Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To

Thoughts On Rome (The HBO Show)

  • Titties and ding-dongs, Enthusiasts.
  • Nothin’ but titties and ding-dings.
  • And the Battle of Actium.
  • Titties, ding-dongs, and the Battle of Actium: what more could you ask in a teevee program?
  • Rome ran on HBO from 2005-07 and then they cancelled it because it cost a trillion fucking dollars a show.
  • But, oddly, still manages to look cheap as shit in places.
  • When the characters are inside: perfect.
  • Everything’s dirty and half-lit and there’s graffiti all over and the beds looks uncomfortable.
  • Outside?
  • Lotta real tight shots of people arguing in front of columns.
  • Forget about the battle sequences.
  • There’s one.
  • But mostly, there’s scenes where Caesar or Mark Antony walk back into their tent and say, “What a great victory!”
  • Or some guys on horseback on top of a hill pretending to oversee the fight.
  • Whatever: all that action crap is for the movies; this is television and what works on television is talking.
  • So much talking.
  • Literally all Cicero does is jabber away at motherfuckers.
  • Until he gets his hands cut off and nailed to the Senate door.
  • The New York Times says that the U.S. Senate is in the worst shape it’s even been in, but I don’t see any hands nailed to the door.
  • Point: modernity.
  • And, because it’s Ancient Rome, everyone does their talking in British accents.
  • (There are three reasons for this: 1. the difference between the rich characters’ posh speech and the poor ones’ Scottish or Geordie or whatnot provides a quick shorthand to status; 2. At this point, it would just be weird for Ancient Romans not to have British accents; and 3. It’s not like you could do the job sounding like an American: “Hey, Mark Antony! How ya doin’? Hot as balls out here, huh?” It doesn’t work.)
  • Okay, you got Lucius Vorenus and Titus Pullo.
  • They’re soldiers fighting with Caesar in Gaul and they’re also basically Forrest Gump: present for every important event during the series.
  • Cleopatra smuggles herself back into her palace in a rug?
  • Pullo is carrying the rug.
  • Caesar goes to work on March 15th?
  • Vorenus is his bodyguard.
  • You’ll never guess who taught young Augustus Octavian to sword fight.
  • Unless you guess “Pullo.”
  •  So: as the historically-minded among you will have realized, the show is set from 50-30 BC.
  • (The Ancient Romans did not think they were living in 50-30 BC. Romans didn’t really number their years, instead referring to them by the names of the Consuls who were in charge. Do not forget this: the Romans were fucking oddballs. We think they’re like us because all our fancy buildings look like their fancy buildings, but they’re such strange humans.)
  • That’s when Rome went from being a Republic, ruled by a Senate and Consuls, to an Empire ruled by an Emperor.
  • The First and Second Triumvirates; Et tu, Brutus; Mark Antony going native; all that shit.
  • This is one of Rome‘s greatest problems: you know what’s gonna happen.
  • And if you don’t, well, that’s on you.
  • I’m not saying you should be able to name all four emperors from 69 AD, commonly referred to as the Year of Four Emperors.
  • Galba, Otho, Vitellius, Vespasian.
  • You looked that up.
  • I did, but I knew offhand that “the Year of Four Emperors” was a thing.”
  • I’ll give it to you.
  • Thank you.
  • What I’m saying is this: you should know this story already.
  • This leads to the occasional shout to the teevee: “JUST STAB THE BALD BASTARD ALREADY!”
  • Although Rome‘s Caesar is not bald, or even balding.
  • Nor is he skinny or hawk-nosed.
  • Those are the only three physical characteristics of Caesar we know for certain; every contemporaneous writer mentions them, and his soldiers used to sing a song with the line “Hide your wives, for we bring with us the bald-headed adulterer.”
  • Instead, he’s played by this guy:
  • Ciarán Hinds.
  • I’ll give you a shiny quarter if you pronounce that right the first time.
  • The guy on the right is Lucius Vorenus.
  • He gets made a Senator, and don’t ask how.
  • Through intrigue, I would suppose.
  • Holy shit, did these people intrigue!
  • Nothing but whispering and secret alliances and overheard conversations and “Ha-ha, but there’s something YOU don’t know, Pompey Magnus.”
  • Pompey Magnus is Latin for “The biggest Pompey there is; go search the world, and you’ll not find a larger Pompey.”
  • Astoundingly concise language, Latin.
  • Even if you don’t care for the dramatics, or the titties and ding-dongs, Rome is worth the viewing just for the production design.
  • The tunics are weakly-dyed, and you can see the ragged seams and uneven stitching.
  • Even the little stuff, like the fact that everyone’s haircut is janky (excepting the rich ladies, who would have owned hairdressing slaves).
  • Anyway, Caesar (whose name isn’t Caesar, it’s Gaius of the Julii) comes back to Rome from Gaul, but he brings his army with him.
  • Which you’re totally not supposed to do.
  • The Senate is super-pissed.
  • They’re all, “WTF, Caesar?”
  • And Caesar’s like, “Oh, those legions lol?”
  • He declares himself a god.
  • As one does.
  • So Brutus says to Cassius, “Yo. We gotta murder this bitch.”
  • And Cassius says to Brutus, “Dante isn’t gonna like that.”
  • I’m recounting the conversation from memory, so the quotes may not be exact.
  • Again we return to our primary obstacle towards enjoyment with Rome: this material has been covered, and by better writers.
  • The creative team punted on the funeral scene.
  • Straight-up surrendered.
  • There’s a scene where Mark Antony manipulates Brutus into having a public ceremony for Caesar.
  • CUT TO: Mark Antony and Brutus walking back into the room from the previous scene.
  • “Whew,” Mark Antony says. “That did not go well for you.”
  • I can almost respect that: a narrative choice made out of fear of comparison.
  • And then Octavian is 20 years old.
  • Rome does that soap opera thing where the children age rapidly, but the grown-ups don’t age at all.
  • TotD Breaks Down The Titties:
  • All the titties.
  • You get to see the titties of every single actress on the program.
  • If they’re a woman with dialogue, they’re getting them titties out.
  • TotD Breaks Down The Ding-Dongs
  • Just Brutus and Mark Antony, plus a slave with an enormous ding-dong.
  • Warning: foreskins.
  • The second season is a complete mess: HBO cancelled the show halfway through production, so the producers jammed what would have been season three and four in there.
  • You got Mark Antony fucking off to Egypt, plus Octavian’s rise in Rome, plus Caesar’s niece and Brutus’ mother catfighting, plus Vorenus and Pullo become gangsters, plus Herod the Great shows up.
  • Basically, it’s Antony and Cleoptra mixed up with the Gospel of Matthew, the Aeneid, the Sopranos, and the scene from Dynasty where Joan Collins and the blonde lady fought in the swimming pool.
  • It’s a lot of material to cover in twelve episodes.
  • And perhaps the producers bit off a bit more dormouse than they could chew.
  • (The Romans ate mice. They would roast them and dip them in honey. The Romans also ate weasels and swans and just about anything that walked, swam, or fucked.)
  • And that is Rome‘s fatal flaw: you just can’t taste the dormice.
  • Is that how you’re ending this?
  • I’m sleepy.
  • I hope you have nightmares.

1 Comment

  1. mikemj

    I just finished watching Animal House with my son who’s home from college for the weekend. Close enough?

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