Clarissima a day in the life of a tv watcher.London’s Newsletter Number Seven

Newsletter from London Number 7




Monday 2nd October 2017.

So to cut a long story sort I have come to the awful conclusion that Scandi-noir is the most repressive propaganda of all.. Well about equal to the BBC's output. That's all I'm gonna say. Let's just say I had forgotten the politically correct clangers in the beginning of Black lake. Or rather I had swallowed them. Tolerantly I guess. 

It's always a balancing act now versus the amount of tiresome propaganda and the quality of the story. That is left. Is the story good enough to carry on? Basically. Is the question I often ask myself. Subconsciously now. Because this battle is so habitual. In most drama, but not all, thankfully, dramas these days. 


And boy, to get back to Black Lake did the political clangers start piling up. Again. No, really? I had even relaxed for a while. The clangers are so predictable that they are almost a spoof.


Friday 6th October 2017.

Yes, Black Lake may well be the last Scandi-noir drama I watch. They are now a strange mixture of sinister and almost stoopid. As in a spoof of their own selves. Or rather the genre has become a spoof of itself..

Boy, I'm stuck in this self thing. Series then. I'm sure you know what I mean.

And the sinister side is not the actual sinister side of the story. In Black Lake. Which does manage to hold our attention in it's general creepiness. It's flavour-the setting really does help. However simple that setting is.

No-the sinister side is the predictable politicking and the creepiness of the conformity of the characters. For me anyway. The way they all, pretty much except for the officially alternative heroine: speak, act and seem to even think, the same.

And I remember how I used to think that conformity was sweet. Even laudable. Now I think that conformity is creepy.

page 18 in yellow notebook.

Monday 9th October 2017.

Why, why why did I do it? Waste my time on watching another Scandi-noir drama on BBC4. Or, put in another way, why did I watch another Scandi-nor drama? Why did I watch BBC4? because in the end, not to mention the extreme length of time, as things on the BBC are experienced, it takes to watch it, Black Lake was just plain stoopid. Yes I spelt it that way on purpose.



Tuesday 10th October 2017.

I would have liked to say more about Black Lake and its ending. But such pronunciations could be spoilery. However let's just say the end was very annoying. But then so were the character progressions. or rather these progressions were illogical. But then predictable based on the usual stereotypes. I can pretty much cross people off the list or put them on the list: based on these stereotypes and what people look like. 99.9% of the time.

Thursday 12th October 2017.

So I have been watching Ezel for so very long now, on a continuous basis, that I am practically living in Ezel world. Dramatically speaking. it is wonderful to have something good and reliable to watch every night: particularly when that something to watch is a continuing story. Every night. Oh and consecutively following on in the dramatic story line too. Wunderbar. I love that experience. Of watching a story told over time.


Friday 13th October 2017.

So hip hip hurray, Riverdale is back! I was notified by Netflix, one reason, in fact the only reason I have, for not sharing a screen. And not paying at all! Oh well. But it's worth it, just for the emails. Because otherwise I would never know. About any new series on Netflix. Especially since now I have been dwelling in the land of television watching on Youtube. For so long. Watching Ezel. Which I first started watching on Netflix. The first series that is. Then searched for Ezel with English subtitles on Youtube and ?? My tortuous travels and travails through the complications of setting up Youtube. To watch on TV. Subtitled TV series on youtube: have been recorded.

They, the travails, are too tumultuous to relate.      Saturday 14th October 2017.

So I passed on Beck tonight on BBC4 because I realised that I had already seen this episode. And possibly the next few as well. Plus I'm so bored with Scandi-noir and BBC4. I crossed off BBC One and two from my list: long, long ago. As being the most severely strangulated propaganda present. On public service TV/ television. As the BBC would be described in America.


Sunday 15th october 2017.
So who wants to keep talking about propaganda. I don't. It's boring. That's why I no longer watch TV. Except for the occasional reality programme. Just for a laugh. However I gave up on Made In Chelsea on account of it having gone all hyper-emotional on me. 

I briefly watched the new series set in Ibiza but it was severely bland. As in all the characters are just a bit of a bore. Bring back Lucy. Spencer. Any one with a bit of fizz. Stephanie was effervescent and fun. But we haven't seen her for ages. Oh well. I just couldn't be bothered.

Yes now I just watch Celebrity Dating as my secret reality show secret. Although, unlike in earlier series that came up in my TIVO box search still set on a reminder for Safe House. Just like TIVO records anything to do with the word: Bridge. 

Please, please, if there's a new series of the Bridge ever again, don't let it be ruined, by becoming overtly propagandised, as described aeons above.

see this website clarissima-a day in the life for separate and full review of Safe House series One & Two. 
For convenience, here is a mini-potted Review of the English Series Two of Safe House.



SAFE HOUSE
Channel ITV in the United Kingdom.


Yes, so Safe House was in fact the second series of a thriller series on ITV called Safe House. The first one was passable yet stereotypical. And the second one was too. However both series, and I have written about series one, are still enjoyably watchable with a tiny hint of sinister. with some acting performances engaging and good enough to keep you watching. To see what happens. 

Although the denouement of the second series was disappointing and laughable. I felt. The main star of the second series is the hero and the character called John, who well actually both of them do: give a brooding and enigmatic performance. Of quiet charisma. 

The other, third star of the second series is a house. The safe house..Shame that they didn't make much more of it I thought. The wonderful huge stone house and its bleak and lonely setting.

Sorry to break into the atmospheric place here, where the safe house is and all: but I just can't help wondering why is it safe? I mean one house, with nothing around it, out in the middle of nowhere. Once its location has been discovered: what is safe about that? 

No other houses for cover or to escape into, and nothing else around. No cover in fact. Just seems really dumb to me. Didn't safe houses back in the day, of the cold war, or so fiction told us, used to be in nondescript office buildings? Called Bell, Candle and Sons. Or photographic supplies. Or something. The whole point was it looked nothing like it's purpose-the building that is.



Monday 16th October 2017.

So I continue to watch Celebrity Dating as light relief. At lunchtime, and delve back into the all encompassing world of Ezel, every night. Sometimes, because you have been watching the series so long and particularly when you have guessed that something sad is going to happen: you need a break. 

I really wish I had never read that Blog on Turkish TV series: which completely spoilered that plot. Of the second series. Well counted as the second series after the end of seis one on Netflix. At a mysteriously numbered final episode: of 72.

That is how Ezel is experienced in a watching it on Netflix. Series one ends on there and it transpires only later, that episode 72 belongs somewhere roughly in the following series. that you have to watch on YOutube.

However if you watch Ezel on Youtube right from the very beginning then series two starts on youtube episode 34. But is still titled series two. Don't ask me. To explain it. Beyond my theory that two Netflix episodes roughly equals one of the original turkish TV episode. ie. A Turkish tv episode was two Netflix episodes long. Something like that. 

I could write a book on watching Ezel on Youtube. I have a crib sheet. It helps to keep note. Especially when there are numerous parts of one episode. But I digress.

So as mentioned, I felt like a break from Ezel due to some forecasted impending doom. And I was saving up Riverdale, series two. episode one.


RIVERDALE SERIES TWO.
Tuesday 17th October 2017.

So Riverdale is a treat to watch. As in a visual feast for the eyes. Awash win painterly watercolour washed neon pastel, faded, burnt and neon colours. Truly a successful rendering of the comic book world made real. 

Although for those of us who remember the Archie & Veronica comics: see that cheerful set of stories have now been warped into horror instead. 
Things like this, that happen in Riverdale, never happened in the comics Archie & Veronica. 

I seem to remember that Archie & Veronika's day to day happenings were mainly centered around who they might be going with to the prom. That sorta thing. Who had a secret crush or not so secret crush on who: and so forth. Oh Happy Days.

Whereas in Riverdale compared to the comics is a whole darker alternate and cruel, reality..

Personally I feel sorry for the characters, in their reflections of the life of a teenager, in High School. circa 2016-2017.

Yes, social life was always, or could always. Be tough. You could get bullied. Hey, I got bullied a bit, in American High School, for having an English accent and a habit of asking if anyone had a rubber, in class. Well I didn't know, did I..

But then I wrote a poem that was in the School Magazine and they left me alone. But I digress.

OMG it must be hell to be a teenager. Or younger. Not only are you expected to be superficially perfect, you are expected to be emotionally and mindfully perfect too. Not mindful as in Buddhism. But intellectually. No, intellectually is not the right word either. Mentally, that's it. In the very way you think. 

So these youngsters, well at least in the prevailing Western Orwellian Groupthink that prevails: are expected to be perfect, perfect. Perfect. Perfect clones. Perfect looks. Perfect and all suitably corrected: inside. Emotionally and mentally: politically corrected. In fact. Poor them.



UPDATE ON RIVERDALE SERIES TWO. 
Including Episode Seven.
Nb. Please see:
 thispageleftintentionallyblankpublishingcompany.london 
for e-book Review on Riverdale

So I stuck with Riverdale series two in spite of it devolving into tiresome predicatable themes. It would be spoilery to mention them. However these righteously propagandised teachy-preachy themes in dramas: are annoying.

The surfeit of amped up emotion for example in a scene..For no real apparent reason. As in there is no real lead up to, or explanation for such a sudden deluge of emotion. Other than that character is upset, in that moment. Either on their own or upset at another person. But it all goes on to excessively long. 

My own theory is that dramas recently have become hyper emotional in character, and for the characters in them: all the better to slide that propaganda in. When you are all weak and emotional. No, really. 

Some of this surfeit of slush may just be incidental of course, perhaps part of the whole emotion led culture around at present. with the politicisation of everything.
But I digress.


Monday 23rd October 2017

EZEL Update.

So I am at the very end of Ezel now. One more episode to go. I am saving it. Because, and this is why you shouldn't? look up Ezel online, I know exactly what happens. Even Wikipedia spoilers Ezel. Don't go there. I think this is the last review I will do. I may stop doing these newsletters too. Because I think I've said it all now really. 

Long story short: 99.9% of all western and of course some other country's included, well all of the dram now has been either politically or emotionally corrected. or both. Corrupted, if you like. By ideology. And in doing so, to drama series, they, the makers, the eponymous they:have killed art. With propaganda.

The reason I like Ezel, and generally speaking, Turkish TV series, is that you are simply getting a story. Well in the modern Turkish series I would say. More. 

Much as I loved the historical series of Filinta and it will always have a special place in my dramatic memory and heart:objectively speaking it was chock full of propaganda. so was, more seriously so (on the basis of half an episode) Resurrection. 

So perhaps, for me anyway, I can only watch one historical series. Well it (Filinta) was about A hundred and something episodes long.

So Filinta, that said, Intersection, Kacak and Ezel were all rip roaringly wonderful series. Searingly intense,, emotional, exciting at times. Kacak being more fast paced and exciting in that sense: than the other series.

Yes, I like the stories, the heartache, the burials, the graves, the flowers growing on top. The equal treatment of the men as characters, along with the women, for once.

Yes, in Turkish dramas men are brave, heroic and therefore get to keep their masculinity. At the same time the men are allowed to be fully rounded characters and will cry, weep, crack up and cry. They hug and declare their love for their :"brothers" their mothers, their friends. without ever saying the words.

I feel like I should mention the women characters out of a fairness of description Even though I am personally bored to death with women characters generally. As I have previously described. Along the way. In my transcripts and reviews. 

It's just that I reached overload: on necessarily fearsome snarling women. That are there there purely for political agenda. Because they have been anointed as positive role models. For all women everywhere. Well except in those places where it really might help. But pretty sure those ladies can't get Netflix on TV. Not that I subscribe to the notion of role models in drama. I don't.

Who cares if it's a man or a woman anyway? When I ever needed a bit of extra swag in my walk: I used to channel Rick, in the Walking dead. Back, way back now, when the WD was still good. But I digress.

The point is for me, who is so fed up with women characters being at saturation point with them due to propaganda overload as described, yes for me to like any women characters at all in Ezel. they must be good characters. And they are.


Yes, men express themselves fully and properly in Turkish drama: emotionally, metaphysically, philosophically and poetically. As well as being heroically brave, compassionate and fiercely protective of their loved ones. 

That includes their family, mother and father who they often have an intense relationship with, especially a son with his mother. And on top of that their brothers, these are their men friends they consider to be actually their brother too. Like family. Just not biological brothers. That's all. 

Probably my favourite characters in Ezel were of course Ezel who put in an amazing performance as an actor (without giving too much away) and then Ali and Teflik. I can say no more. And of course the men characters have women friends and sisters. 

Sometimes a woman, with no family will ask a man friend if they can be sister and brother. There are excellent, brave and courageous women characters too. They are in no way supplementary to the men characters. 
 

Yes, in Turkish series there will be death and loss, funerals, past crimes, flashbacks, revenge. Love and loss and grand guignol, operatic style. Along with delicately painted day to day relationships of friends, brothers whether real or siblings, mothers and sons, fathers and daughters, and fatherhood. All of these relationships are dissected and discussed, taken seriously.

People pledge to never leave their loved one and (to) "never leave" them and "always be by your side". Hitmen discuss earnestly their honour, loyalty and duty. 

Probably my favourite line from Ezel was:"The murders are going on strike, tonight, we're going to murder whomever we like," "It's a revolution!".

Well not I'm not 100% sure of the character said that last bit.

There will be some point in the story, Ok maybe not all but most, Turkish TV stories, an orphanage. Stories of abandonment and loss of family.

Then there is often literary and poetry quotes, as mentioned previously. particularly in Ezel. And in Kacak. There will be a big beautiful red roofed house, up in the hills. Above Istanbul. 

The literary aspect and references to poetry and books is one of the things I like best about Turkish TV series. Although you do get to a point in Ezel where you have had enough of the wise sayings of a certain character: they stop. Luckily.

There is often some kind of mafia family in Turkish TV series. To one extent or another. They are never called that and of course they never call themselves that. In fact somebody jokes about the word in Ezel.

Whilst the dark side of the crime family's deeds are not glossed over and laid bare: at the same time they protect and serve their people. The leader and his men will dispense justice, when one of that part of the population that is loyal to that leader, come to him or his men with a problem. An injustice.




THE WALKING DEAD.
26th October 2017.

Oh yes and I'm afraid that i'm going to have to add The Walking Dead to the sadly growing pile of recent drama series, whether new or further series of the same series: that are now rubbish. Or more bluntly and most un-poetically, crap.

So many series that were once good, have now been ruined beyond recognition, from the original series you remember so fondly, by political correctness and or:emotional correctness. 

I always used to accept a certain amount of this: that was indefinable. As in terms of the amount of propaganda present. The deciding factor for me: was simply whether the story was good enough. As in captivating enough as a story: to be able to ignore the rest of the claptrap. As described above.

So this is how I have continued, and concentrated on the series that succeeded in flying above, or maybe under, the radar. 

But now I have reached the tipping point. Of propaganda versus story. Where the story has been squashed. And strangled. subverted to the strictures of the required over reaching requirements: of the modern day morality play. That that drama, if we can still call the series that: has now become.Instead. Of art.

Yes, there are black and white cowboy Western films with Doris Day singing in them, I propose, that are less sickly sweet and emotionally loaded, romantic violin music on top: than the series 8 of the Walking Dead.

end of October 2017.



A day in the life of a TV watcher.london’s Newsletter Number Six.

Full title: A Man Reading (Saint Ivo?)
Artist: Workshop of Rogier van der Weyden
Date made: about 1450. Sourced from Wikipedia August 2017.This image is in the public domain. 

 

 

 

 

A day in the life of a tv watcher.london's Newsletter Number 6.

Explanatory Introductory notes.

These newsletters relate in short note and diary form everything I watched on TV in the United Kingdom including on a computer screen from approximately the end of 2016 onwards. 

Please see the fixed Index called Clarissima's Compendium of Reviews or use the search bar to find full, in depth reviews of approximately 3,000 English language and international series that I watched in the U.K. from the year 2011 to 2016. 

This blog originally began to record my online discussion weekly forum comments in the Guardian newspaper during the time of a new appearance of foreign language shows in the United Kingdom in 2011 such as: 
Spiral, Forbrydelsen/ The Killing, Borgen, Wallander and many more.

The newsletters describe what happened after 2016, when I stopped writing full, in  depth reviews. I recorded my viewing experiences in these Newsletters instead, which will tell the story of how I came to be 
watching what I am now..

I am slowly bringing them up to date.

Clarissima
15th December 2019.
London,
United Kingdom.







Newsletter from London 2nd September 2017.

EZEL

So since pining in vain for the somehow to be resurrected by yours truly, return of Kacak and his merry band of men: I finally gave up on this possibility. and moved straight onto Ezel. OK after some humming and hawing. But not for long. 

Oh yes I tried Stranger which looked cool and stylish and was in Korean. However only 5 minutes or so of this drama looked a bit creepy and scientific for me.

OZARK.

I tried Ozark briefly too. Mainly because I thought, initially that Ozark was Turkish. because of the name. But Ozark is an American series. That is the name of the the place. Ozark. Finding this out I thought I would still give Ozark a chance. I say that not, for possible needed clarification, because it was American, but that I knew the drama was set in a small town. And this is a new series. Which tells me that there is a possibility of encountering the small town stereotype. 

On the other hand: nobody, possibly I propose, does small town dramas better than American drama. Like The Returned. Between. Teen Wolf. Riverdale. Pretty Little Liars, even though I ditched on it, I may go back on day. Then there are the idyllic, magical small towns of Once Upon A Time, Grimm, Good Witch, Witches of East End, actually I could be here for a while. I'm sure I have forgotten some.

However more recently, although this negative portrayal of the small town has always been present, particularly in BBC drama, people in small towns are always pictured just one step away form their supposedly stereotypical pitchfork. That is all I'm saying.

And so it was with Ozark. Plus the characters were both tiresome and hugely unlikeable. I mean the main characters. Of course we are meant to be horrified, along with the horribly predictable downtrodden wife, for example, when she meets the officially eccentric characters in the village. As does her horrible husband, along the way.

So I ditched.


Newsletter 2nd September 2017. continued.

Ezel is what I decided upon in the end. Did I mention, that 50 episodes in, Ezel is like Turkish Hitchcock. Ezel, well perhaps I shouldn't say too much since I'm on episode 50 something now, that this drama is suspenseful, stylish, (intensely emotional) heart-wrendingly emotional and intense.

There is a main story and there are multilayered stories all threaded throughout which are all related to the main character of Ezel..

Newsletter form London September 5th 2017.

What I like about Turkish TV series is that they don't find it necessary to have the eponymously fearsome and stonily snarling: female hero. Not just that; but at the the cost of male characters. Who I have been pointing out for a while now in politically corrected Western European drama: are denigrated, degraded and downgraded. Well unless they are an official positive role model. In which case he will be Jesus. On stilts. or even rollerblades. Or even a God-damned scooter. Or even a skateboard. But I digress.

Yes, the woman is always the hero, and unless the male character is officially and terribly right-on or anointed as saint on skates as previously described: he will be evil. He will be the mad murderer and or twisted rapist. Or if he is not a fashionable and suitably approved side-kick, he will be a snivelling, cowardly husk. A husk of a shell of a man.

OK, he might be a survivalist type. Or even a sniper. He might be allowed to pray. But he still has to be super duper cool. And down with the rules. The politically correct, rules. This was Shooter, first season really. These last few sentences. But then series Two was just drab. I couldn't be bothered.

Nor could I be bothered with Ozark. I couldn't bothered with Made In Chelsea, New series. I couldn't be bothered with season Two of Zoo. which I had really been looking forward too. And all I saw was a couple minutes glimpse: of a woman punching a pile of tyres. Oh no. A woman punching something. Not again.

I'm so bored with women heroes. I'm so fed up with the mistreatment of male characters. I actually avoid series now when the main character is a woman. I sigh when I still see that Netflix is offering me a whole row of series with the tiles headline: Women Who rule the Screen.



Newsletter from London 6th September 2017.


This includes an update on Nashville. (final series)
Yes, women who rule the screen. Or: Revenge of The Women Clones. As I have named this dire, dramatic phenomenon. And it's not just dramas. But TV advertisements, not that I see them anymore, except for the deadly drivel of the show formerly known as Nashville, still limping, over-emotionally on, through bucket loads, nay monsoon worthy floods of slush. On record.

Boy, do I wish they would put Nashville out of its misery now. Thank God all the (mostly ) good characters made it to dry land, got out early.

When I say mostly I mean well at least hunky guitar strumming and ever saturnine Deacon is still in Nashville. But they made him cry. Because even if something bad hasn't happened, every storyline and everybody in Nashville, has to be drowned in emotional mush. 

And yes, bar Deacon, all the old characters are gone. Long ago. Juliette perhaps might have made my good classification, long ago. But now she too has been bodysnatched, rehabilitated, reformed. By the emotional agenda loving blob. The blob....slushily squishing it's way:

"Squelch, squish, squit.."

And Scarlett, or rather her hairdresser, between series, cut her lovely long forever imaginatively braided, blond hair. And now she looks like a boy. 

You can tell it's one of those haircuts that you get talked into by the hairdresser, having already made the decision for the chop, which unfortunately only looks good in the hairdressers, with twenty minutes of artful styling. and several handfuls of anonymous gloop.

But when you go home an several days later, when you've washed it (or it just strangely sank) and you try and recreate this style: guess what? The magic it just hasn't transpired. You look like that pudding bowl haircut.. or a small elfin monk. After your Mum insisted on cutting it at home.



Newsletter from London 7th September 2017.


I know, I never got to the end or the point perhaps, of my theory of The Revenge Of The Women Clones: the attack of the women. But I will. Eventually. Possibly I started worrying that it could sound like I was maligning women. So perhaps I should say; this is not to malign women. I'm not. Just women characters.


Newsletter from London. September 9th 20177.

(later added note-this was written about the end of Ezel series One that I watched on Netflix-I didn't at first realise that there was a second series as Netflix does not have the second series and just ends on episode 71-this is quite a common practice with Turkish series on Netflix-they do not provide the second or third series-just the first one-this is why it is recommended to check for this before starting to watch the series as to whether there is a further series and can you get it in English subtitles)

So I am sad that Ezel has ended, all 71 episodes. Super duper wonderful stylish, suspenseful, fun. Though pelent dark and emotional too. As mentioned. As always, with Turkish TV dramas, I like the fact that men in these series get to be brave and heroic as well as emotional and upset too. Yes, gangsters cry. Sometimes.



Newsletter from London September 9th 2017.

So I have spent an inordinate amount of time researching the second series of Ezel. Warning: don't research this subject unless you want the whole final series completely spoilered. As in the true sense of the word: spoiled. Now I know the whole ending of Ezel and I really wish I didn't..

So the fruits of my research , spoiled as they are, told me that I could watch Ezel series 2 on Youtube, via a very kind translator from Turkey, well I am presuming. All you have to do is type in Ezel Season Two English subtitles.

Newsletter from London September 12th 2017.

So I am entirely obsessed with Ezel now, final series. Well you have to spend an insanely large amount of research effort watching youtube on a TV screen. For a start. I feel like I have an honorary degree now: in technical abilities required to get the Turkish TV series I wanted to see the end of successfully reproduced on TV, subtitled and running. Hot to trot. Of course it would have been a lot easier to watch it on my desktop.



So yes, my research on youtube on my tv satisfactorily along with ensuring, i am watching consecutive episodes Ezel series two: has reached intense proportions. of a degree level.

I now have a crib sheet with all the episodes listed numerically. Since the calamity of jumping from episode 36 to I think, 39 or 41. I hadn't noticed. that was reasonable because the episode I had leapt to followed on consecutively. In the videos. So that experience was really confusing. it was a while before I figured it out. That I had missed several episode.

Then I discovered, by checking online that there were episode numbers with up to seven parts.



Newsletter from London September 14th 2017.

yes, some episodes which are separate from the main set of episodes presented as series two: are missing. So yo have to search for them by number as follows: Ezel episode 37 English subtitles. Which will bring up another collection of Ezel series two episodes put up by Oraldhino. 

These are the missing episodes form the set of 88 episodes put up by Jana P. or more specifically, very kindly translated for us English speakers, form Turkish by both translators.

Just keep an eye on the episode numbers from the set of 88 episodes presented as the Playlist for series two. translated by jana P.

Because episode 36 jumps a couple and ends up on episode 39. In the set of 88. Then after discovering this: episode 39 then jumps to episode 41. That is when you have to research for the missing episodes: as described. Just type in a search with those keywords: Ezel Episode 437 english subtitles-series two. 

Then you see the subset of missing episodes in numbered parts. These are quite short episodes that end with out warning then morph into the next part with a continuous sequence in time of the action..Some of the episodes have small Ads appear. and a TV (channel) name. So must be from the original TV series.



So these missing episodes for the main set of 88 for series two from jana P: are all by Oraldhino. And the Orahldhino videos, as described, are in several parts. For example 36 part 1,2,3,4,5 6 &7.

Newsletter form London 16th September 2017.

So damn, not sniffer but Silver Spoon is back. With a second series. Hurray. I decided to defect from Ezel. Just for one night. I mean it was an almighty pain, continually having to play around on Youtube, just to get back to the next episode after the one you were previously watching. and that's just the start.

I actually have a crib sheet now: of episode numbers for Ezel. A whole written out list. Of episodes numbers and their parts. How many. Then I tick them of..And have taken to writing now. Next to the episode that I'm currently on. I may be taking this too far. 

However then you are faced with the conundrum: just when do you cross out now? But I digress.

Yes, I defected from Ezel because I just couldn't be bothered to search for the sort of subterranean mysterious missing episode. Yet again. Why is there no watch history working? This is really pants. Not very poetic, I know. 

They will sometimes get it right by presenting with the option of continue watching. wonderful. But then sometimes this is the wrong episode. For now. 

But you have watched that episode before. It might be a future episode in time. That you saw before you realised you had missed some: and had to back track.
And so on.

Yet Ezel is worth it. all that. it just is. And I may well return earlier than expected. because I don't want to get ut of the zone. too much. It might take me ages to get used to the music again and the intensely, achingly emotional pace.



Newsletter from London 17th September 2017, Sunday.

So I have returned to Ezel form Silver Spoon series two. because I was a little disappointed in SS series two. i swear they started playing emotional music. and had one officially meaningful moment. As in it felt corny. 

Although I found myself questioning myself on the music. here I was thinking the music was corny: when Turkish series are full of emotional music. Yet this works. It must be that in that case, with Turkish series, the music is all part of it. after a while you realise it has a language of it's own.

Newsletter from London on 18th September 2017. Monday.

So yes, I felt that Silver Spoon became a little saccharine at one point. Which was disappointing. Because this meaningful moment felt amiss. In this cheerfully zany tale. Or maybe me feeling this is just that a result of my complete and utter emotion overload, from the emotional overload pervading each and every form of drama at present.

Yes, Turkish series are emotional too-yet they are also chock-full of story. Story, story, story. And that is what I want. Drama was always meant to be about the story. That's all I'm saying.

So instead of returning to Ezel for a lunch time break, today on the grounds that I knew it was going to be a bit depressing, because something rather sad had just happened. Which I already knew: form having mistakenly watched several episodes ahead.


Tuesday 19th September 2017.
So yes, I jumped from my Illiad Odyssey through Ezel to something different-silly, lighthearted a bit enjoyably stupid. Even bad.

So hence I dared to delve back into BBC4, in the annals of my terrestrial TV recordings. That one interminably piling up on my TIVO box. Quite often the recordings reach 100%. 

So I delete a few from as series I gave up on. Every now and then. Meaning I watched the first 10-20 minutes and thought it was crap. Basically. I just keep one4 for reference. Thinking I might write about it sometime.

Midnight Texas as one such show. So was the second series of Zoo. Which I had really been looking forward to. What happened with zoo is I just saw a clip of an episode that was recorded. Showing a women character punching a pile of tyres. That was enough for me.

Wednesday 20th September 2017.
So on the subject of new series that I was looking forward to that I ditched on: I will throw in series Four of The Originals. When I say new series I mean a subsequent series to the original one. I ditched on The Originals series 4 too. what a shame.. 

I remember calculating that I only had to wait until August. Months ago. But I just wasn't feeling it. Plus my favourite character, the Cockney accented, sort of, Shakespearean thingy, was subject to some severely symbolic hobbling. Which I reject.


Perhaps you had to watch the Originals in a long period of consecutive series watching. To get into the zone. yet what I liked about The Originals was its fresh and original flavour, which was like a Retro classic vintage timeless sort of feel.

But now unfortunately I feel, the Originals has been politically corrected. Plus it's a story about cutsie soon to be horror involved, I am guessing, children. yawn.



Friday 21st September 2017 Newsletter from London.

So as mentioned previously, somewhere, I am on a rare dip back into terrestrial TV. To avoid some sadness inherent in a part of my marathon watching of Ezel. On Youtube. plus it is a real pain in the proverbial: watching youtube on TV. 

Why on earth they don't have a continue watching option on there: I really don't know. Don't even mention the glitch inherent in watch history. being unavailable.

So I dared to delve back into the dreaded BBC. The den of iniquity supreme: of politically correct TV. (the series) Black Lake beckoned. 

I used to love and look forward to Scandi-noir. Back in the day. Now I consider it to be at the very top of strangulated propaganda.



Friday 22nd September 2017 letter from London.

Actually strangulated is not strictly correct: ot is the drama which is strangulated. Now stories, if there ever was on as in original, heartfelt to the writer in some way even emanating form that traditional artistic muse: is now crushed and subservient to the dogma. 

I do suspect there are no real stories any more: if anything they are tacked on as the glib framework. Holding the twisted dreadful caricatures of characters twisting in their shredded state..of bloodied, dripping, glistening cardboard cut out stereotype. Held up by dark and dreadful string above: all for our perusal. Of the repressed, repressive, cut and sliced, primped and primed, properly, prepared: political propaganda.



So I watched another two episodes of Black Lake. I actually looked forward to a Scandi-noir drama on a Saturday night. Like I used to. Sad really. Like back in the day. A kind of Pavlovian response. Although strictly, scientifically speaking, speaking, the Pavlovian response is not what we traditionally think it is. But I digress.

That was before I saw through Scandi-noir. Or maybe Scandi noir was more innocent then. But I wonder. As explained elsewhere, it was a culmination of watching some old episodes of Beck, which jumped into new ones, Department Q: Keeper of Lost Causes (much as I loved it) and then Modus.

To cut a long story short, I began to define Scandi-noir as the most repressive propaganda of all. Well Scandi-noir and the BBC. 

Oh and count the Australian Broadcasting Corporation too. That might not be the quite correct name. But you can tell by the propaganda level: whether that company is the land of the BBC.

You see propaganda is everywhere. Yes drama as in pure and innocent stories, conjured up form the imagination, the muse. And odd idea, a memory. A dream. From pain. From whatever or wherever hence, the story came. Even happiness, I suppose.



Tuesday 26th September 2017.

Yes, happiness is not seen as the traditional urge of mysterious muse. But it equally well could be. In the the interests of fairness. In this description. The point is: it's all about the story. A story. Or used to be. That is all I am saying. I am standing up for the story. Against propaganda.

OK I was meant to be talking about Black lake.

Oh yes, Black Lake, yawn. Like I said, I actually looked forward to this. and re-entered the land of terrestrial TV in order to watch it. But you forget that you have to wait another whole week for the next installment. How tiresome. Now. Or nowadays. 

Once you live in the land of Netflix. especially with Turkish TV series, with their mammoth size. You have bounteous amounts of episodes and a great long story sorted. You can watch if you want to: without knowing that you're sacrificing the series somehow. Hastening the end. When the series is shorter. 

A longer series is a whole different experience. much more intense. And emotional. Well if the series is good. Which all the Turkish series I have seen so far: are. But I digress.

The problem or conundrum with watching weekly terrestrial TV is: you start to measure up whether the series is really worth it. There is a higher or increased, pressure. You weigh up the worth. 

In the case of Black Lake I have decided to stick with it. Although if I force myself to be objective, as against the call of my Pavlovian and pleasant memories of Scandi Noir Saturday nights on BBC4 from long ago: Black Lake is truly tiresome. If I'm honest.

Clunking with cliches that just keep comin a calling: Black lake, in spite of being entirely unoriginal in it's horror set up: still manages to be creepily sinister. 

Well a frozen lake and what is reported to have happened here: is more interesting than the interminable fixation of the camera on the elfin- faced heroine.


Thursday 28th September 2017.
Luckily the scenery and the setting which is like Cabin Fever met The Hole-lite make up for the boring pile-up of the clanking cliches of this boring horror pile-up. 

As in rather underwhelming since you are wishing, well I was, for the much speedier dispatch of the tiresomely tedious characters: than is happening. So far...



Saturday 30th September 2017.

So I should have known better than to watch another Scandi-Noir drama. And ditto, as they say in America, for the BBC. I should have known better to watch BBC Four. I was telling myself, it's OK, it's BBC4..

BBC 4 didn't used to be tainted. BBC One was the worst. But that was before Stan lee's The Lucky Man was on a previously innocent channel. Possibly ITV. 

And the Lucky Man was kind of if not, a Marvel style show. But that was around the time that I sadly realised that actual Marvel shows: such as Luke Cage and before that the thingy/ blind guy? had been politically corrected. Or maybe it had been all along? But I don't think so. OK possibly some.

But I thought that was the whole point of Marvel and or graphic (novel) comic books, that they were free from all constraints. Well no longer. 

Somehow Marvel succumbing to the outright and overt propaganda and or propagandising of the day: is the saddest thing of all.



End of Newsletter from London Number 6.





Clarissima a day in the life of a tv watcher.london’s newsletter Number Five.



Clarissima a day in the life of a tv watcher.london's Newsletter Number 5
August 2017.

An Update on Kacak/The Fugitive.
In Turkish with English subtitles.
On Netflix in the United Kingdom.
Listed under the title Kacak.

So I was at episode 50 when I wrote that title. But guess what: the end of episode 50 is the end, as far as it goes on Netflix. There are no more episodes. The ending is not a proper ending as it finishes half way through a storyline. Well several stories in fact.

Since, like Filinta, Kacak is expert at keeping several balls up in the air: continuously juggling. Thereby keeping you in suspense. Depending on which story you are most interested in. But I digress.

So after suffering this catastrophe, this calamitous disappointment of a sudden truncated, nay unpredicted ending: I set to doing some research. Searching, in vain, for answers online.

Wel searching in vain really: for a satisfactory resolution. To the story. Because I could not be said to be searching in vain for answers: since I found them.

Remembering a nugget of information from an obscure blog that I found on Turkish dramas. ( Observe only because I like the word) and that I have no idea now where or how, I found that blog) well a comment on there had mentioned the fact that the series had ended before the complete set of episode. which meant that there were more episodes out in Turkey for series One.

According to my other research: these are 2 or more episodes. 51 & 52. However the sad news is, well unless you know Turkish, that these two episodes are on Youtube and only in Turkish.

However a quick glance at the beginning of episode 51 really made no sense at all. Although there was some text preceding the episode. Which may have been one of those: well some time later Serhat had..

That kind of thing.

Who knows. I am not prepared to watch it without understanding. and miss the fun of the whole experience.

To add to the confusion I have tested out other Turkish episodes on Youtube, by picking numbers that I knew I have seen. But they are different. So there must be a series 2. So for all I know episode 51 I am checking out: is really from series two. Oh what a conundrum.

24th August 2017.

KACAK UPDATE.

So after some fair amount of research and some unfortunate encounters with spoilers in series three: I have reached some conclusions on the mystery surrounding the ending of series one.

In Turkey I have discovered: series one on Netflix was actually series one & Two. Series two started on episode 34 otr is it 35. There is a series three but it is not identified as such on the Kacak youtube videos. Confusing.. yep.

I know where I became confused: by reading a comment about Kacak on the one and only blog I found where people who al loved Turkish TV series like me. This person pointed out that Netflix had ended early and there were 2 or more final episode: 51 & 52. But only in Turkish on Youtube.

So that information distracted me. I tried episode 51 & 52 on youtube in Turkish just out of curiosity. I soon found out that these two episodes are way, way into the future. Of the plot. And story.

So having tested out my theory of these being a third series. By watching bits of duplicate numbered episodes. ie episodes 28 & episode 34. I know. it was my encounters with major spoilers which showed me there was another series. That I hadn't seen. And it was a lot longer than just two episodes. & 51 & 52 are the final episodes of the last series.





KACAK A MINI-POTTED REVIEW
Please note, this review is also available on this website and can be found using the search bar. This one time I am putting up the mini-potted of Kacak/ The Fugitive review within the Newsletter.

So I loved, loved, loved, Kacak.. Kacak is like the Godfather met Dirty Harry met an intense and wonderful soap opera.. Kacak is a story above all. It is cheerfully violent. I mostly didn't look. However as per usual in Turkish TV series: you don't see the blood. Glory be to Hallelujah: I'm down with that.

The other thing I like best about Turkish TV/television series is that they are stories. It really is: just as story. Thank goodness. Because that is all I want. A story. What dramas used to be. Back in the day. Before political agenda. Political dogma, political correctness, positive role model/ characters (that could never be bad and if in the rare instance they were-it was because they were really a victim-even if they are the mad murder) but I digress.

Yes, bleeping out swear words (which makes it fun to guess what the word was-my theory is the f word and various insulting epithets which we can often imagine including motherfucker. 

Bleeping is a form of political correctness, so is blurring out blood. I guess. Plus of course, alcohol. But at least they are up front about it. We can see it clearly. Or rather, in the case of the bleeping hear something but not hear it. That does sound bad I guess.

But I quite like it. The Bleeping. Its funny. and I don't care. You are imagining the words anyway and sometimes they give you half a clue- by only asterixing part of the word. Hilarious. Point is, it's in your face.

There will be, in Turkish TV series a low to medium to high amount of religious iconography, rituals, especially funerals. Boy do I know all about Turkish and Ottoman funeral rites by now. Every aspect. It's all very moving. But then funerals are.

My main conclusion was that if you are unlucky enough to, God forbid, be buried alive. You could thankfully fight your way out: not being stuck in a coffin and all. Just boards above. But then, I forgot, you're tied up at two ends in a sheet. Oh well. Perhaps you have a knife. But only if you were buried with one..But I digress.

When I say medium to heavy that would be adding the praying. Praying. Praying. Praying. There is a lot of this in the early Filinta series. After a while I zoned out. As in concentrated on something else. In order to avoid it.

The more modern the series is, in my experience with Turkish TV series, the lower the amount of the religious element I found. however people still think about fate a lot. Only one person in Kacak, mentions free will.

end of mini-potted review of Kacak.




29th August 2017

Yes, only one person, in Kacak, mentions free will. There is good news for Filinta fans of a certain character in that series: for he makes a reappearance as a main character in kacak. I was going to say his name, but have decided I will not tell. But it's not Mustafa. Boo hoo. Oh yes and there is another actor from Filinta in Kacak, who let's just say plays someone completely different.He's a chameleon if you like.

I have noticed, with interest and amusement, that certain Turkish names are repeated through history. In say Filinta followed by Intersection. Amusing because it appeased that some certain names are always the baddies..

In summary, Kacak was jolly, exciting, suspenseful and intensely emotional. Serhat himself is a charismatic and wonderful character. We follow his journey from his idyllic life in the sun-dappled village in the mountains..

End of circular.

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.

 

 

 

 

Kacak-a Mini-Potted Review. Series One.

KACAK A MINI-POTTED REVIEW.
Series One.
On Netflix in the United Kingdom.

In Turkish with English subtitles. 
& Subtitles for Several other languages.
Kacak is on Youtube in Turkish, Series One & Two.

So I loved, loved, loved, Kacak..

Kacak is like the Godfather met Dirty Harry met an intense and wonderful soap opera.. Kacak is a story above all. It is cheerfully violent. I mostly didn’t look. However as per usual in Turkish TV series: you don’t see the blood. Glory be to Hallelujah: I’m down with that.

The other thing I like best about Turkish TV/television series is that the are stories. It really is: just as story. Thank goodness. Because that is all I want. A story. What dramas used to be. Back in the day.

Before political agenda. political dogman, political correctness, positive role model/ characters (that could never be bad and if in the rare instance they were-it was because they were really a victim-even if they are the mad murder) but I digress.

Yes, bleeping out swear words (which makes it fun to guess what the word was-my theory is the f word and various insulting epithets which we can often imagine including motherfucker.

Bleeping is a form of political correctness, so is blurring out blood. I guess. Plus of course, alcohol. But at least they are up front about it. We can see it clearly. Or rather, in the case of the bleeping hear something but not hear it. That does sound bad I guess.

But I quite like it. The Bleeping. Its funy. and I don’t care. You are imagining the words anyway and sometimes they give you half a clue- by only asterixing part of the word. Hilarious. Point is, it’s in your face.

There will be, in Turkish TV series a low to medium to high amount of religious iconography, rituals, especially funerals.

Boy do I know all about Turkish and Ottoman funeral rites by now. Every aspect. It’s all very moving. But then funerals are.

My main conclusion was that if you are unlucky enought to, God forbid, be buried alive. You could thankfully fight your way out: not being stuck in a coffin and all. Just boards above.

But then, I forgot, you’re tied up at two ends in a sheet. Oh well. Perhaps you have a knife. But only if you were buried with one..

But I digress.

When I say medium to heavy that would be adding the praying. Praying. Praying. Praying. There is a lot of this in the early Filinta series. After a while I zoned out. As in concentrated on something else. In order to avoid it.)

The more modern the series is, in my experience with Turkish TV series, the lower the amount of the religious element I found. however people still think about fate a lot. Only one person in Kacak, mentions free will.

 

 

Review of Filinta series One Two & Three. By Clarissima.

© 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.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Clarissima the Scribe

24th day of May in the year 2018.

London,

United Kingdom.


PREVIEW OF 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..

FIRST REVIEW ON FILINTA

Series One. First Few Episodes.

So Filinta is beautifully created on screen.  Assiduously constructed for historical accuracy. As in the time period, the 19th century.

The scene settings are gorgeous and fascinating to devour and examine.  To observe that other world.  In that other time. Wonderful stuff.

Interiors to die for.  Exquisite furniture, stencils on the wall, ornate ceramic tiles, I could go on. It would take too long.

The outside scenes too, are painstakingly constructed.  The bundling trams, or more corectly coaches, with horses out front, hurtling over the cobbled street.  With a man, running in front: ringing a red bell.

There is a very deliciously evil bad guy who is more than a little creepy and has a medusa head sculpture on his office wall.

There is an extremely handsome young, moutachioed and bearded young Detective. Well I say bearded but this may indeed vary.  I’m thinking he shaves for work.

Its’ hard to remember the details because the hero has these glittering sea blue eyes.  And a burning gaze.  You kind of get hypnotised.

The hero comes out with some hilarious chat up lines which sound to our twenty first century ears: exceedingly flowery.  But he is deadly serious. Who could help but swoon..

UPDATE ON FILINTA. SERIES ONE.

Well I’m on episode thirty five now and OK now I’m on somewhere around (episode) forty now.  It was around episode thirty five that I felt Filinta was shaping up very nicely.

Admittedly I had hiccups along the way.  I am aware that there is a let’s call it a positive bias on the Ottoman side along with some proselytising.  Plus some shocking historical facts.

(see footnote)

Footnote.

Like in episodes one where Filinta’s best mate jokes- I think-that:

“We could sell you a woman!” in order to remedy Filinta’s bachelor status.  Now this was not shocking to me.  I had already stumbled upon, a while ago now, this aspect of Ottoman history.  But then it is there, in old paintings, for all to see.

Good thing we still have paintings.  Because Wikipedia, for example is periodically sanitised.  By those who carry out the mysterious editing.  But I digress.

On second thoughts, better keep the history books too.  I found something, as in a source called the New World Encyclopedia. Which seemed a little more impartial. In terms of relating history.  But who knows.

This was my brief potted description of Filinta in a note to my brother:
 A brief description of Filinta (Series One).

“Hey, so I stuck with Filinta and it is shaping up very nicely, think you might even like it!”

“Beautifully recreated mid 1800’s Ottoman empire Turkey, sailing boats, old ports, ancient original buildings (I have checked) Detective mysteries, a love story, gangsters, Pashas/ the Sultan, Grand Viziers, political machinations aplenty.. or more succinctly: Victorians with knives.”

 

FILINTA SERIES TWO.

So I’m on series two now and have lost count of the episodes.  At one point it was a hundred and two and I remember thinking that they were still counting from series one.

When at some point they must have decided that triple digits were getting too unwieldy and started counting from episode or number one again.   During series two.  Unless there was an actual break between parts of series two that we don’t know about. Since this series is a Turkish Television series.

I did note at another point, after some long credits, so long that I was thinking that it had finally ended, I saw the date 2015.

Blimey, that’s not that old then I thought to myself whilst realising that 2015 seems super modern anyway: compared to the late 1800’s. Somewhere around the turn of the century now I reckon.

Since at some point the opening credits say: “Filinta’s one thousand”. Which I presumed meant 1000 years.

I reckoned this somehow referred to the turn of the century?  And this was their, as in the Ottoman’s way: of describing it?  Like us saying it’s the millenium.

Remember when we were all convinced: or had been convinced- that some evil computer bug would destroy the electornic world?  At the turn of the century. ha ha.  I do.  But I digress.

FINAL REVIEW OF FLINITA: Series One & Two.

So I am now suffering from a Victorian hangover. a post Victorian hangover to be precise.  Since I am not suffering from a hangover in Victorian times.  Well if I was I would have to be Victorian if that was a term.  And I wouldn’t be writing this.  But I digress.

Yes, ah the Victorian times.  The sartorial elegance of the male characters I noticed: increased over time.  But then of course certain characters were always very well dressed.  I can say no more.

Me I was fascinated with their tie pins or more correctly, some kind of artfully tied silk cravat.  worn by the gentlemen.  Along with fabulous jackets and coats. Of two-toned material, ties and even tartan. Waistcoats were de rigeur.

Possibly my favourite scenes in Filinta and there were many, were the zooming in scenes in 3-D and multicolour technicolour brights.

Then there were the harbour scenes, repeated over and over again.  The one steam sailing ship, blowing it’s black smoke through a giant cylindrical steel chimney.

Then the sailing boat, against a backdrop of magenta sunset: with too many triangular billowing sails to count.

Filinta was a delight for the eyes, a rip roaring story and a tumultuous tale of often nerve wracking suspense. Keeping you in suspenders as my Grandmother used to say.

There was a point towards the end of the second series that I had to vacate the room.  For a break.  Because I just couldn’t take the suspense any more.  It was all a bit too much.

Mind you, it had been really rather one thing after the other.  That’s all I can say.

Plus I guess you have come to know the characters so well by then: you are emotionally invested.  Or involved.  Surely the proof of some very fine acting and wonderful increasing characterisations.  Over time.  Of each character.  As we quite literally, see them grow older and wiser.  Through time.

Well in the case mainly of the heroes that is.  The evil ever plotting baddies remain pretty much the same.  Except for appearing, in one case, a little bit older.

Being that the characters are all fully rounded: we see the good side along with the evil: in several of the officially evil characters.  I like that.  Nobody is cardboard one sided or one dimensional cardboard.  So to speak.

You can’t help liking some of the baddies.  Great.  Nobody is just either evil or good.  OK some of them maybe..

There are lots and lots of wonderful characters in Filinta.  Different sorts of clans if you like, associations. They are all too numerous and complicated to explain. That’s my excuse.

Plus to to begin to describe each or any of the men (and women)  would or could constitute a spoiler. And it’s much more fun to discover them on your own..

Plus Mustafa is seriously hot.

Mustafa, we love you Mustafa!

And Mustafa has some serious moustache work going on.

Footnotes on Filinta as a postscript added later.

There are some odd anomalies at first in Filinta which it took me a while to figure out.

Now, later as a veteran watcher (as in long time, not that I’m a veteran) of Turkish Television series: I am familiar  with these rules.  Which are that despite the most heinous batles and hand to hand combat scenes you will see in Filinta: the blood is always blurred.  On people’s rather horrific injuries. Shall we say.

Also to be found subject to the blurring fuzzy treatment on film is, hilariously, alcohol.  Yes wine glasses have a miasmic like haze.  Inside.

Now at first regarding the fuzzy faces and other injury sites likewise plus the odd alcohol apparition gave me to thinking: what the hell is going on? But then I figured it out.  Of course.

And there is no kissing either.  Well not on the lips.

Suddenly, twitiching and sensitively creeping long slim fingers reaching out to another hand inches away: become fraught with romantic tensions. Ah.

Later, I realised I was becoming obsessed with spotting whether they had remembered to blot out with the hilariously wonderful John Carpenter fog: each and every glass.

Not that there was very much of that.  As the Ottomans mostly drink dinky little cups of coffee and classical English tea. We presume.  In fine bone china intricately patterned tea cups.  Just like Victorians.