If Mr. Schama spoke any more slowly, more painstakingly divided his syllables, I might not recognize the language he speaks in.
More importantly, the writers and directors of pieces like this should recall what information is available at almost every viewer's fingertips. One can access a summary of most documentary subjects literally within a few minutes. I tested this hypothesis with the hour long piece on Turner. In a few keystrokes, I was able to find two summaries on the web that included most of the data Schama presents. Perhaps ten, 15 percent of what Schama tells or shows us remained harder to find, and what consisted of original analysis was nearly absent.
And what is the purpose of the cinema-like shots that suggest some sort of hint toward reenactments? There is often little rhyme or reason to when or why they occur. They last a second or two and seem selected based on their potential for filler and gloss. At one point, we see a hand in shallow focus scraping at a canvas. This is supposed to help us imagine Turner doing his work as a painter? Gimme a break.
Watching something like this is nearly a waste of time. I suppose you could turn down the volume and imagine your own narration. Better still, go to a museum or library instead. At least you'll get off your couch.
