Renaissance: The Blood and the Beauty, on PBS

Michelangelo is often called a “Renaissance Man,” but he lived well into the Reformation. Fittingly, some of the talking heads dub his The Last Judgement a great work of Reformation art, because it is all about sinners burning you know where. Maybe even Savonarola would have approved—but probably not. Of course, Savonarola was very much a part of the Renaissance Era, if not its spirit. Indeed, the violence he unleashed fits right in with dual themes of director-producer Emma Frank’s three-part Renaissance: The Blood and the Beauty, which premieres tomorrow on PBS.

Poor Botticelli and Donatello might feel left out, because Frank largely focuses on Michelangelo’s professional rivalries with Da Vinci and Raphael. Clearly, Frank favors Team Michelangelo, since she incorporates dramatic monologues performed by Charles Dance, in the persona and costume of Michelangelo, adapted from the artist’s own writings. Indeed, Michelangelo had to compete against Da Vinci’s lofty reputation and Raphael’s political acumen, but he outlasted them both.

Frank and company frequently remind viewers of the dangers that came with living in the late 1400s, but that should not come as a great revelation to anyone who watched CW’s Leonardo. After all, both Da Vinci and Michelangelo secured good paying patronage work designing arms and fortifications.

Although wider in scope, The Blood and the Beauty feels a lot like Ken Burns’ Leonardo da Vinci, but with less impressive experts. Weirdly, Frank assembles a number of filmmakers and a “sex historian” (spare us, please) to compliment usual suspects like Walter Isaacson. (Burns’ film also features more distinctive music and narration, thanks to the contributions of Keth David and Caroline Shaw.)

Day of the Jackal, on Peacock

Author Frederick Forsyth wanted his name removed from the not-so hot 1997 Bruce Willis adaptation of his famous novel, because it was so drastically unfaithful. It is hard to imagine he will be too crazy about this one either. There is no question, Fred Zinnemann’s 1973 film towers above the competition. At least the early episodes have a little zip when creator-writer Ronan Bennett’s ten-episode Day of the Jackal, which premieres tomorrow on Peacock.

The Jackal is still an elite British assassin, but instead of a shadowy man of mystery, viewers learn his entire backstory over the course of the series. It kicks off with his complex assassination of a German anti-immigration political leader. Of course, the hit goes off smoothly, but things turn messy when the client refuses to pay the balance. The whole scandal attracts MI6’s attention, where Bianca Pullman, an intelligence officer out of synch with the interim director, believes she can track down the elite gunsmith who crafted the Jackal’s special rifle.

Not surprising to anyone, Norman Stoke came up through the ranks of the IRA. Tracking him down will be almost as tricky as finding the Jackal, but Pullman once handled his sister-in-law as a reluctant informer in Northern Ireland. The clock really starts ticking when MI6 determines the Jackal’s next target will be Ulle Dag Charles (UDC), a leftist tech titan, whose soon to launch “River” application will bring “transparency to financial markets,” which will somehow redistribute wealth to the needy. Nobody bothers explaining how that might work, because they just expect viewers to treasure the dream. If you don’t, you must be a villainous capitalist, who looks like Charles Dance.

That is about where one could expect Forsyth, and probably most everyone else, to check out. It is a shame, because the early episodes represent an entertainingly brisk ride. Unfortunately, it veers southward when the focus turns towards ruthless captains of finance. The unflattering depiction of the British military’s conduct in Afghanistan during the Jackal’s service as a sniper also casts unpleasant shade the service. It also makes no commercial sense. Most potential viewers for a thriller following the hunt for a globe-trotting assassin, ostensibly based on a Forsyth novel, will have positive associations with the British military.

Regardless, thriller fans of any strip will be disappointed by the final two episodes, which string along a parade of contrived accidents, as Bennett searches for an exit strategy. Still, the Thommas Crown-ish opening titles are stylish, in an appealingly retro way.

It is a shame, because the first five episodes or so serve up solid procedural business and several nicely produced action sequences. Although not an obvious casting choice, Eddie Redmayne has the right cerebral Edward Fox vibes as the Jackal. He also has an appropriately pliable face for all the Jackal’s disguises.

Lashana Lynch is convincingly driven, perhaps to a fault, as Pullman. She also has decent action chemistry with Nick Blood, playing her protection agent, Vincent Pyne. Lynch also spars nicely with Chukwudi Iwuji and Lia Williams, in the roles of her escalating chain of command. However, the UDC subplot is utterly silly and Khalid Abdalla portrayal is just as much a caricature as Dance chewing the boardroom scenery as Timothy Winthrop, the chairman of the cabal.

CAIFF ’16: Despite the Falling Snow

Nothing generated bad karma like Soviet Socialism. Nobody understands that better than a defector like Alexander Ivanov. Even though he attained wealth and success in New York, he is still haunted by the events surrounding his sudden departure. Taking advantage of the Glasnost thaw, Ivanov’s niece will try to investigate her murky family history in Shamin Sarif’s adaptation of her novel Despite the Falling Snow (trailer here), which screens during the 2016 California Independent Film Festival.

Their styles are radically different, but Lauren Ivanov is the spitting image of her aunt, Katya Grinkova. Alexander Ivanov successfully found asylum in America, but Grinkova never made it out of the USSR. Intellectually, Ivanov has a very good idea of her probable fate, but the guilt and uncertainty have tormented him for years.

Ironically, it was Grinkova who was the American intelligence source. Although she played the model Soviet citizen, she bitterly resented the Communist system for executing her parents during the dark days of Stalinism. She initially bedazzled the true believing Ivanov on the orders of her handler, Ivanov’s colleague Misha. However, the mission really gets complicated when Grinkova and Ivanov genuinely fall in love. Most of this will come as news to Lauren when she travels to Moscow for an art exhibition. She even starts to get some answers thanks to the help of a reformist journalist, but the mysterious Marina has her own agenda in play.

Sarrif combines an elegant memory play with a period espionage thriller to tell an intriguing tale, in which the toxic past continues to corrode the present day (circa 1992). It is a smart and sophisticated, but it is not necessarily out to re-ignite the Cold War. Nevertheless, whenever the Soviet apparatchiks have the chance to do something despicable, they never let it go to waste. There is a bit of le Carré-style moral ambiguousness, but it is pretty clear the KGB was far worse than their western counterparts—and most bacterial diseases.

Rebecca Ferguson is just terrific as Grinkova and her niece. She gives two performances so different in look and temperament, she could easily pass for two people. As usual, the eternally reliable Charles Dance enriches the film with his steely gravitas and commanding voice, which are so well suited to suave old Ivanov. Sam Reid is bit bland and unassuming as his younger self, but Oliver Jackson-Cohen chews the scenery quite nicely as the darkly charismatic Misha. As Marina, Antje Traue’s intriguing screen presence also cranks up the sexual tension, in keeping with the themes of Sarif’s prior films, I Can’t Think Straight and The World Unseen.

Falling Snow is a classy film that hits the right tragically romantic notes. Sarif handles the constantly shifting timelines relatively well and ties it all together into a satisfying package. Recommended for those who enjoy an old fashioned Cold War melodrama, Despite the Falling Snow screens this Sunday (9/11) at the Orinda Theatre as part of this year’s CAIFF in the East Bay.

And Then There Were None: U.N. Owen Throws a Dinner Party

The nursery rhyme that inspired Dame Agatha Christie’s greatest bestseller has gone through several politically correct facelifts. Currently, it is ten little soldiers who expire one by one. For years, those soldiers were Indians and we never speak of what they were before that. The story also evolved when Dame Agatha wrote a more upbeat ending for her equally successful theatrical adaptation. Most film versions have followed the stage play, but screenwriter Sarah Phelps went back to the original novel for a new television miniseries commissioned to commemorate the 125^th anniversary of Christie’s birth. In any event, ten stranded house guests will be bumped off in an orderly fashion unless they can figure out who among them is the killer in And Then There Were None (promo here), which premieres this Sunday on Lifetime.

A lot of you already know who the killer is, yet you will watch anyway. Even knowing the big twists, And Then There Were None (a.k.a. Ten Little Indians) continues to fascinate us. It has often been dramatized in film and on-stage and it has been ripped off even more regularly. It is back again and just as welcome, thanks to an ensemble of first-class character actors.

The premise remains unchanged. Ten strangers are lured to “Soldier Island,” an isolated isle with spotty ferry service, under a variety of false pretenses. It turns out their mystery host, “U.N. Owen” (as in unknown) has concluded they have all unjustly escaped punishment for their own capital crimes, so he intends to execute them one by one. His judgment also applies to the servants, who had unknowingly play his prerecorded accusations and thereby launch the murders that will roughly correspond to the nursey rhyme.

Former governess Vera Claythorne still does not seem to belong in the company of killers, such as the unrepentant mercenary, Philip Lombard. At least he readily cops to the crimes attributed to him. Everyone else maintains their innocence, at least until panic and cabin fever start to jog loose the truth.

It all still works. In fact, the Lifetime/BBC version might just surprise a few viewers who only know the Hollywood ending. To be completely honest, the two-part, three-hour running time feels a tad bit padded (the great 1945 and 1965 movies were both just a smidge over ninety minutes). Most of the flashbacks to the ten houseguests’ crimes are wholly unnecessary, but they do build dramatic tension rather effectively in the case of Claythorne.

In any case, the cast pulls viewers through those slow patches and really digs into the meat of Christie’s iconic thriller. Toby Stephens falls to pieces pretty spectacularly as the unnerved Dr. Edward Armstrong. Noah Taylor and Anna Maxwell Martin are suitably twitchy as the butler and cook. Aidan Turner broods and glowers like a champ as Lombard, while Charles Dance portrays Justice Lawrence Wargrave with elegant gravitas and a withering stare. Sam Neill certainly looks the part of Gen. John McArthur, but he gets somewhat shortchanged on screen-time. Maeve Dermody (from Serangoon Road) is relatively okay as Claythorne, but there are times she seems to problematically fade into the background.

There is a reason Christie’s story has been so enduringly popular. In some ways, it taps into some of our unspoken frustrations (especially this one). After The Most Dangerous Game, it established the other great template of the presumably psychotic madman scrupulously following his own set of rules. Well worth seeing, especially for (more or less) incorporating the novel’s arguably superior climax, And Then There Were None begins this Sunday (3/13) and concludes the following Monday (3/14) on Lifetime.

The Admiral: When the Dutch Outsailed England and Spain

It is the second most expensive Dutch film of all time, ranking just below Paul Verhoeven’s Black Book. It is hard to fathom how the budget for a WWII Dutch occupation drama could exceed a full scale Seventeenth Century naval epic. Maybe it was Verhoeven’s lattes. Regardless, the exploits of Michiel de Ruyter never look small or cheap on-screen in Roel Reiné’s The Admiral (trailer here), which opens this Friday in select cities.

In the Seventeenth Century, naval power was everything. Britain and Spain had it—and so did the Dutch, sort of. Despite the successes of the soon-to-be-late national hero, Admiral Maarten Tromp, the battered Dutch fleet is in need of an overhaul. Cantankerous Michiel de Ruyter is just the man to do it. He has the Orangist (Royalist) background that the rank-and-file seem to trust, but he has never been overtly political. After reluctantly accepting the position, de Ruyter rather surprises himself by throwing his lot in with the republicans and befriending their leader, Johan de Witt.

Holland was indeed a republic, predating the independent United States. In fact, it was quite a prosperous one, which made it a target multiple times over for the absolute monarchs of Spain and Britain. Of course, as Ben Franklin pointed out, having a republic is one thing. Keeping it is another. The Dutch would lose theirs for some time, but through no fault of de Ruyter. The titular admiral would even continue to serve under William III, who would do quite well for himself as part of the William and Mary tandem.

Reiné and screenwriter Lars Boom and Alex van Galen cogently condense quite a bit of Dutch political history into The Admiral, but the whole point of the film is the naval action. Reiné does not disappoint, bringing plenty of spectacle and bombast, but also clearly rendering the tactical maneuvering. Frankly, it is easier to follow what de Ruyter is planning than trying to make heads or tails of America’s Cup television coverage. Reiné can also stage quite an effective mob riot, which is nearly as cinematic, but less edifying.

Frank Lammers does not exactly cut a dashing figure but he is apparently a good likeness of the de Ruyter statues you can find in nearly every Dutch public park. He plays the admiral accordingly, with plenty of prickliness and salty gravitas. You can understand why men would sail into cannon fire for him. Similarly, Barry Atsma is charismatically fiery as the cunning but principled de Witt. The reliably villainous Charles Dance really pulls out all the sinister stops as the hedonistic, Machiavellian Charles II. However, Egbert-Jan Weber’s underwhelming William III never grows in stature, even when he starts to assert his power.

The bottom line for The Admiral is the naval action, which looks great. With its three specially constructed masted vessels, The Admiral is a good example of how to augment practical effects with CGI. Recommended for fans of seafaring action (consider it the Dutch equivalent of the Korean smash hit, The Admiral: Roaring Currents), Reiné’s The Admiral opens this Friday (3/11) in Los Angeles, at the Arena Cinema.