Not Your Father's Camelot

More than thirty years after its theatrical release, John Boorman’s Excalibur is still an outrageously galvanic depiction of Arthurian legend

by Tony Dayoub

"...Anál nathrach, orth’ bháis’s bethad, do chél dénmha. Anál nathrach, orth’ bháis’s bethad, do chél dénmha..."

- Merlin, reciting the charm of making

On the occasion of director John Boorman's 80th birthday, I call attention to my personal favorite of his films. Boorman's bloody, erotic, violent and ultimately enchanting Excalibur (1981) is the definitive motion picture version of Sir Thomas Malory's Le Morte d'Arthur. There have been many notable film adaptations, each focusing on a different aspect of the legend: Knights of the Round Table (1953) centers on the friendship between Arthur and his best knight, Lancelot of the Lake; Disney's animated The Sword in the Stone (1963) adapts the T.H. White version of the story, a humorous look at Arthur's magical upbringing by the wizard Merlin and the events leading to Arthur's coronation; and 1967's Camelot (adapted from the musical of the same name) riffs on White's later stories about the love triangle between Arthur, Lancelot, and Queen Guenevere. Excalibur's strength lies in the way its story, told in a short 140 minutes, encompasses all of the other films' themes while still introducing its own central motif. Boorman's film most resembles Knights of the Round Table because both share Malory's tale as a primary source; such iconic imagery as a meeting of the knights at Stonehenge, or a floating, shimmering Holy Grail appearing in a vision to the brave knight Perceval (Paul Geoffrey in Boorman’s version) are important to both films. Excalibur also integrates the playful relationship between Arthur (Nigel Terry) and his mystical mentor central to Sword in the Stone, and the idea of the king's betrayal by his closest loved ones as the root cause for the kingdom's destruction (as touched upon in Camelot). Yet Boorman also brings an auteurial component missing from previous filmic endeavors.

Cronenberg Blogathon: Spider (2002)

by Tony Dayoub

Fragmentation.

Like the shoestring webs Dennis "Spider" Cleg (Ralph Fiennes) weaves in his room slice space into fragments, Cleg's mind is splintered, broken. Those who fail to see evidence of Cronenberg's "body horror" aesthetic in Spider are fixated on the gore and violence of his early career. One need only look at how Cleg's mind betrays him—a subtler but just as threatening betrayal to his identity as Seth Brundle's reluctant metamorphosis in The Fly (1986)—to see that the physical has now become metaphysical. Spider is a turning point where the maturation of this director fuses many elements from his oeuvre, internalizes them, and launches his body of work in a new direction.

TV Review: In Treatment - A Cure for the Writer's Strike Blues

by Tony Dayoub



Due to the ongoing writer's strike, the return of dramatic TV is looking increasingly bleak. HBO comes to the rescue with In Treatment. They couldn't have presented the drama at a better time, or in a more accessible format.