#there’s a merlin apologist point to this somewhere

[that-nerd-who-writes-fanfiction]

I hate that Merlin got no good mentor figure in the show.

Like Gaius was fine, ish, because Merlin liked him and he did very genuinely try to keep Merlin safe. But he was also traumatised as fuck and literally agreed with a genocidal maniac who decided killing everyone was better than actually grieving his dead wife.

And Kilgharrah was a spiteful basement lizard and an absolute bastard. He did nothing other than be a convenient plot device who gave Merlin more trauma than he knew what to do with.

And it wasn’t like he had many other options either, like

Alator of the Catha, dead.

Balinor, dead

Hunnith, amazing but no idea about magic.

Uther, read it in a fic one time. I’ve had trips that were less trippy.

Gaius, traumatised to the pyre and back. A few times.

So I can’t really blame him, same as Morgana he just latched onto the first person (or nightmare cave beast basement lizard in his case) who told him he wasn’t cursed or a monster.

But the show would’ve been better if he actually had someone to turn to consistently instead of an immortal who wants to die, a cryptic shut in, a druid he sees twice a year or whoever else showed up for less than 15 minutes of screen time.

[runesrule]

A legend reborn: Guy Richie reimagines King Arthur (and should probably take a chill pill before directing any more movies)

It’s fairly well known that any film directed by Guy Richie should come with some kind of warning that encompasses overuse of shaky-cam, jump-shots, abrupt transitions and an all-around epileptic-fit inducing, cheerleader-on-speed style of film-making. King Arthur: Legend of the Sword, is no different in that regard. However, for a film which on the surface is everything I hate—it’s a cookie-cutter style Straight White Hollywood Wet Dream—I got totally, totally suckered in.

Here there be spoilers, kids. 

I can only partly blame it on my massive and enduring crush on Charlie Hunnam. There’s also the fact that they’ve actually managed to do something new with an ancient myth in a visually epic extravaganza, the awesome soundtrack and the ambiguous nature of character alignments. 

Charlie Hunnam’s King Arthur isn’t the clean-cut Lawful Good protagonist we’re used to seeing in this role. At best, this King Arthur is a True Neutral, at worst Chaotic Neutral. This is not a man who gives a flying rat’s arse about rules or any kind of heroic morality. His motivations are simple; look after me and mine, in that order, and the rest of the world can burn. When a wounded rebel chooses to hide in the brothel which Arthur lives, the dialogue seems to be leading to the obvious heroic choice for Arthur to aid the wounded, bleeding man. Instead, he turns him over to the villainous Sergeant Jackseye without a second thought. Even when Arthur finally chooses to join the fight against his uncle, the tyrannical King Vortigan, it’s not for any reasons of nobility or ‘the greater good’. It’s only after Vortigan’s men literally burn his entire life to the ground, forcing the people he cares about on the run that he darkly vows to kill slay the monster. When his offsider Back Lack points out that the rebels who remain of King Uther’s court are going to be happy to hear the prophesised king say such a thing, Arthur darkly replies: “I’m not doing this for them.” Any story with an interesting protagonist deserves a compelling antagonist. Luckily, Jude Law delivers. King Vortigan, brother of King Uther, a mage, advisor, husband and father, is one of those bad guys whose deeper motivations can be argued about again and again. There are those who will sympathise with his actions, those apologists who’ll claim that there is good in him, and those who’ll say that one tiny hint of actual humanity does not make a monster a man. He’s almost Darth Vader in his ambiguity of character. I mean, obviously he’s a power-starved egomaniac who straight up murders his own brother after siccing a crazed lunatic hopped up on dark magic after his kingdom, but… He displays empathy. He screams out in agonised grief after slaughtering both his wife and daughter in exchange for power from creepy lake-Ursula and her equally creepy daughters/sister-wives. How does one categorise a villain who lets jealousy and greed consume him to the point he’ll murder his own beloved family, and then mourn them with tears and a broken heart? In the wise words of Detective Jake Peralta:  ‘Cool motive, still murder’ However, the hint of a deep, vibrant conflict within him does add an interesting element to the theme of power and corruption that runs through-out the film. (Now there’s a sentence straight out of my Year 12 English essays) After pulling the sword from the stone and being captured, Arthur and Vortigem have a conversation about power in Arthur’s cell. Arthur denies ever having any power, “-or any desire to achieve it,” despite exuding dominance over lesser thugs throughout the entire introduction. On the streets of Londinium, Arthur is a medieval kingpin, leaving Vortigem to—quite rightly—wonder: “What kind of man would you have become had you inherited your father’s kingdom?...what gave you such drive?” The answer, of course, is that this hero has been forged in a crucible of broken knuckles and cheating death and scrounging for a living on the mean streets of post-Roman Londinium. This is the Han Solo to Darth Vader, and what that really means is the King Arthur who retrieves the sword from the stone in Guy Riche’s telling is a whole other animal to any mythos that we’re familiar with. A lot of the central figures of the Arthurian legend are missing in this retelling. There’s the vague idea that Merlin’s out in the world somewhere, perhaps in hiding from Vortigan. The monolithic figure of Mordred gets killed off in the first five minutes after playing into Vortigan’s plot to overthrow his brother, Uther. There’s no Guinevere, only a mysterious woman known only as the Mage, apparently sent by Merlin, who acts as both spiritual guide and shrink for King Arthur. Of course, there is a sword in a stone which must be retrieved by the true king of England—the Born King, in this case. The stone in which Arthur pulls Excalibur from is, in fact, his father’s magically petrified body which is a very cool, poetic representation of the he took up his father’s sword storyline. (Also, super disturbing when you really get to thinking about it. No wonder baby!Arthur repressed the hell out of that shit) There’s cameos from a couple of the Knights of the Round Table; notably Sir Bedivere, who doesn’t normally crack a mention in film adaptations. He’s played by Djimon Housou , our resident Token Black Dude. A Chinese Sir George and an ethically ambiguous Sir Tristan also get a place at the Round Table. Don’t get me wrong; there’s a lot wrong with this film. To start with, it doesn’t even come close to passing the Bechtel Test, the lowest possible bar you could set for female representation. It’s whiter than me after a summer in New Zealand and it plays fast and loose with history. (Seriously, this is a fantasy Dark Ages King Arthur shoved into a post-Roman occupation Britain and costumes that are aiming more to make Charlie Hunnam look good than historical accuracy.) Look, it’s a fantasy. We can suspend our disbelief for psychically-controlled war elephants and wish-granting squid-ladies, we can probably work with gangster Arthur raised in a brothel owning a pristine white jacket and being taught kung fu by a Chinese dude who doesn’t seem to have any other occupation. It’s also got David Beckham wearing scar make-up and a prosthetic nose, some seriously cool special effects, a banging soundtrack, and Charlie Hunnam. So, screw it. I’m allowed to have the occasional guilty pleasure, and this one is mine.