timsmith37

While there would seem to be no shortage of those who have watched Troy: Fall of a City and feel compelled to splutter their outrage at failings real and imagined, this is not in itself unusual and seems insufficient to account for the sort of IMDb rating usually reserved for 1970's British sex comdies and SyFy Channel made-for-TV movies featuring mutated wildlife. From comments posted by other reviewers there would appear to have been a concerted campaign of posting one star ratings before the show aired. Judging from vitriol I have seen heaped on the show elsewhere online this would seem to originate with Greek nationalists outraged by what they see as the BBC's politically correct cultural appropriation - a concept to make The Guardian's identity politics mullahs heads spin.

Colour blind casting can be problematic - a recent drama documentary on the Battle of Hastings featured a Norman knight of distinctly non-Viking ancestry, which, given the factual context, I found rather distracting. But if Zeus could be a bull, a swan or a shower of gold, then I am sure that if the whim took him he could be a person of colour. As for Achilles, I shall chose to assume that we are deprived of his famous golden locks only because of the number zero razor cut. While the casting of Aeneas would doubtless have had Virgil rotating in his grave, for me none of this is an issue. The way I see it, if Greeks of the heroic age can speak (decidedly) modern English, David Gyasi's ebony hues as Achilles are no more incongrous than the Celtic pallor flaunted by Jonas Armstrong's Menelaus. But then it is not my culture.

As for the programme itself, the plot is suprisingly faithful in following Homeric era legend. While this sometimes plodding literalism might reflect a lack of artifice on the part of the screenwriters, I do find it refreshing to have an adaptation of a classic that does not impertinently attempt to improve upon the source material. The real issue with the script is the dialogue, which blends Eastenders ersatz naturalness with thudding declatory pronouncements. There is alas none of the verbal dexterity that distinguishes Game of Thrones, the series this so painfully aspires to be.

But it is as handsomely mounted as a BBC budget allows, and the cinematography is pleasing on the eye, as are the cast. Helen is always a tough role to fill, but surrounding the perfectly passable Bella Dayne with ladies just as lovely rather detracts from her supposedly unique voluptuosness. Even, Hecuba, played by Frances O'Connor, who could pass for being younger than some of her on-screen sons, gives this Helen a run for her money. If some of the younger actors seem a little out of their depth, the likes of Joseph Mawle as Oddysseus and Johnny Harris as Agammememnon are there to bring some serious acting heft.

If one suspends ones critical faculties a little, this is entertaining enough Saturday night viewing to tide us over until our next visit ot Westeros.

The plot is the usual fluff carried by the leads charm. but the episode is notable for the presence on screen of four iconic Seventies beauties: Valerie Leon, Madeline Smith, Anouska Hempel and Nicola Pagett.

Notice there is a word missing from the title? That's right Plot. The Gunpowder Plot was a conspiracy, and a conspiracy by definition is not all about one person. Thirteen men plotted to blow up the King and government, kidnap the princess royal, foment an armed rebellion and seize the reigns of state with the aid of a foreign power. It was daring, almost certainly stupid and heroically irresponsible.

Robert Catesby is important yes, because he had the vision and the charisma to persuade twelve very different individuals to sign up for this madcap scheme. But that is part of the problem here: the vision is elusive and, in Kit Harrington's stolid performance there is precious little charisma. As for the remaining conspirators, they are blanks, even Guy Fawkes is nothing more than a by-the-numbers Tom Hardy tribute act. We know nothing about them or what drew them into the plot. In focussing so exclusively on the part played by his aristocratic ancestor, Harrington does not just do a disservice to the other conspirators (half of whom do not get speaking parts), he also drains all the tension from the conspiracy storyline. There should be clashing personalities and differing agendas, paranoia and suspicions, false starts and difficulties encountered; above all as the conspiracy reaches it's climax there should be jangling nerves. It's hard to care about the inner turmoil of characters you have not been properly introduced to, and in fairness the script does not even make the attempt.

Instead we get spurious action sequences, such as Catesby's rescue of John Gerard, who actually escaped from the Tower a decade earlier and without Catesby's assistance, and hackneyed Hollywood moments, such as the climatic sequence when Butch Catesby and the Wintourdance Kid charge out in slow motion onto the guns of the Bolivian police force.

Above all the focus is on Catesby and his motivations, all seen through a prism of modern sensibilities and contemporary relevance. And that again is a problem, as the history gets mucked around quite a lot in order to make these points. If you are going to depict atrocities in prurient detail and justify them as providing the context for your character's actions, then you can expect to be called out if you over-egg the pudding.

The look of the show is good, if a little underlit, but the script is hack work and the performances, for the most part (Liv Tyler as Anne Vaux is a luminous exception) either soapily two-dimensional or pantomime broad. The ubiquitous Gatiss renders a particularly ripe King Rat as that fascinating statesman Robert Cecil. (Historical accuracy would incidentally have been better served by a shorter Cecil and a taller Catesby.)

Since Harrington is milking his moment in the sun to get vanity projects commissioned on the lives of his ancestors, I shall look forward with eager anticipation to a three-part drama on the inventor of the flush toilet, an achievement worthy of celebration. Would that someone at the BBC had pulled the chain on this production.