What We’re Watching, Vol. 14: July 2020

At The Attic on Eighth, we are clearly a multimedia bunch, with our regular reading discussions and film lists. In fact, some of our very first interactions as friends were excitedly messaging scene for scene reactions to shared shows across oceans and time zones. In this monthly series we gather to chat our most recent views. Nothing keeps us close like binge-watching together, even if we’re not in the same room.

As the world spins madly on, we continue to turn to our screens to connect over the shows and films that have been keeping us company through July 2020. 

Rachel Tay

The impossibility of travel and public gatherings during a global pandemic has, unfortunately, entailed the cancellation of many of our routine summer highlights. Amongst them: Glastonbury, Wimbledon, and Love Island (Iain Stirling’s blaring, caustic, Scottish-accented voice will be sorely missed). But above all, what we — by which I mean I — will miss most this year is the annual European song competition, Eurovision. After all, what is the hot and muggy fever dream of summer without the promise of yet another Swedish hit, an outrageously costumed metal band, or a chromed-up drag queen marching across my TV screen to a ridiculously catchy accordion hook? Nothing else, it seems, could ever come close to equalling the psychotropic, too-long months of April-May-June-July. Thus, without Graham Norton’s incredulous chuckles to remind us of the very potential for hilarity imbued within the surreal, it appears that we are left only to flounder through summer’s drowsy, dank plateau with no levity in sight.

Thank goodness for Will Ferrell. 

I can’t quite remember when and where I was alerted to its existence, but I knew I had to watch Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga on the day that it was released, given how much I adore its eponymous source material. Without knowing that it was, in fact, a typical Will Ferrell comedy à la Anchorman — I’d mistakenly understood it to be a Netflix documentary — and without even watching its trailer, I plunged straight into the movie expecting nothing but pure camp. Delightfully, this tribute to the long-beloved competition was that and much more. Lest I spoil anything, I won’t reveal much about its plot here. But all I will say is this: you should clearly watch the movie if you’re a fan of Eurovision, if you’re up for some deep-belly laughs, if you can’t get enough of glitter and sequins, and, oh, if you’d like to be surprised by Dan Stevens (and his impeccably waxed chest). However, you should also watch the movie if you belong to neither of those groups, for right when I thought that nothing on TV could stir my interest or affect any longer, Ferrell delivers on such immense pathos that one cannot help but be moved. Like Eurovision itself, this movie is ultimately an exuberant celebration of camaraderie, love, and creative expression. For this reason, I am crowning it as a more than worthy substitute for this year’s Eurovision Song Contest — a joyous salve for our grim present. 

Grusha Singh

Due to the current state of the world (as well as being on summer break), I have been consuming a lot of Netflix. Last month, I binge watched season 3 of Medici, which is a fabulous show about a Florentine banking family and their many trials and tribulations in Italy. It’s a stunning show and I highly recommend it. More recently, I have been watching a show called High Seas, which is a Spanish murder mystery series that takes place on a luxurious ship in the 1940’s. I’ve been really enjoying the aesthetics and the fast-paced plotline. 

Amy Richardson

For once in my life I am actually watching television as it’s being broadcast! I have been gripped by The Salisbury Poisonings on BBC One, a mini-series shown over three consecutive nights telling the story of the poisoning of Sergei and Yulia Skripal in 2018. Close enough to still be in our collective memories, but far enough away that the details have become hazy, this series used extensive interviews with those involved to create the show. Although I know how it ends, it’s been fascinating to watch. I have also been loving David Olusoga’s A House Through Time, also on the BBC. I loved the first two series of the show and the third one has surpassed the others. Choosing an older house, this time we look at the history of Bristol through the stories of its residents. Bristol was one of the main centres of the British inclusion in the slave trade, so the sheduling has proved very timely. I am also watching another of Olusoga’s series, Black and British from 2017. I only saw part of the final episode when it was first shown, stumbling across it when babysitting one night. However, I bought the book on kindle and it was a fascinating read. The series is currently being re-shown and it is just as good as the book. Next I’m hoping to persuade my parents to finally start watching the recent adaptation of Noughts + Crosses, which had a powerful impact on me when I read it as a teen. I’ve been waiting for it to be adapted for years! I’m hoping that the new adaptation of Eleanor Catton’s The Luminaries will be worth the wait too.

Zoë G. Burnett

The return of Unsolved Mysteries on Netflix has given me something new to shout about in my room by myself. It’s either that or the reboot of Supermarket Sweep currently screening on my iPad. I did, however, extend myself to watch The Sheltering Sky (1990) last night. Directed by Bernardo Bertolucci, the film is based on the 1949 “novel of alienation and despair” by Paul Bowles. The entire production is so louche and dry that it seemed to be deliberately making fun of itself, sadly not so. John Malkovich’s performance is caricaturish, as though he was doing an impression of every other role he’s ever performed. Co-star Debra Winger’s character can be described by looking up the standard attributes of a Pisces. Neither role is likeable in any way, and that seems to have been intentional.

Thirty years later, the film’s value lies in one fabulous late 1940s look after another, combined with intimate views of daily life in and around the Sahara Desert. The most provocative aspect of the story, especially now, is the role reversal of white Americans being stranded and helpless in a part of the world where few speak their language, none look like them, and most frankly don’t give a damn. Some plot points and scenes were disturbingly relevant to the current state of things, and that was even less welcome viewing than Malkovich’s entirely unnecessary full frontal and rear nudity for a good ten seconds on screen. What is it about the desert that gets people so ready to get down? Maybe I’ll rewatch The English Patient and Lawrence of Arabia for some answers.

Olivia Gündüz-Willemin

Like Rachel, the highlight of my month has been Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga. It is objectively not a very good movie, but it is hands down the single film since Emma. to bring me so much joy. Eurovision isn’t something I regularly watch myself, but 2020 is the year for it, and I must confess: it’s something that is somewhat sacred in my home. My husband watches it every year – and really, tends to do a live radio show on it – and his favorite piece of family trivia to share is that his great-uncle wrote the song that won the very first Eurovision contest in 1956. How then could we not watch The Story of Fire Saga as soon as it came out? I’m glad we did because it was pure joy. It got the spirit of the contest, and while it might not have been quite satirical because Eurovision is just that over-the-top, I found that it had the very best of comedic social satire going for it. Ridiculous but wonderful.

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