All Creatures Great and Small (2020) s01e04 – A Tricki Case

No causes for concern or alarm this episode, and not just because Diana Rigg’s back. Even with the village still talking about how Nicholas Ralph handled the sick horse last episode, he seems cemented in the community. Though there is one significant eyebrow raise with Callum Woodhouse. Turns out he might not be a regular cast member after all; his arc in this episode is all about getting money for university out of big brother Samuel West. West’s determined to make Woodhouse prove he’s worth the investment this time, which leads to Woodhouse volunteering to monitor Rigg’s adorable Pekingese.

Once again, everyone in the veterinary practice gets an arc, though Ralph and Woodhouse get the big ones. For instance, pretty much everything West does this episode is support on someone else’s arc. There’s a major subplot about Rigg sending over a box of (human food) treats for her dog when Ralph takes the dog back for observation. And to keep Rigg from overfeeding, obviously. Both West and Woodhouse find it difficult not to help themselves to the treats, which messes up housekeeper Anna Madeley’s plans for an elaborate dinner. At the start of the episode, she gets some concerning personal news and keeps it to herself (from both the boys and the audience). West figures out something’s going on and offers to help.

Woodhouse also has a little arc with bartender girlfriend, Mollie Winnard, who accidentally sleeps over, and there’s an elaborate comedy sequence getting her out of the house.

Speaking of romance, Ralph’s main medical case involves Rachel Shenton’s bull, who’s supposed to be studding at farmer Jon Furlong’s. Only the bull’s disinterested in the lovely cow lasses, so Ralph’s got to get him functional again, or Shenton’s family won’t get the payday. Shenton’s relationship with local landed gentry Matthew Lewis comes back into play, as it turns out they’re a lot more involved than she made Ralph think last episode. Not giving a timeline for Woodhouse’s immediate future last episode is one thing, but Shenton letting Ralph think she and Lewis weren’t quite romantic is another. Lewis’s stopped on the bridge with a flat and is too rich to have ever learned to change a tire; when Ralph and Shenton happen across him, Lewis’s first or second move is to caress Shenton’s posterior as Ralph’s heart breaks a little.

It’s a surprise but shouldn’t be.

Anyway.

We finally get to meet Shenton’s dad later on, played by Tony Pitts. Shenton finds out some of the patients’ owners cook meals and treats for the vets and wants to try her hand at it for Ralph. It’s a funny sequence, starting with Pitts not knowing why Ralph’s loitering around his farm.

However, the main plot—outside Ralph being the show’s protagonist—is Woodhouse dog-sitting the Pekingese. It’s hilarious. Rigg’s got a handful of scenes, which start comedic and then get a little more dramatic as the episode carries on. Even though she absurdly pampers this absurdly adorable dog, the show goes out of its way to acknowledge she’s going through a lack of companionship arc. It’s a really good episode for Rigg.

Also, for Woodhouse, who’s got to stay active even though it’s all about his lack of agency.

The finale’s particularly affecting; West’s only medical case this episode is Sean Carlsen’s giant, ferocious dog (contrasting Rigg’s adorable little one). It eventually ties in with Woodhouse’s arc and echoes the companionship theme.

While there are some intense emotions throughout, the episode works its way to a very nice resolution. The amount of positive sentiment the show gets from everyone being empathetic to animals is immeasurable.

~

All Creatures Great and Small (2020) s01e02 – Another Farnon?

This episode’s got a couple concerning elements. Slightly concerning. It’s also got Diana Rigg in a fantastic guest spot as the BBC period piece equivalent of a “Best in Show” dog mom, which could probably let the show get away with anything.

The first concerning bit is the episode using the same dramatic beat as the last episode. New rural veterinary assistant Nicholas Ralph has screwed something up, and he’s worried boss Samuel West is going to fire him. The big difference between the two incidents (besides the animals involved and the setting) is new seeming regular Callum Woodhouse. Woodhouse is West’s younger brother, who arrives at the beginning of the episode like they forgot to introduce him in the pilot. West apparently not telling anyone is even a plot point.

Woodhouse arrives by train—meaning there’s a closer station than wherever Ralph went last episode (because Ralph then had to take what appeared to be a long bus ride to town)—in his evening wear. This episode establishes the landed gentry around town, something the previous episode wholly ignored. Again, Rigg’s one of the landed gentry, so it’s all fine. But still.

Woodhouse quickly becomes Ralph’s rival after a reckless ride back to the village (with some car damage, no less). Woodhouse has just finished his examinations at veterinary school, and older brother West is as prideful as he seems capable of expressing. For instance, he brags to rival vet Kriss Dosanjh about having two assistants now, and Woodhouse keeps trying to one-up Ralph without actually being particularly helpful.

Especially not once Ralph and Woodhouse start going on calls together.

In addition to Rigg’s adorable Pekingese, this episode also has a cow patient. It’s actually a jam-packed human episode: in addition to introducing Woodhouse, Ralph’s got a developing filtration with farmer’s daughter, Rachel Shenton, and then housekeeper and sage Anna Madeley gets her backstory developed. She was in the war (First World War) and ran a nurses unit; one of her friends from there, Maimie McCoy, visits. At first, it seems like McCoy’s going to flirt with West, but they’re just going to talk cars.

Again, toot toot.

West will turn out to be a very eligible bachelor—at least in Rigg’s eyes—while Ralph will discover he’s got competition for Shenton’s attention. And not Woodhouse, apparently, though the episode constantly establishes Woodhouse’s existing relationships in the village give him a leg up on Ralph.

An indeterminate time has passed since the first episode, but apparently, long enough Ralph’s not immediately worried about losing his job just for annoying West… though maybe he ought to be.

The second concerning bit is Madeley as sage. The show gets away with it. It’s able to launder Woodhouse through Madeley’s sympathetic gaze to make him into far less of a twerp by the end of the episode, which is good if he’s sticking around.

All the performances are fine or better, even Woodhouse at his twerpiest, with Ralph managing to stay in focus even as the frame’s more crowded. Madeley doesn’t end up with as much to do as the episode initially suggests she will; her character development’s like a second C-plot here. West’s better this episode than last; his character’s got a little more depth now, especially with the Woodhouse subplot.

The ending’s a little light, too, given the various plot reveals and West’s explosions, but it’s still rather charming.

The Great Muppet Caper (1981, Jim Henson)

The Great Muppet Caper is rather easy to describe. It’s joyous spectacle. The film has four screenwriters and not a lot of story. Instead, it’s got some fabulous musical numbers. Director Henson really goes for old Hollywood musical, complete with Miss Piggy doing an aquatic number. It also has a bunch of great one-liners and visual gags. The finale isn’t some masterful heist sequence, it’s the Muppets being really funny in their environment and to one another. It’s delightful. Henson is primarily concerned with creating delight. Not entertaining. Being entertaining, being diverting, these two things are very different from creating delight.

Muppet Caper is also technically excellent–Oswald Morris’s photography, Ralph Kemplen’s editing. Henson directs the film in a matter-of-fact, expository nature, then turns it around and makes the viewing of the film engage with the acknowledgement of that exposition. Down to Diana Rigg explaining to Miss Piggy her dialogue is expository. It’s got to be Henson’s way of making the film appeal to both children and adults. Maybe more to adults and their children than the reverse. The human actors relish their roles–and how awesome is it the film pairs John Cleese and Joan Sanderson as the doddering English couple–and their enthusiasm carries over regardless of if a kid is going to fully appreciate it.

Though the best cameo might be Peter Falk just because he’s got an impossible monologue to deliver and he sells it perfectly.

The Great Muppet Caper is about singing and dancing and making people happy. And Charles Grodin having the hots for Miss Piggy. Sure, you need to be a little familiar with Charles Grodin to fully appreciate having him have the hots for Miss Piggy, but only to fully appreciate it. Muppet Caper only gently relies on its pop culture references. The Muppet Performers are so exceptionally good at what they do, at creating these wonderful felt creatures, the artistry is always there. Henson knows how to make this film; his confidence is stunning from the start.

Because it’s a delight from the start. The delight even gets it through some of the rougher songs–Joe Raposo does have a few great numbers, but the rest are mostly mediocre. Muppet Caper is awesome. Of course it’s awesome. It’s called The Great Muppet Caper and it’s directed by Jim Henson. What else would it be.

On Her Majesty’s Secret Service (1969, Peter R. Hunt)

There’s a lot of good stuff in On Her Majesty’s Secret Service, some of it really good. Director Hunt and editor John Glen have a great time with the fight scenes. The film opens with a hurried, though a playful introduction to George Lazenby in the title role, then moves immediately into one of the frantic fight scenes. There’s a lot of sped up film in Majesty, but it only ever works for the fight scenes. Glen cuts out extra frames, forcing the viewer to hurry up. It’s awesome.

Otherwise, technically, the film is somewhat uneven. Hunt’s direction isn’t bad and he clearly likes shooting the exteriors, but they’re the only time (other than those fight scenes) there’s much energy. Cinematographer Michael Reed has a questionable handling of day for night shooting, a technique the film needs a lot and Reed never gets it right. Some excellent music from John Barry, some not so excellent music.

So, overall, uneven technically.

As for the story, again, uneven. Lazenby finds himself romancing Diana Rigg, sort of against his will, in his question to destroy villain Telly Savalas. Savalas comes off as campy, not villainous. Lazenby might bring some camp to the Bond role, but he combines it with actual charm and likability. Not so for Savalas. He’s often just silly.

Rigg’s great. The movie underutilizes her, ignores her, but she’s still great. She even makes it through some of the more misogynistic dialogue (directed at her, not from her).

Majesty is also a little weird with its willingness to make Lazenby’s Bond such a shallow pig. Getting distracted from a mission to look at “Playboy” magazine, for example, doesn’t seem particularly responsible for a secret agent. The plot keeps him away from the MI6 regulars (Bernard Lee, Lois Maxwell, Desmond Llewelyn) for much of the film. In a lot of ways, Majesty feels like a spoof of itself.

Still, the action’s good–save Reed’s “nighttime” photography and Glen giving up on doing anything interesting with the editing in the last quarter–and the film moves. It’s occasionally excellent, usually decent.

Then it closes with a tone deaf, way too long ending and Majesty collapses.

It’s unfortunate. It should be better. Most of the necessary pieces to make it better–to make it good–are readily available in cast and crew.

1.5/4★½

CREDITS

Directed by Peter R. Hunt; screenplay by Simon Raven and Richard Maibaum, based on the novel by Ian Fleming; director of photography, Michael Reed; edited by John Glen; music by John Barry; production designer, Syd Cain; produced by Albert R. Broccoli and Harry Saltzman; released by United Artists.

Starring George Lazenby (James Bond), Diana Rigg (Tracy), Telly Savalas (Blofeld), Gabriele Ferzetti (Draco), Ilse Steppat (Irma Bunt), Lois Maxwell (Moneypenny), Bernard Lee (M), George Baker (Sir Hilary Bray), Angela Scoular (Ruby) and Desmond Llewelyn (Q).


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A Good Man in Africa (1994, Bruce Beresford)

A Good Man in Africa is about the British practicing a modified form of the age-old British diplomacy in Africa (duh) in modernity. As such, when I saw John Lithgow’s name in the credits, I did not expect him to be playing a Brit. However, Lithgow does play one and he does so quite poorly. Lithgow doesn’t really create a character in Good Man, he just creates a posture. He’s annoying but not really in the film often enough to hurt it. Unfortunately, the film’s made with the same approach. Colin Friels’s philandering, hard-drinking assistant to the diplomat (Lithgow) is not a likable character, certainly not one the audience can identify with. Friels’s performance is likable–and good–but it’s a losing battle. Watching A Good Man in Africa is like watching a long, drawn-out error. It misfires immediately and never recovers, nor makes any attempt to do so.

The film’s based on a novel and the novelist wrote the film. I’m not a fan of such behavior because it usually doesn’t work right. I have no idea if A Good Man in Africa is a good novel, but after seeing the movie, I’ll never know. The film toys with having Friels narrate it, but appears to have inserted that narration as an afterthought. If it were going the whole way through, it might work better. Friels is barely the film’s protagonist, since all of the scenes are about other people.

As for the other people, while Lithgow is easily the worst, Joanne Whalley-Kilmer is pretty awful too. The titular Good Man is actually Sean Connery, who gives a better performance than usual, but again, it’s certainly not anything of note. The film’s most underused resource was Diana Rigg and I spent the last act wishing she and Friels would run off together so I’d at least get to see fifteen minutes of good acting and chemistry.

I only watch Good Man because of Friels and knew, given Bruce Beresford directed it, the film would be severely lacking. Maybe that lack of any expectation dulled me to the film’s more obvious deficiencies. Or maybe they were just too dull to care about.

0/4ⓏⒺⓇⓄ

CREDITS

Directed by Bruce Beresford; screenplay by William Boyd, based on his novel; director of photography, Andrezj Bartkowiak; edited by Jim Clark; music by John du Prez; production designer, Herbert Pinter; produced by John Fiedler and Mark Tarlov; released by Gramercy Pictures.

Starring Colin Friels (Leafy), Sean Connery (Murray), John Lithgow (Fanshawe), Diana Rigg (Chloe Fanshawe), Sarah-Jane Fenton (Priscilla Fanshawe), Louis Gossett Jr. (Adekunle), Maynard Eziashi (Friday) and Joanne Whalley (Celia).


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