So the BBC's shiny period drama Taboo came to an end last night, and I think it's time we talked about it. To be specific, I think it's time we talked about how it promised so much in the first episode and then proceeded to deliver increasingly little with each installment.
What started out like a sort of Regency Batman of Monte Cristo, with dollops of mysticism and gorgeous scenery of equal parts East End mud and East India bling, soon deflated into a confused muddle of board meetings, growly monologues, pointless visions and shots of Tom Hardy striding through the mud with his special hat on. All structured around the least engaging trade negotiation plot since The Phantom Menace.
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| No, I didn't use an accent coach, since you ask |
Rather than rant further, I give you some alternative titles for the show that I feel are more accurate descriptions than the one which makes it sound like an aftershave from the 80s:
- Jonathan Pryce Drops The F-Bomb
- Bane Has Magic Skype Sex With His Deep One Sister
- Look! It's Another Muddy Scene On The Thames At Low Tide!
- How Come The Only Two Doctors In London Look Identical?
- Sea Otter Pelts: The Crystal Meth Of 1814
- What, So Is It Magic Or Not?
- We Get It, A Boat Sank
- Mark Gatiss Is Apparently Allowed To Play Any Character He Wants In The Style Of Widow Twankey
- Just Get On A Boat To Nootka Fucking Sound Already
3 comments:
Funilly enough,the F-bombs were one of the few bits that engaged me!
Ugh what the f*ck was that ? The last bit turned into The A(teenhundreds) Team with Delainey on The Jazz and his sister the only character with the good sense to bail before it all went up it's own arse. Oh how I loved the subtle commentary of the spy dyed red, white and blue (buy no, not dyed, the red was BLOOD...do you see). How I gasped at the nasty King and his minion, I had no idea people were racked in 1814(ish) or that kings could have people killed, in my ignorance I thought those things were centuries in the past and that George IV was barely able to step out of his own door without being pelted with rotten fruit and finding out nobody (including parliament) gave a f*ck what he thought/wanted. How I marveled that George Chichester would get justice for the dead slaves by using the confessions left to him...the confessions of two traitors who just killed an entire regiment of the kings men, trustworthy chaps that the courts are bound to listen to. How I nodded in agreement as Delaney told his butler that some people simply aren't ready to have freedom (maybe those people could wear a special badge so we could spot them). But most of all how my heart swelled at the sight of The Good Ship Diversity with it's cargo of prostitutes, transvestites and murderers leaving horrible, wicked old England for America Land of the Free*
*well unless you were black...or an otter. In all seriousness I can barely believe that they wrote a story about how slavery is a bad thing and the 'heroes' prove this by leaving a country where slavery is illegal (and that country spends lots of money and time using the navy to force other to outlaw it too) to go to a place where lots of people think that slavery is flipping ace
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