"And now I'm totally '70'd out - look, I'm dressed as Roger Moore today." - John Simm, Back in crime, Toronto Star.
Now I don't know about you, but I've gone straight to the Persuaders place, which is equal parts amusing and alarming, and perhaps straight isn't quite the word to use in the same breath as The Persuaders either - grin. And dammit, there should have been a photo with the article. That, I would have paid to see.
Meanwhile, have you read this: Bosom Buddies 'Boston Legal' redefines guy relationships? It starts off Boston Legal but then dives into Pullo/Vorenus with a brief mention of Aubrey/Maturin in passing.
It's all about man love, and it's a pity it never mentions Life on Mars, because it would have been doubly relevant both in man love and production house. You know, I almost had a near positive thought about the American version of Life on Mars. Could it possibly involve actual male bonding? Up until now, I was thinking no, despite American tv and films having practically invented the buddy show.
Ah, but the concept of homosocial bonding, or rather, romantic friendships - where to start? The Persuaders? Rome? Life on Mars?
The article has this to say about Rome:
Heller is the executive producer and co-creator of "Rome." Set in the time of Julius Caesar and Mark Antony, the HBO series pivots on the aforementioned relationship of two Roman soldiers played by Kevin McKidd and Ray Stevenson.
"In real life, those kinds of intimate, close, loving relationships (between men) are very rare," Heller says from Rome, where he is shooting the show's upcoming season, set to begin in January. "Romantic love is relatively easy to find in the world. But to find a friend of that sort you can rely on through thick and thin ... is rare. It's a great charge for men in watching that kind of friendship blossom. It's something that a lot of men wish they had but don't have with each other."
Stevenson's Titus Pullo is a soulful brute with a huge appetite for wine, women and blood who admires and is loyal to his friend. McKidd's Lucius Vorenus is Pullo's commanding officer, a professional soldier and honorable family man, at once appalled by Pullo's ways yet protective of him. In one scene, Vorenus defies Caesar and leaps into a gladiators' ring to save the condemned Pullo's life just as he is about to be killed.
Never mind the whole expensive doctoring and keeping after the bar brawl episode. Lucius might snap and scowl at Titus, but when it really counts, he goes to great lengths to save and protect him. Now that is love. True love.
Titus, meanwhile, proves his love by torturing and killing the man who knocked up Lucius' wife. Slightly less gallant, but by no means less heartfelt.
Seventies copper love is not like any other love. Or, at least, it's rare to see such hearty male bonding outside of the Seventies, sad to say (Soldier Soldier, Stargate, Farscape and Hercules being notable exceptions). I'm talking a real sharing of best and worst moments here, a real, raw emotional bond, rather than simply colleagues. I'm talking blood, sweat, tears and beers.
Sam and Gene certainly qualify. Whatever the hell is up with Sam, he's found his match in Gene Hunt. Like all the best marriages, and the article does describe it as a marriage by action if not definition, they fight, and fight hard, they are rude and belittling, but so very loyal and operating to the world as a tight unit. Gene is always there to rescue Sam (slightly one sided there, as Sam is often the damsel in distress, see episodes 2&3, though Sam did save DCI bacon in 4), and they turn to each other for comfort and support and quiet confidences.
Despite initial and continuing clashes, it's a friendship of great depth and warmth and despite all his protestations, it is Gene who Sam trusts and looks to. They clearly enjoy each other's company, always off to the pub, staying back at the pub, off for a curry, never mind the long lingering looks - behold the sexual tension (okay, actually tasted in my fics, but the subtext is clearly there in the actual text). And did I mention the inability to keep their hands off each other, either in anger or protection or rough-housing or, any excuse, really, for a bit of touchy feely? He's a tactile man, Our Gene.
I could witter on for hours about the love Gene and Sam share, but I keep getting interrupted, and seem to be talking to myself in any case, so I will instead post the tiny piece I attempted today with a near record of half a dozen interruptions:
Gene watched Sam flip through the file with a certain weariness.
"I didn't invite you out to dinner to talk shop," Gene reminded, feeling he shouldn't have to say it, but seeing quite obviously that he needed to say it.
"It doesn't have to be work all the time, you know," he reminded further. "You need a hobby," he sighed at last.
"I have a hobby," Sam answered.
His tone was dry and dismissive, but the look he flicked Gene over the top of the file for a split second, all sparking challenge and velvet, molten promise, had Gene's skin prickling, almost sweating, in anticipation. An anticipation never to be sated, if Gene was any scholar at how these nights usually ended, which was either in the intrusion of harsh reality, an argument or Sam suddenly hitting the switch for insanity again. He was a strange one, Sam. Perfectly lucid one moment, talking utter shite the next, but it was part of the elusive, hard to pin down yet obvious charm that so beguiled DCI Hunt.
Sadly, precious few of these little 'business' dinners ever ended up in Sam's grim little bedsit, with that horrid tinny little bed bouncing up and down and threatening to collapse beneath them at any moment. Even that barely sated Gene's full and lubricious desires, but it would have to do. Assuming they ever got that far, of course.
It wasn't a promising start, with Sam sitting opposite, buried in paperwork, whether for an actual need to be working or just for effect, Gene could never be certain. Sam, when sane, could hold his cards very close to his chest, and Gene had long since learnt this the hard and expensive way over a not quite so friendly game of poker. What game Sam was playing now, Gene couldn't hazard a guess. Hard to get? Coyly flirtatious? Or on the turn again?
I don't know where this fits in my current fics. I think it could be the start of a new story. Good grief, can I finish one first?
And now, nasty, boring reality intrudes, alas. I mean, dammit, everytime I flip open this window and try to type something, that hideous crone appears at my shoulder. What? She's got a red light at her desk that goes off every time I type S-A-M or G-E-N-E? Probably, yeah.
Here's some words I never want to hear over the phone: "What's browser?". How on earth has someone this computer illiterate has survived umpteen restructures? And for all their whining about me using jargon, well, it's like explaining how to use a car: a certain amount of jargon has to happen, like door, and wheels. Sheesh.
TV DRAMA HERE IS BEST IN THE WORLD (Simm)
TV Review: Life On Mars on BBC America-An American's Point Of View
OH NO IT'S 1973 AGAIN (links to Simm)
John Simm (lotsa pics)
Stargate SG-1 May Lose Place In Record Book
Sydney Theatre Company 2007 Season Launch (Weaving)
The Morning After: The Persuaders
Mona Lisa revealed
Mark my words
Satellite snaps topless sunbathers
Agency makes breaking up easier
Is there anybody out there?