Skip to main content

This is MY ship!


Blake's 7
3.2: Powerplay


You’d have thought that, as a director who knows his stuff, producer David Maloney would have handpicked only the best of the best to direct Blake’s 7. Most often, though, we’ve seen solid efforts but nothing dazzling. It takes the man in charge to show us how it should be done, returning to the director’s chair (or gallery) for his second in the last three stories (this was shot first in the season, so he actually directed back-to-back). And he delivers a tense, edge-of-the-seat episode, merrily tightening the screws until the last moments. 


This is certainly up there with the best of the series, and in some ways is a mirror of the spaceship-bound second episode of season one, Space Fall. Both set up the crew of the Liberator and ended with them taking command of the ship, repelling some nasty Federation types in the process. Hats off too to Tezza (aside from whatever script editing Boucher was obliged to do) as he constructs an episode full of intrigue and action; it’s notable how short and pacy the scenes in this are, no doubt helped by having three different plotlines to spin for most of the running time.


Something I didn’t mention about the last story is the new title sequence. Possibly because it’s rather underwhelming. The initial shot of the Liberator flyby is quite nice, but as a whole it’s neither as dynamic nor as evocative as the previous sequence, nor as stylish as the following season’s. It feels a bit cheap, really, like an ice lolly advert.


Is this the first cliffhanger recap the series has seen? I think it is. Michael Sheard (he needs no introduction Who-wise, so I’ll just mention Laurence Scarman) makes an instant impression as Section Leader Klegg, gone all grizzly with a hard man voice to match. It’s a convincing performance; you could see him mucking in with the Caves of Androzani gunrunners in this persona.


This hits the ground running, with Avon thinking on his feet and making up a story to conceal that they’ve teleported aboard; he gives himself the name Chevron. The tension between Tarrant and Klegg is economically set up; it’s clear that they aren’t in the same unit and that Klegg is mistrustful of his nominated captain. I hadn’t realised that Tarrant gave his first name, Del. So, again, the characters’ alpha statuses are implied by the use of surnames; Tarrant will vie for leadership while Dayna (first name) will take commands.
Avon’s thrown a number of superb lines in this episode, and they’re worth savouring. He is told that the ship is a prize of war.

Avon: What do you want now? A deed of transfer, perhaps?

The reason the commandeering of the ship has not been a total success is that it was set to respond only to the crew, something that Tarrant has worked out in short order. Pacey looks like he should be in an ‘80s boy band, so his casting is definitely of its time. He has no difficulty holding his own against old pros Darrow and Sheard, though.


The set up of Avon hiding from the crew in plain sight is a clever one, first creating tension of whether he’ll be found out, and then of whether he and Dayna can survive the cat-and-mouse game they are playing. We’re quickly onto something being not quite right with Tarrant when he interrupts Klegg’s attempt to expose Avon as a crewmember (through asking Zen to respond to his voice), knocking out both Avon and Dayna. And it’s clear from their interplay that Klegg may be a brute, but he’s no fool; he’s no doubt survived as long as he has by being actively suspicious of everyone he meets.


The return of Vila is welcome (first heard sending a distress call to the Liberator, and initiating its change in course), but it’s a shame the episode falls back on “Vila the idiot” as a character point. He’s always better portrayed as an unabashed but astute coward, partly because the nihilistic sense of humour he arms himself with at all time doesn’t sit quite with the bouncing naivety he’s called upon to show when he needs to be duped by those up to no good.

Vila: It sounds bad-tempered. I hope it’s vegetarian.


Maloney has picked a wonderfully lush, distinctive location for filming, and his compositions show the kind of care you’d expect from him. Nation’s characterisation of the tribes on the planet is as broad stroke, slapdash good guys/bad guys as you’d expect from the guy who brought you the Thals and Kaleds, so it’s fortunate that he’s built in a bit of intrigue into the obvious “Don’t judge by appearances” (an observation Avon makes to Dayna in the very next scene) distinction between the Hi-Tecs (gawd, Terry, you’re really not trying here, are you?) and the Primitives.


Vila trusts anyone who will give him food, so initially he’s allied with the Primitives, as represented by the great John Hollis (Sondergaard in The Mutants, Lobot, and numerous Avengers appearances amongst others). It’s not a great part, but Hollis only has to show up with his shiny dome to make an impression. He’s accompanied by a beardy fat bloke, who was presumably cast for his ability to carry the tranquilised Hollis over his shoulder like a bag of spuds.


The hunters pursuing them are a bizarrely costumed bunch, like a futuristic female biker gang who base their look on Girl on a Motorcycle.


Locked up, Avon and Dayna debate what’s next. Avon says that the first thing they need to do is get out of the room.

Dayna: And once we’re out?
Avon: This is my ship!

Best line of the episode. And, as delivered, one of the best in the series.

One of the funniest in the episode comes on discovery that someone has been stabbing Federation guards in the back and leaving them sitting on duty.

Avon: That’s a difficult way to commit suicide.


In short order, Avon and Dayna are hiding out under the floor of the Liberator, effectively bathed in red light. Maloney shoots the spaces in the ship with a keen sense of geography, and the constant switching between hunter and hunted, and whatever the mysterious Tarrant’s game is, builds the tension extremely effectively.


It’s perhaps a bit too neat that Cally is being nursed back to health (with a crayz-ee regen visor) on neutral ship headed to precisely the planet that Vila’s fetched up on. As with the Hi-Tecs who “rescue” Vila, they seem almost suspiciously nice to Cally. And having them show complete disinterest in the demands of Servalan when she is rescued works to put you on their side. 


Although, Servalan must be spinning at the synchronicity of bumping into Blake’s crew every five minutes. Just where was she picked up from, anyway? It looks like a rather uninviting spot. I can only assume that once away from Sarran’s beaches the planet is a desolate dustbowl that looks like a model sequence (the out-of-order shooting might have something to do with this mismatch, I suppose).

Avon’s ruse of launching an escape capsule so that the Federation troops think he and Dayna have legged it is a solid one, and gives us more cat-and-mouse tension. Avon doesn’t manage the same deductive results that he did in Mission to Destiny, as he doesn’t figure out who is bumping off the Federation guards. In that sense, without competing for command, Tarrant marks himself out as a contending alpha male and Blake’s inheritor.

Dayna: Avon, why do you keep everything to yourself? Why so secretive?
Avon: Perhaps I’m shy.


Cally’s catty conversation with Servalan is a bit of stir-and-repeat of what we already know about the Federation and how the latter intends to get the crew. There’s little in the way of sparkiness between the two; Vila’s sarcasm on meeting the President later is far more effective, Cally does learn that Servalan has met Avon, though.


Sneaking a chance to talk to Zen, we learn that Blake is en route for Epheron (why is Avon so keen to know, though; this is the chance he’s been waiting for, unfettered by his earnest leader) and that Jenna has superficial injuries, and is aboard a neutral cargo carrier on course for Morphenniel. She’s let it be known her treatment is not a priority. Which is basically saying, “Fuck’y’all”. Or “Sorry, I’m off to study Chaucer”.


There’s good chemistry between Darrow and Pacey (possibly, in terms of this episode anyway, better than between Darrow and Thomas). Avon’s even given a “You got me there, good one” smile when Tarrant responds to his suggestion that he deduced who he was because he was too intelligent for Vila.

Tarrant: It was an even bet.

Tarrant shoots a trooper before he joins up with Avon and his revelation that it is he who has been bumping of troops is pitched to show Avon off guard for once. His back story makes him sound like a peculiar cross between Blake and Jenna (or perhaps Del Grant would be more accurate); running contraband and getting mixed up in others’ wars. It has the whiff of thrill-seeking, as he “went in against the aliens, like you”.


He also trained as a space captain (so was presumably an alpha grade like Blake?), which helped his deceiving of Klegg. It’s okay that he’s been slaughtering Klegg’s men as they comprise the Federation’s death squad. It shouldn’t really be necessary to qualify his actions as being okay because they are “really, really bad” but I won’t be too judgemental on this as they are fairly unstinting (at this point) in making Dayna kill-happy (Dayna is probably Boucher continuing to work through his Leela fixation).


I don’t know what Michael Keating’s been up to; either he’s shat himself or he’s been sitting in a puddle as the two biker bitches see him off into their care centre. His reunion with Cally is quite sweet.

Cally: I knew you were still alive because I felt your pain.
Vila: Oh, you’ve no idea what I’ve been through. Well, it’s all right. If you don’t mind the agony.


The “Terran” Federation is name-dropped again; I’m not sure we’ve heard that since early in season one. Servalan is like the cat who’s got the cream announcing that she has ensured safe passage to Earth through making a considerable payment to the Chengans.

Vila: Wonderful. We were worried about you. Your welfare really concerned us.
Servalan: We won’t meet again.
Vila: Sounds good. I told you I like change.


I like this exchange; Vila’s so utterly beneath Servalan that his disrespectfulness is particularly sweet. Of course, Vila is rather less care free when Servalan reveals that the place is known as “the slaughterhouse” as a parting shot (an organ bank).


The stand-off between Klegg, Avon and Tarrant begins strikingly; Klegg in the teleport area, holding Dayna hostage (she was clearly all talk saying she could take Klegg’s men down earlier as she got caught without even roughing them up a bit), then Avon apparently giving up Tarrant in exchange for safe teleportation of him and Dayna to the nearest planet. 


Which means that, although well-staged, the “Now!” fisticuffs that sort out the remaining troopers seems a bit perfunctory and chancy. Still, having Dayna strangle Klegg while Avon and Tarrant look on (“Promising, quite promising”) is something you’d never have seen Blake register approval of.


The episode keeps the action going right up to the last moment (there is a slight sense of “We’re running out of time, wrap it up”), and the “Just in the nick of time” teleportation to safety of Vila and Cally pushes believability a bit too much for me; it’s particularly fortunate that they were both wearing their bracelets at that point.


Avon: This one is Vila. I should really introduce him now. He’s at his best when he’s unconscious.


Very magnanimous of Avon to instantly accept Tarrant and Dayna onto his ship and have their voices recognised by Zen. Dayna, less so since they’ve built a rapport. But he seems to take Tarrant at face value (admittedly, he has saved his life on several occasions, and Avon’s probably discerned that he doesn’t possess many hidden depths).


An excellent episode, easily in the top five so far. Maloney calls the shots with great skill, the script is tense and full of incident, and the bringing together of the old, and the introduction of the new, crew members makes the whole thing very memorable. 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

You're not only wrong. You're wrong at the top of your voice.

Bad Day at Black Rock (1955)
I’ve seen comments suggesting that John Sturges’ thriller hasn’t aged well, which I find rather mystifying. Sure, some of the characterisations border on the cardboard, but the director imbues the story with a taut, economical backbone. 

She writes Twilight fan fiction.

Vampire Academy (2014)
My willingness to give writer Daniel Waters some slack on the grounds of early glories sometimes pays off (Sex and Death 101) and sometimes, as with this messy and indistinct Young Adult adaptation, it doesn’t. If Vampire Academy plods along as a less than innovative smart-mouthed Buffy rip-off that might be because, if you added vampires to Heathers, you would probably get something not so far from the world of Joss Whedon. Unfortunately inspiration is a low ebb throughout, not helped any by tepid direction from Daniel’s sometimes-reliable brother Mark and a couple of hopelessly plankish leads who do their best to dampen down any wit that occasionally attempts to surface.

I can only presume there’s a never-ending pile of Young Adult fiction poised for big screen failure, all of it comprising multi-novel storylines just begging for a moment in the Sun. Every time an adaptation crashes and burns (and the odds are that they will) another one rises, hydra-like, hoping…

She was addicted to Tums for a while.

Marriage Story (2019)
(SPOILERS) I don’t tend to fall heavily for Noah Baumbach fare. He’s undoubtedly a distinctive voice – even if his collaborations with Wes Anderson are the least of that director’s efforts – but his devotion to an exclusive, rarefied New York bubble becomes ever more off-putting with each new project. And ever more identifiable as being a lesser chronicler of the city’s privileged quirks than his now disinherited forbear Woody Allen, who at his peak mastered a balancing act between the insightful, hilarious and self-effacing. Marriage Story finds Baumbach going yet again where Woody went before, this time brushing up against the director’s Ingmar Bergman fixation.

My name is Dr. King Schultz, this is my valet, Django, and these are our horses, Fritz, and Tony.

Django Unchained (2012)
(MINOR SPOILERS) Since the painful misstep of Grindhouse/Death Proof, Quentin Tarantino has regained the higher ground like never before. Pulp Fiction, his previous commercial and critical peak, has been at very least equalled by the back-to-back hits of Inglourious Basterds and Django Unchained. Having been underwhelmed by his post Pulp Fiction efforts (albeit, I admired his technical advances as a director in Kill Bill), I was pleasantly surprised by Inglourious Basterds. It was no work of genius (so not Pulp Fiction) by any means, but there was a gleeful irreverence in its treatment of history and even to the nominal heroic status of its titular protagonists. Tonally, it was a good fit for the director’s “cool” aesthetic. As a purveyor of postmodern pastiche, where the surface level is the subtext, in some ways he was operating at his zenith. Django Unchained is a retreat from that position, the director caught in the tug between his all-important aesthetic pr…

You must find the keys for me!

Doctor Who The Keys of Marinus
Most of the criticisms levelled at The Keys of Marinus over the past 50 years have been fair play, and yet it’s a story I return to as one of the more effortlessly watchable of the Hartnell era. Consequently, the one complaint I can’t really countenance is that it’s boring. While many a foray during this fledgling period drags its heels, even ones of undeniable quality in other areas, Marinus’ shifting soils and weekly adventures-in-miniature sustain interest, however inelegant the actual construction of those narratives may be. The quest premise also makes it a winner; it’s a format I have little resistance to, even when manifested, as here, in an often overtly budget-stricken manner.

Doctor Who has dabbled with the search structure elsewhere, most notably across The Key to Time season, and ultimately Marinus’ mission is even more of a MacGuffin than in that sextology, a means to string together what would otherwise be vignettes to little overall coherence…

So you made contact with the French operative?

Atomic Blonde (2017)
(SPOILERS) Well, I can certainly see why Focus Features opted to change the title from The Coldest City (the name of the graphic novel from which this is adapted). The Coldest City evokes a noirish, dour, subdued tone, a movie of slow-burn intrigue in the vein of John Le Carré. Atomic Blonde, to paraphrase its introductory text, is not that movie. As such, there’s something of a mismatch here, of the kind of Cold War tale it has its roots in and the furious, pop-soaked action spectacle director David Leitch is intent on turning it into. In the main, his choices succeed, but the result isn’t quite the clean getaway of his earlier (co-directed) John Wick.

Poor Easy Breezy.

Once Upon a Time… in Hollywood (2019)
(SPOILERS) My initial reaction to Once Upon a Time… in Hollywood was mild disbelief that Tarantino managed to hoodwink studios into coming begging to make it, so wilfully perverse is it in disregarding any standard expectations of narrative or plotting. Then I remembered that studios, or studios that aren’t Disney, are desperate for product, and more especially, product that might guarantee them a hit. Quentin’s latest appears to be that, but whether it’s a sufficient one to justify the expense of his absurd vanity project remains to be seen.

I just hope my death makes more cents than my life.

Joker (2019)
(SPOILERS) So the murder sprees didn’t happen, and a thousand puff pieces desperate to fan the flames of such events and then told-ya-so have fallen flat on their faces. The biggest takeaway from Joker is not that the movie is an event, when once that seemed plausible but not a given, but that any mainstream press perspective on the picture appears unable to divorce its quality from its alleged or actual politics. Joker may be zeitgeisty, but isn’t another Taxi Driver in terms of cultural import, in the sense that Taxi Driver didn’t have a Taxi Driver in mind when Paul Schrader wrote it. It is, if you like, faux-incendiary, and can only ever play out on that level. It might be more accurately described as a grubbier, grimier (but still polished and glossy) The Talented Ripley, the tale of developing psychopathy, only tailored for a cinemagoing audience with few options left outside of comic book fare.

It always seems a bit abstract, doesn’t it? Other people dying.

Game of Thrones Season Six
(SPOILERS) The most distracting thing about Season Six of Game of Thrones (and I’ve begun writing this at the end of the seventh episode, The Broken Man) is how breakneck its pace is, and how worryingly – only relatively, mind – upbeat it’s become. Suddenly, characters are meeting and joining forces, not necessarily mired in pits of despair but actually moving towards positive, attainable goals, even if those goals are ultimately doomed (depending on the party concerned). It feels, in a sense, that liberated from George R R Martin’s text, producers are going full-throttle, and you half-wonder if they’re using up too much plot and revelation too quickly, and will run out before the next two seasons are up. Then, I’m naturally wary of these things, well remembering how Babylon 5 suffered from packing all its goods into Season Four and was then given an ultimately wasted final season reprieve.

I’ve started this paragraph at the end of the eighth episode, No One (t…

To defeat the darkness out there, you must defeat the darkness inside yourself.

The Chronicles of Narnia: The Voyage of the Dawn Treader (2010)
Easily the best of the Narnia films, which is maybe damning it with faint praise. 

Michael Apted does a competent job directing (certainly compared to his Bond film - maybe he talked to his second unit this time), Dante Spinotti's cinematography is stunning and the CGI mostly well-integrated with the action. 

Performance-wise, Will Poulter is a stand-out as a tremendously obnoxious little toff, so charismatic you're almost rooting for him. Simon Pegg replaces Eddie Izzard as the voice of Reepicheep and delivers a touching performance.
***