, to all those who loveth the art of public entertainment throughout that lands:

Clarissima is the scribe who doth writeth the Newsletters from her crumbling  castle  where she doth watcheth the public entertainment for vieweth and doth write thereof.  




Such writing doth describeth these arts.  




All for the perusal of peoples who doth loveth such entertainment, throughout the close and far away lands. 
 

12th August 2017.



 So having finished Filinta and mourned, metaphorically briefly, for the loss of the immersively wonderful other world in time filled with style, suspense and Victoriana of every kind

 (plus romance, heartbreak, political intrigue and machinations aplenty) 




I wandered aimlessly around. In the deep recesses of Netflix and my every lengthening randomly added to list.
 Although I was aware that the next suggested series after Filinta, another Turkish, possibly gargantuan series, was beckoning to me appealingly.







From the bottom right hand side of the Netflix screen. At the end of Filinta. Finally.  Ertugrul: Resurrection it said.
 However the first twenty minutes or so of Resurrection was enough for me to realise that I had reached peak proselytising.  It's a shame, really it is. 




 Because I know how much I like long series.  As in super duper long.  You have a reliable story or drama.  To watch every night.  For absolutely ages. 




 There is a whole different and longer progression in the story and the characters: over time. You can get lost, I would have said quite literally. 
But clearly literally lost in that world cannot be true. But it feels like it. Metaphorically so. Ah well.
 However on the evidence of several episodes I made what I felt was a principled and protective decision.  
I had already done the whole officially evil Christian bit whilst watching Filinta. And don't even mention the Catholics. The favourite bete noire of them all: in dramas these days. 







 Whilst the other side are like a Disnified Snow White incarnate, half imagined tiny tweeting birds, circling like when Snow White was doing her housekeeping, all around their various heads. 




And particularly the hero.




And the magical supposedly sensitive mystic, that impossibly wonderful and loving hero meets along the way.
Postscript.
It's just a drama, I kept reminding myself whilst watching Filinta, whilst forcing myself to take not just one, but two (metaphorical & objective) steps back.

However:take away the likeability of the characters and I would award Filinta, if I was doing so: Propaganda points of 9.5.

However I have decided that one historical Turkish drama (pro-Ottoman and clearly anti-Western Christian) is my limit. I refuse to watch another one, particularly one which begins by portraying the Crusaders as Resurrection does.

I have checked. I am not the only one to notice this obvious bias in Resurrection.

Filinta has so many examples of this bias along with obvious proselytising that they are too numerous to mention here, but one just one example is the implication throughout that The Ottomans invented absolutely everything: 

"one thousand six hundred and seventy three"! as proudly claims a character of the number of his inventions at one point in the drama.

Much as I loved the series otherwise.

Take away the likeability of the characters and I would award Filinta, if I was doing so: Propaganda points of 9.5. 




 


18th August 2017.



Yep.  So sadly turning down Resurrection in spite of the glorious spectacle of multiple bearded variously handsome men dressed fetchingly in furs and bounding around on white horses, rather than become possibly brainwashed and or fully converted, I set off once again.  




Down those long and lonely, dark roads. Or rather rows.  Of series available on Netflix.
 It has been this way for me for a while now.  I no longer watch TV.  I guess I should change my name.  Of a TV watcher.  




But I ain't advertising Netflix instead.  Plus it probably wouldn't be allowed.  




 Let's think of it as dramas you watch on a television style screen.  How about that.
 Oh yes, I'm currently back on my latest Turkish Television series kick.  Hurray! No blood.  I can just shield my eyes from the fights.  
There is always emotion and intense, romantic scenes in Turkish TV series with accompanying admittedly loud emotional music.  
 In Filinta  I had to keep turning the sound up and down.  Which action had the unfortunate habit of creating a volume bar that blocked out the subtitles. 
 At the same time I am doing all this so I can properly hear the dialogue. Even though it's in Turkish. 
Which does sound a bit daft to relate.  I know.
 I would like to reproduce here, whilst clearly stating that the following phonetic reproductions of repeated Turkish words I have learnt: is done with a fondness and affection. 
Plus, please note they are spelt phonetically, not correctly, as in I am writing them just as they sound.  To me..

Avet: "Yes".


Aday: "Come/ go?".


Tamon: "OK".


Anay: "Mother".


Oblone: "Sister


Kazim/ kazeem: Approximate meaning "Dear, sweetie". Not cousin as I first thought.


Chook as in Chook, chook, chook : Much, many a lot really, very much".


Ashcarn: Welcome.


Yael!: Come in. 
This was my first favourite Turkish word in Filinta.  Used prolifically in series 1.  


Bak: But/ because.


Ah/ eh?  Said questioningly. Absolutely anything.
 
 


KACAK
English translation: The Fugitive.

Series One.

In Turkish with English subtitles.

On Netflix in the United Kingdom.
Note. There are three series of Kacak however unfortunately only series One is translated into English.



 So did I mention that I am watching Kacak and that series is what I finally found in the dull corridor rows of the annals of Netflix. I love Netflix.  Netflix is the televisual land in which I now dwell.
 And Kacak is seriously good. And it just keeps getting better and better.  It's like the Turkish Godfather met Dirty Harry met a Turkish soap opera.  Of the very best kind.
 So I'm at the beginning of episode 42 now having had to forget the episode description because at some point they stopped making any sense at all.
At first i was thinking that they were super spoilery. And started worrying over the things that were going to happen.  But these things never happened. And names were linked and mentioned that hadn't yet appeared. Very odd.
 Either there was a mistake in the names in translation which seems unlikely or these are the episode descriptions for a later series.  
 Who knows.  Who cares. A similar thing happened with the Filinta episode descriptions too.  In Filinta's case they started lagging behind in time.  In the plot. And stayed the same for quite some time. 










No matter I didn't care.  I knew where we were in terms of the story. Although sometimes the episode description  pictorial still for the next episode: gave something away..
Here endeth Newsletter Number 4.
 


to be continued



 








All for the perusal of peoples who doth loveth such entertainment, throughout the close and far away lands.

Clarissima a day in the life of a tv watcher.london’s Newsletter Number 3

This Newsletter covers the day of the 4th August 2017.Previously unpublished Archive Material.



These Newsletters will detail the story of how exactly I ended up watching what I am watching now in the year 2018.





 An enormous online library of my full & latest reviews along with a 7 year back-catalogue which is metaphorically named:

 Clarissima's Compendium of Reviews

 can be found here: just use the search bar to look for a series.






Clarissima the Scribe
The 6th day of June in the year 2018.
London,
United Kingdom.
© Copyright 2018.  Clarissima.  All rights reserved.
This work is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law.
Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be an infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.
 All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy or any information storage and retrieval system without permission in writing from the author.
The moral right of Clarissima to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1998
For all those who thirst for knowledge and doth loveth the art of public entertainment throughout the lands..

UPDATE ON NASHVILLE.

The final series.

  (author's note-my newsletter from London used to be called Quick note to my readers on my blog clarissima-a day in the life..) 

So what can I say about Nashville.  That I haven't already signalled in this tome of a quick note already. As in Nashville generally descending into the sinister somehow, soup of seriously slushy mush-of emotion. 

Yes, a veritable tsunami of emotion has descended upon us lately: clearly dictated by some universal edict from upon up high.  


We must henceforth, as a population: be subjected to a a deluge of emotion.  Covering and affecting everything we have formerly known.  Not just in the real world: or rather the world we are offered up to experience as viewers of everything on screen.  But I digress.


Sadly, this curse of hyper emotional subjectively based judgemental rinse: has become a deluge.  All terrestrial TV/ television including the News has succumbed.  Been ruined.  And so it continues. 


Even reality shows have fallen into the craggy quagmire. Strange.  I'm sure some kind of ironic statement somehow exists within that descent of an already meta-reality into achingly uncomfortable reality.
But a reality unfortunately saturated so heavily in replicated half or is it whole emotion.


Or in a nutshell as experienced in or via the viewing experience: as total and utter cringe.  Toe curlingly so.

And so it was with Nashville.

Yes, they took away toe-tapping, black Stetson wearing, all round rock star god status and Country Western singer: like Luke Wheeler for a start.


4th August 2017.


Well I say TV watcher when strictly speaking I am now longer watching terrestrial television. No channels at all in fact.
Oh wait-Nashville on record.  Since it's sadly become a bit of a chore.  To watch.

But then that state of affairs has happened to pretty much every drama series and a soap opera, Eastenders. That I used to watch.
Come to think of it, documentaries fell by the wayside too. Long ago.  Yep. I have stopped watching them all.
Why? Because art became poisoned with propaganda. 



I feel like I'm watching some perpetual government channel.  Staffed and written by some kind of Pravda-like scribes.  Almost high priests and priestesses of morality emotion and hate. Or maybe that's just the News. 



But I digress.  Did I mention that comedy, satire, parody, surreal humour too: all fell by the wayside long, long ago?


So to cut a long story short or two rather weary, reluctant digressions..

Since to talk about propaganda seems a flat heavy word and to discuss it within a drama risks doing the very thing which which I reject: which is poisoning the very review itself. 



Doing the propaganda's work for it. 

In whatever (further twisted) way.  


This it's what known as a Catch-22 situation.  You would have to know the phrase.


So what to do? I don't want to  keep on encountering the same conundrum as described above: every time I watch and write about a drama.  Plus, the experience is boring.  So I am striking out further afield..

I am currently on an Endemol Shine Productions (which are Turkish) kick. Which means I watched Intersection 1 & 2, then Filinta, then back to Intersection new series 3.

to be continued.

Clarissima a day in the life of a tv watcher.london’s Newsletter Number 2



Flammarion






THIS NEWSLETTER COVERS THE MONTHS OF JULY AND AUGUST OF THE YEAR 2017.
Previously unpublished Archive Material.
These Newsletters will detail the story of how exactly I ended up watching what I am watching now in the year 2018.
 
Clarissima the Scribe
24th day of May in the year 2018.
London,
United Kingdom.
 
 
MADE IN CHELSEA
Series 12.

Television channel description:

"A reality show following the lives of twenty-somethings living in Chelsea, West London"
Television Channel E4 in the United Kingdom.

Since then (after trying the series Cardinal) I have been saddened to see the descent into emotional mush: of my much loved light hearted reality type shows.   Like Made In Chelsea.  Or not a reality show as such: Nashville.  





No. What have they done. First: Eastenders fell to the body snatchers.  I might have been next.  I had to stop. 


Made In Chelsea being now variable at the best of times but especially now without the fizz of the ever effervescent character of Lucy,  Oh well.


Then: Made In Chelsea actually did an odd thing and nearly if not just a little bit, morphed into actual reality.  As we watch bite sized pieces of the grand and tumultuous love story of Jamie and Frankie.  


Plus: Olivia and the interesting and irascible but ever gentlemanly, Julius. They are best friends. And then there is..but it will take too long. 


If you watch then you'll know.  If you don't then you probably won't be reading this anyway.


Yes, things got real in edited pieces.  Jamie as a character having grown up lately: before our eyes. Becoming a wise and calm adviser: to his now (comparatively) more reprobate friends.  


Jamie you see, having finally bended/ bent to the will of his fair lady love. Oh she of the Bergman-like looks looking like she could really be an avant garde actress: in a stylish Swedish movie.


But I digress.


But Made In Chelsea went all syrupy.  Right at the end. At the baby shower.  When someone (I should be able to remember but believe me-my mind went blank) sang an incredibly slushy song.  Which all the characters danced to.  Or hugged each other and smiled.  


But the music was so slow. And the slushiness just went on forever. And everybody was still smiling.  


If I had been there I'd have snuck out the door. To  escape from the saccharine overload.  it was an emergency evacuation situation.  Of toe curling cringe.




NASHVILLE

Television channel Sky Living 1 in the United Kingdom.


Oh yes and in Nashville everyone went soppy too. They are all having emotional (and necessarily meaningful) emotional journeys.  To the right place, I suppose.  


Bring back Luke Wheeler and his black cowboy hats.  And boots.  


However sweet songstress Scarlett is looking slightly doe-eyed at the eponymous and officially English Damien.  Of the curly hair and Captain Blackbeardish grin.


I am trying to think of any other series I have tried since then but nothing springs to mind. 


I search on Netflix occasionally and add randomly chosen interesting looking things: to my list.  




 

INTERSECTION/ KORDUGUM 
Netflix in the United Kingdom 
Two seasons/ two series.  
In Turkish with English subtitles. 
Update-series three has just recently added to Netflix. 


For some reason Netflix wrote to me about a series called Intersection. Which was weird since I distinctly remember looking at Intersection.  But not adding it to my list.  Does Netflix know everything? 


But I digress.


They, Netflix, wrote to me to tell me that there was a second series.  Of Intersection.  OK since this is a strange confluence of events: I am going back. To Intersection..


 MY FIRST REVIEW OF INTERSECTION/ KORDUGUM

So here I am, at series two, episode approximately, ten I think.  Now be warned, and you would have thought I would have noticed this earlier: but I didn't.  I was that engrossed.  I suppose.  

My discovery was, much later, that each episode is around two good long hours long..


Now Intersection is a Turkish television series and is like a grandiose soap opera-writ large.  Well, that's what you think, at first..


If the first episode seems to get off to a shaky start: stick with Intersection.  You will be more than pleasantly and surprisingly: rewarded.

But then you have to watch till the end of episode one: to find out what happens in the cliffhanger moment which we see at the very beginning..





INTERSECTION-FINAL REVIEW

Series One & Two

Nooooo.  It can't be over..I still have the music going round in my head. I know the song off by heart. Well I say song, when the song is silent. It becomes a song-throughout.


So I loved Intersection.  I will have to find out if there's another series. It could be said to have ended on a cliff-hanger..


Yes, Intersection is slow moving.  But the series is a builder.  A grower. As Dj's used to call it.  

Things may seem a bit soap opera-y at first.  But do not fail to prevail: since there is some very suspenseful action intertwined beneath. And within..



Postscript.

For once: there are equally good and rounded parts for men in this drama. As there are for women.  

Indeed the hero is a man.  And he gets to be eponymously handsome (as well as seriously so) and run the full gamut of emotions.

He, the hero, Ali Nefat Karusu and his chauffeur, Ibo, were my favourite characters.

So after Intersection I discovered that there is a series three.  But beware. If you look up this information as I did-you may be subject to spoilers..



INTERSECTION/ KORDUGUM Series Three.

So woe is me I fairly OK quite literally: zoomed through Series 3 of Intersection/ Kordugum. And that is at 2 and a half hours long per episode! Careful, or you will find half your life gone, or rather day.  


Since you sat down to watch an episode at somewhere around lunchtime, then find it's 8 0'clock.  And you sat down to watch what happened next.

In that second half of the episode where you stopped last night. 

 And you completely forgot to have your dinner.




 
EASTENDERS

A British long running soap opera set in the East end of London.
Television channel BBC One. Several times a week.



Now I am looking for a new series.  There seeming to be a lot more time available now.  Since I deserted Eastenders. 


Considering that Eastenders is only half an hour long: this contradiction in my perception of it's length shows just how Godawfully dystopian Eastenders had become.  

But I digress.

Yes, when no longer appears the helpful BBC sign at the end of the programme offering help and a phone line for the issue that was the storyline in the programme: If you have suffered this problem: x, y or z.


Well now that no longer appears because the episode is one long, multifarious or multiple issues.  And the characters all spout the correct political dogma. 


The approved words with which we must deal with this officially meaningful situation. Etc.


The creepy thing about embedding all this baloney in a soap opera: is that we are vulnerable because the characters are our metaphorical imaginary friends to to speak.  

There is emotion brought into the bargain. Easier to slide the propaganda in. When we are officially emotional.




FILINTA.

Netflix in the United Kingdom.

Two Series.  In Turkish with English subtitles. 

Feeling kindly towards Turkish series possibly after watching Intersection, I decided after some humming and hawing (well not literally but metaphorically speaking) to try something on my list called Filinta. 

I had initially stipulated to myself that I want a series with at least two seasons/ series.  One is too short. Two is bare minimum.  

More than two is even better.  But not always.  I mean look what happened to Once Upon A Time..

On further examination I discover the rather amazing fact: that Filinta has eighty something episodes for series one. And sixty something for series two.  Great stuff.  I'm good to go..


Filinta, a full review of series One & Two, can be found on this website. Accompanying opening credit sequence video is included. 

 



THE CLIENT LIST.  An American series. 
Netflix in the United Kingdom.


I did briefly experiment with the Client List.  It does have Jennifer Beales. And Sybil Shepherd. Those two actresses being my main reason for checking this series out.  

Now Jennifer Beals as I once surmised, in my reviews of The Chicago Code (i think that was what it was called) surely has the secret to the elixir of life. Since she remains ever youthful.  Just like in Flashdance.  Well to our eyes anyways.


A lot can be forgiven for a heroine who dances by night and welds by day. What can I say.  Her welding outfit was amazing.  Jennifer rocked it.


Then there is Sybil Shepherd, always a delight to see, here she is in a mad wig. A wig which may well be the sister to: the one on Jennifer Beale's head.  


Wigs notwithstanding Sybil Shepherd is as brilliant as always. Jennifer Beale or rather her character: is passable.


An interesting as in slightly 1970's VHS video storyline beckons.  Hard times hit for Jennifer/ her character's name who just happens to be a masseur. Or is it masseuse.  Wouldn't want to get the gender wrong.  Would I.  Who knows.  Who cares. 

So I think we can guess pretty much what is soon about to happen.

Now I can spot the tiresomely de rigeur now: female empowerment theme from a long way off..


But still, this story could be interesting. It's looking like we're going to be saved the gory details.  

Yet it's not long before things descend into emotional claptrap.  Sadly. 

As Jennifer/ Her character, who very fortunately has extremely handsome clients, is soon advising them on how to work things out with wifey.  Back home.  

Ahh.





WICKED CITY   
A Box set on my Virgin Media TIVO box.   
(no I do not work for Virgin) 
Pilot episode One Series One.


Detectives Jack Roth and Pablo Contreras track a killer who targets aspiring starlets in Los Angeles, and a struggling journalist may be the killer's next target.


Fairly promising on the evidence of one episode. 


 This drama is set in the 1990's or it might be the 70's.  Deliberately retro dramas seem to mix and match the two periods.  

Suffice to say the Detectives look buttoned up and uncomfortable to our eyes: in regulation terrible tight suits and beige (sort of) shirts.  

This was before the word taupe was invented and sneakily made beige into cool. 

 
This phenomenon of the transformation of beige come to think of it may well be related to the obsession with Magnolia paint.  At that time.  Was that the 90's or the 70's?  I'm not sure. 

Surely the 70's was the king of orange, burnt orange and sickly green. Which was lovingly called Avocado.  

The orange could come in the form of madly psychedelic wallpaper.  Made of Rorsch-like mutant blobs and swirls.  

Now I always knew that all this was terrible. And magnolia was just cream and the psychedelic wallpaper was all wrong. So wrong it should have been illegal. 



Postscript.

It is weird that I was convinced I had written more about Wicked City but clearly I didn't.  

Because my imagined further review did not exist. On paper. Apparently it was all in my head.  But I remember the words. Roughly. 

I was gonna say that I wasn't entirely convinced by the character of the enigmatic and urban would-be murderer.  Mainly on the basis of remembering him from Gossip Girl. Which is, admittedly, unfair.

Yes, I couldn't get the image of the teenagerish but often come to think of it, convincingly evil anti-hero from Gossip Girl out of my head.  

But then that actor is probably older now.  Yet still. He looks the same.  A wee bit wooden. Of countenance and stance.

Then there is an interestingly dark and creepy story transpiring around someone officially unexpected that you were expecting to be the victim. Our first hint of this eerie situation arises over an encounter with a spider..

In spite of all these superficially interesting things as described so far in my viewing of this series: I ditched. 

There was a possibility of a pleasing and different vintage style of drama: which sadly didn't transpire for me. Instead the would-be retro staging just seemed stereotypical and dull.

OK.  In short, I really didn't like the whole thing with the spider.  And certain initially surreal followed by severely sinister events surrounding it.

I can say no more..


pps.

I did find myself musing on the tiresome possibility that perhaps women characters are not even allowed to be the victim anymore.




 

to be continued in Clarissima a day in the life of a tv watcher.london's Newsletter Number 3.




  




Here endeth Clarissima a day in the life of a Tv watcher.London's Newsletter Number 2.




All for the perusal of peoples who doth loveth such entertainment, throughout the close and far away lands. 

Newsletter from London Number 1: what I have been watching on English TV/ television and Netflix in the United Kingdom. From The day in the life archives. Unpublished work up to now..

 

Clarissma a day in the life of a tv watcher.london's Newsletter Number 1.
A Newsletter from London: what I have been watching on English TV/ television and Netflix in the United Kingdom.



Which television series including on Netflix, I have been watching..



Quick note to my readers started 10th May 2017 to 4th June 2017.
MAR DE PLASTICO
Netflix in the United Kingdom.
In Spanish with English subtitles.

So I finished Mar de Plastico. Plastic sea in English, I am presuming. Or sea of plastic. I really should look it up. But hey, I know Spanish now. Or I think I do.

Some superficially schlock-y stuff: as previously described.

But once you get past the feeling that someone is going to start singing “Summertime” like they were in Porgy and Bess: this series warms up very nicely. Takes off from the ground running in fact: albeit appearing to amble at a leisurely pace..

The only downside of watching what turns out to be an absolutely (overall anyway) excellent series: is thinking what on earth to watch next.

This page of prose sounds like an exciting build up to announce that I did just that: find another intensely suspenseful murder mystery. But unfortunately this is not the case. This time.

Because Mar de Plastico is a hard act to follow. As was The Undertaker/ Das Blatter. It’s a shame Netflix doesn’t update as quickly as viewers might like. With the next available new series. Which we know is already out. But I digress.

SNIFFER
Series One.
ON Netflix in the United Kingdom.

I did find however, an enjoyable Russian series called Sniffer. Now I am quite into Russian series. Well purely on the basis of Silver Spoon. Being so good. Russian series are fresh and different and less cluttered with the preachy-teachy politicking that we all know.

Men chatting up women at work! Shock horror. Women flirt back! I think I might faint. In utter horror. Haven’t they heard of the isms and ists? Quick-send them to the Gulags! Double-time (it was a joke). They must be shown The Way.

Sacre bleau. Mon dieu. I think we may all have to go lie down in a darkened room. Call for some Laudanum. That will help.

Whilst we fan ourselves with our dainty hands. Or delicate fans (not sure if they had them in Victorian times but you get the gist).

Yes, as we recover our damaged sensibilities from such indelicacies/ indelicate sights. Quivering on our day bed, an embroidered chaise longue, with drooping fluted pale hands on forehead..

Until we recover, but I digress.

Russian series also have cool and funky music in the credits. You might find yourself singing along. Or maybe it was just that the laudanum was really rather good.

So now that I have finished Sniffer, what on earth am I going to find to watch? The herd of good and interesting series (it’s a metaphorical herd) is just going to keep getting thinner.. I just know.

Agent Raghev, Intersection, The Legacy Series three (now finished) the end of this series of Made In Chelsea.
MADE IN CHELSEA
Channel E4 on English television.

The end of (this series of) Made In Chelsea. I avoided the end of season party. Since the host is always unconscionably cruel. To the cast. And he actually think’s it’s funny. Leave them alone: they all went to boarding school. Probably. Around the age of eight.

AGENT RAGHAV

Netflix in the United Kingdom.
In Hindi with English subtitles.

Agent Raghav had been put on my randomly chosen list of series that looked interesting. it could have been quite good. It looked like it could be good.

A crime investigation series set in India. But it was a bit silly. I did watch a whole episode though. Because I was thinking the series might warm up.

This series reminded me of the series The Saint, with Roger Moore (R.I.P). Except that everybody is Indian.

When there is an important or meaningful moment: everybody suddenly stands still. Then over dramatic music plays. Just like in the old series like the Saint. Hilarious.

They, the stock still characters who could be playing the statues game or the more recent mannequin challenge: just stare at each other. Or into space. At us. Then the camera goes in for a close-up.

That moment is often when the twangy music plays. To denote that everything, indeed everyone, is supercool. Just like in The Saint. Although it was always The Saint himself who was the most supercool. And so it is here, with Agent Raghav..

So after a fairly enjoyably silly episode of Agent Raghav (although it could well turn out to be better than I think) I continued my ceaseless search . For good drama..

CONTINUUM

An American series.
 Sy-fy Television Channel in the United Kingdom.

I noticed that my favourite sci-fi series on Netflix. Continuum, is currently showing on terrestrial as in regular TV/ television in the UK. All four series.

 

 

THE LEGACY/ ARVINGERNE

In Danish with English subtitles.
 Was On Sky Arts Channel in the United Kingdom.

Not sure if I mentioned that I finally finished Arvingerne. (series three) Bit of a slog really. But hey, it’s in Denmark and is all very arty. There are little cabins in the garden and there’s the Grønnegards.

 

 

SCHITTS CREEK

An American series.
 Netflix in the United Kingdom.

I see that Schitts Creek has a third series. Recently added.

Postscript.

Myself I started to suspect Schitts Creek-much as I enjoyed it at first-as being one of those initially at first superficially politically incorrect shows that are actually masquerading as one: because it then starts dealing with so-called officially important issues that we were all hoping to escape (under cover of or via the means of comedy). Well I was.

 

 

FAUDA

In Hebrew with English subtitles.
 Netflix in the United Kingdom.

I dipped briefly into Fauda. But I wasn’t in the mood. For something that looked pretty heavy. As in intense and realistic. We want escapism. Well I do. I probably would have watched this series normally. Just on the grounds of having loved the Israeli series Hatufim. Series One and two.

Not sure what happened to series three. Hatifum, or Prisoners of War, it has never been on Netflix. What a shame. They could put up Maison Close as well, that’s missing. From Netflix. Both figuratively and in reality. In my opinion. But I digress.

 

 

NIGHT WATCH

An American series.

Netflix in the United Kingdom.

Nightwatch looked mildly interesting mainly because I was confusing the title with Night Shift, the Icelandic series.

But no, this series is about a returning American soldier, from Afghanistan. Who returns to work in a Hospital in the USA as a Doctor in the Emergency room. We presume he was a soldier surgeon. Sort of a new age Mash (series). But I digress.

I only watched about ten minutes of Nightwatch. Mainly because an early scene shall we say: was just a bit too gory for me. As in gurgling blood. A very large, deep looking hole. Of blood.

I swear this blood spurted like a small geyser. At one point. Whilst our mysterious motorbike riding hero performs a magical medical trick. Upon a victim by the side of the road.

You just know that the supremely handsome surgeon: has learned that medical trick back in Afghanistan.

Oh yes and shortly thereafter the be-stubbled, black leather jacketed hero (I don’t really know these details for sure-I am just presuming) swans into the ER. As they call it in America. Short for emergency room. We call it Casualty. But I digress.

He is all bloodied up. From attending the trauma case on the road. So he whips off his shirt. Puts on a clean one. Over his Abs to the power of 64. Squared.

That was minorly distracting but disappointingly generic. At the same time.

SHADES OF BLUE

& WYNONNA EARP.
Two different and separate series, which I decided to review together.
Shades Of Blue is on Sky Living television Channel in the United Kingdom. Wynonna Earp is on the Sy-fy television channel in the United Kingdom.
 A combined sort of phonetically described extremely minute review.

Please note that I have combined this description of both series together as it serves as a generally descriptive summary of the first ten to twenty minutes approximately of each series.

The heroine:

“Grrrrr.”

“Grrrrrr.”

“Grrrrr.”

“Snarl”.

Heroine takes a break in the bar and knocks back shots. Most likely with a black, slightly fringed leather jacket on. Talks to the bartender.

Randomly inserted saccharine interlude. Where the heroine deals with her sweet teenager daughter and or saves a young woman/ child/ wimpy man (insert metaphorical damsel in distress as necessary).

Heroine: (biff baff boff signifying punching sounds)

“Biff”.

“Boff”

“Baff”

“Snarl”.

Repeat as often as required. Sometimes there might be a really ugly demon/ man.

Cue: (Demon)

“Arrrgh groar, arghh”.

Heroine:

“Grrrr.”

“Grrr.”

“Grrr”.

“Snarl”.

“Biff baff boff”.

(this can be at the gym punching a sparring partner or the eponymous punch bag).

CARDINAL.

BBC Four television channel in the United Kingdom. 
A Canadian series.
(was on Saturday nights @ 9pm)

So Cardinal is on BBC Four and taking that Saturday night slot traditionally reserved (well at intermittent intervals in time) for foreign language/ subtitled dramas. Back in the day when such showings used to be exciting.

That was back when such series were good. It seems so long ago. That’s why I say back in the day.

Sadly, at some point of watching Beck, followed by Modus, followed by Department Q: The Keeper of Lost causes (and the two other films in that trilogy) I turned against Scandi-noir drama. OK, strictly speaking these are several points.

Oh yes then there was Das Blatter/ The Undertaker (series one), but that was Swiss-German. I’m just so tired of the generic themes. You start to notice a repeating pattern.

Cardinal has all the right ingredients I suppose yet is lazily superficial and generic. I would list all the tiresome themes or politically correct collections of tick boxes. But that description in itself could conceivably be a spoiler.

Let’s just say: maverick gravelly-voiced Detective, eponymously righteously fearsome (by default) female Detective/ side-kick.

The case. The (forgotten by everyone but the Detective) case. From long ago..

Now all this could be good overall. Perhaps I was just not patient enough. But, I just got a bit bored.

Dialogue from Cardinal:

Gravelly voiced world weary Detective to fearsomely righteous woman side-kick/ Detective:

“Any leads?” (on the phones)

Her:

“No, just a bunch of useless racists”!

(but of course-the stereotypically evil small-town folk so beloved of the BBC and all similar productions). That was my final cue to bail..

Nb. The Detective is the guy from one of The Killings (the American remake) who was running for Mayor. Senator or summat. He was just as underwhelming in that series. He has a severely gravelly voice at sotto tone/sotto-voiced drawl/ gravelly drawl..


Update on Nashville. The Final series.

So what can I say about Nashville. That I have not already signalled. Way back in this tome of a quick note already. As in Nashville generally descending into the sinister somehow, soup of seriously slushy mush of emotion.

Yes, a veritable tsunami of emotion has descended upon us lately: clearly dictated by some universal edict from upon high.

We must henceforth, as a population: be subjected to a deluge of emotion. Covering and affecting everything we have formerly known. Not just in the real word: or rather the world we are offered up to experience as viewers of everything on screen. But I digress.

Sadly, this curse of hyper emotional subjectively based judgemental rinse: has become a deluge. All terrestrial television including the News has succumbed. Been ruined. And so it continues.

Even reality shows have fallen, into the craggy quagmire. Strange. I’m sure some kind of ironic statement somehow exists within that descent of an already meta-reality into achingly uncomfortable reality.

But reality unfortunately saturated so heavily in replicated half or is it whole emotion. Or, in a nutshell as experienced in or via the viewing experience: as total and utter cringe. Toe curlingly so.

And so it was with Nashville.

Yes, they took away toe tapping, black Stetson wearing, all round rock star god status and country western singer: Luke Wheeler for a start.

 

to be continued in Clarissima-a day in the life of a tv watcher/london’s Newsletter Number 2

 

ILLUSTRATION at top of page:

THE FLAMMARION.

An engraving.

https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Flammarion.jpg

Quoted from Wikipedia:
(in) English:

“The Flammarion engraving is a wood engraving by an unknown artist that first appeared in Camille Flammarion’s L’atmosphère: météorologie populaire (1888). The image depicts a man crawling under the edge of the sky, depicted as if it were a solid hemisphere, to look at the mysterious Empyrean beyond.”

The caption underneath the engraving translates to:

A medieval missionary tells that he has found the point where heaven and Earth meet…

Date 1888
Source Camille Flammarion, L’Atmosphère: Météorologie Populaire (Paris, 1888), pp. 163
Author: Anonymous.

This image is in the public domain.