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Versailles no more ladies
Jul. 15th, 2016 09:55 pmI am watching Versailles, and have reached episode 5. It is perfect summer tosh, a confection of a deeply silly script, gorgeous frocks and frock coats, a set comprised entirely of mirrors, gold, and topiary, and lots and lots of hair. Unusually for me, I find myself not caring about the undoubted historical inaccuracies, probably because it isn't pretending to tell any sort of true story nor to make striking historical parallels with today. Nor, most of all, pace Downton Abbey, to present its particular past as a golden age that we should yearn to return to, when we all knew our place. It is surprisingly well-acted, considering that the casting must have gone something like this:
(1) Interested people send in a photograph of their eyes. Those whose eyes are suitably dark and sultry (women) or piercing and aquamarine (men) are invited to proceed to stage 2.
(2) Attend costume trying-on session and be photographed in a wig.
(3) Answer questionnaire on whether you are prepared to be filmed naked, if so which parts may be broadcast, and how you feel about French kissing your co-stars.
(4) The actors presenting the best combination of the above will be selected.
It's all gloriously preposterous. It's as if they've constructed the entire thing around a cameraman with a fetish for close-ups of eyes and young men in dark wigs.
I have had the day off work in an attempt to pack etc. before I head off to my parents tomorrow, having been completely unable to do anything in the evenings due to general end of term shattered-ness and the remains of a cold. Apparently I dislike packing so much that in order not to prioritise it I will now the lawn, polish four pairs of shoes, install all the updates on my computer, and book Eurostar tickets (Lille). But the packing is done. I have not found one set of fic notes I meant to take, but since there is zero chance I will do any writing on it, that's OK. I have shoved in some different ones instead. I won't write that either, but I like to feel I might.
I have spent the rest of the day watching the news. Last night I switched on the news just before going to bed and found myself watching, for the second time in 9 months, as late at night terrible things unfolded in France. Now I've just done the same and there's a coup in Turkey.
(1) Interested people send in a photograph of their eyes. Those whose eyes are suitably dark and sultry (women) or piercing and aquamarine (men) are invited to proceed to stage 2.
(2) Attend costume trying-on session and be photographed in a wig.
(3) Answer questionnaire on whether you are prepared to be filmed naked, if so which parts may be broadcast, and how you feel about French kissing your co-stars.
(4) The actors presenting the best combination of the above will be selected.
It's all gloriously preposterous. It's as if they've constructed the entire thing around a cameraman with a fetish for close-ups of eyes and young men in dark wigs.
I have had the day off work in an attempt to pack etc. before I head off to my parents tomorrow, having been completely unable to do anything in the evenings due to general end of term shattered-ness and the remains of a cold. Apparently I dislike packing so much that in order not to prioritise it I will now the lawn, polish four pairs of shoes, install all the updates on my computer, and book Eurostar tickets (Lille). But the packing is done. I have not found one set of fic notes I meant to take, but since there is zero chance I will do any writing on it, that's OK. I have shoved in some different ones instead. I won't write that either, but I like to feel I might.
I have spent the rest of the day watching the news. Last night I switched on the news just before going to bed and found myself watching, for the second time in 9 months, as late at night terrible things unfolded in France. Now I've just done the same and there's a coup in Turkey.