It’s Christmas Eve-Eve, so I’m going to have to try and keep this one short. That shouldn’t be too difficult, as this episode is mostly table-setting for the season’s grand finale (and possibly the show’s grand finale, as there’s been no word on a renewal just yet, and that’s never a good sign).
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Here we are with just three episodes left to go, and somehow this show feels like it’s still warming up. Time certainly flies!
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As per the previous episode, the Saxon Elders (including Robin’s Uncle Gamewell) are locked up in Nottingham dungeons, awaiting their fate. The Sheriff states that he’s going to pull the old “you’ll all be executed unless Robin turns himself in” ploy, though after freeing one of the prisoners to deliver the message, he divulges to his new captain that this isn’t the real plan. It would appear that scheming and plotting has finally entered the chat…
You know, I thought the title “Thieves With a Purpose” was promising, one that suggested Robin and the outlaws would finally hone in on what they stand for and what they want to achieve – but instead, the writers decide that it’s time for more love triangles!
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Small consolation is that they don’t waste any time when it comes to Marian confronting Robin with what she knows about his involvement in her brother’s death. He knows straight away what she’s referring to, which means he’s been feeling guilty about it, which also means that he knows damn well he should have fessed up when he had the chance (preferably before they slept together). I’m glad Marian also mentions Priscilla’s injury and other collateral damage that the outlaws have left in their wake – at the end of the day, she’s still a Norman, and it’s her people that Robin has been maiming and killing.
Any resistance, no matter how justified, will see innocent people caught in the crossfire, and that’s the reality all stories dealing with this subject matter should keep harking back to. What is the cost of revolution? Currently, it’s Robin’s relationship with Marian.
The last episode was obviously very outlaw-heavy, and now we turn to court politics. Marian once more comes to the fore, and we learn about what Queen Eleanor is actually attempting to achieve with her various manipulations – and unsurprisingly, it doesn’t make a heck of a lot of sense.
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Lady Macbeth from Macbeth
The Year of the Villainess is nearly over, though I still have plenty of candidates left to chose from. The Wicked Witch of the West, Cruella de Ville, Annie Wilkes, Nurse Ratched, Delilah, the White Witch, Agatha Trunchball, Morgana le Fay, Amy Dunne, the Marquise de Merteuil… the list goes on.
But I wanted to end on a strong note, so who better to showcase than Lady Macbeth (no first name given), who is undoubtedly Shakespeare’s most memorable female villain. I mean, who else is there? Goneril and Regan? Tamora? Sycorax, who isn’t even in the play? There really aren’t that many to choose from.
Lady Macbeth obviously embodies traits that Shakespeare’s contemporary audience would have considered “ungodly” in a woman: not only her ambition to become Queen of Scotland by committing regicide, but her expert “wiles” that goad Macbeth into doing the deed in the first place. Like Eve and the serpent combined, Lady Macbeth is a danger to her husband precisely because of her skill at manipulation, knowing exactly what to say and do in order to get him to act.
That womanhood and weakness are considered intertwined is apparent when Lady Macbeth first learns of the opportunity that lies before her husband, and so in order to rid herself of any femininity that might hinder her capacity for murder, she gives her most chilling monologue: “Come, you spirits, that tend on mortal thoughts! Unsex me here, and fill me from the crown to the toe top full of direst cruelty; make thick my blood, stop up the access and passage to remorse, that no compunctious visitings of nature shake my fell purpose.”
This notion has always unnerved me; the idea that someone could self-consciously pray for evil to come upon them so that they might have the “courage” to go through with an evil act.
Yet despite all the powers of persuasion she has at her disposal, she’s also an active participant in the murder. She is the one that prepares King Duncan’s bedchamber, ensures that his attendants are inebriated, and makes sure that weapons are in place for her husband to use. Afterwards, she has to hurriedly clean up Macbeth’s mess when he neglects to place the daggers alongside Duncan’s attendants in order to frame them.
Although she also manages to salvage the situation when Macbeth has a vision of the murdered king at a banquet, her own grip on sanity starts to wane, and after her famous “out damned spot,” sleep-walking scene, she drops out of the action entirely. News of her off-screen death is brought to Macbeth only a few minutes before his own.
And yet despite this lacklustre conclusion to her character, it’s a testimony to her impact that she’s one of the most unforgettable parts of the play. I’ve heard it said that every serious stage actress should play Juliet in their youth and Lady Macbeth in their prime, and there’s certainly a line-up of talent when it comes to those that’ve taken on the role: Vivien Leigh, Isuzu Yamada, Judi Dench, Helen McCrory, Keeley Hawes, Alex Kingston, Marion Cotillard, Frances McDormand, Tabu, Ruth Negga, Saoirse Ronan, Indira Varma and Valene Kane (and those are just the ones I recognize).
I’ll end with a quote from her, which in many ways could be attributed to any and all of the women I’ve written about this year, demonstrating their drive, their tenacity, their cruelty, and their allure: “you shall put this night’s great business into my dispatch, which shall to all our nights and days to come, give solely sovereign sway and masterdom.”
There goes November, and now Christmas is just around the corner. There’s no real theme to this month’s reading/watching log – I just sort of went with the flow and did whatever I wanted. Most of my free time is currently being taken up with festive-related activities, and my nephew/niece are fully into the Christmas spirit at this point (we’re taking them to the markets this Sunday, in which they’ll be able to see Santa go punting on the Avon).
Having taken it a bit easier this month, I’m going to have to start cramming if I’m going to get all the books/films/shows I wanted to finish this year done with. Sinners, Weapons, K-Pop Demon Hunters, Wake Up Dead Man, Philip Pullman’s The Secret Commonwealth re-read, Scott Westerfeld’s Behemoth… I’ll have to offset it all with the slightly more holiday-appropriate Ghost Stories for Christmas. But here’s November…
We are now halfway through the season, and what to make of it so far? I’ve found myself comparing it to the BBC’s Robin Hood a lot, mostly because that show looms so large in my imagination, but it strikes me that the biggest difference between long-form storytelling and a series of standalone episodes is how it effects the overall quality of any given project.
When you’re watching episodes that each have a beginning, middle and end (even if they plug into an overarching storyline) then it doesn’t really matter if there are a couple of duds. You know there are going to be ups and downs, and a solid episode usually makes up for a few weaker ones.
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But in long-form storytelling, it’s either all good or all bad (or all average) since it’s all part and parcel of a single story. There’s no room for comparison, as the run-on effect makes it difficult to discern one episode from another.
That’s probably the most crucial structural difference between this show and the BBC’s version (and Robin of Sherwood, and The Adventures of Robin Hood, and any other show based on these legends), making it impossible to tell if it’ll be worth our while until it’s over. Right now it’s levelling out at “it’s fine, I guess.”
