There are 5 messages totalling 610 lines in this issue. Topics of the day: 1. Season Five DVDs: Comes a Horseman (pt 1/2) 2. Season Five DVDs: Comes A Horseman (pt 2/2) 3. 'Best Of' Really? (3) ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Date: Mon, 1 Nov 2004 18:26:13 -0500 From: kageorge <kageorge@erols.com> Subject: Season Five DVDs: Comes a Horseman (pt 1/2) This one is broken into two parts because of length. The entire commentary, with screen captures, is at: http://www.wordsmiths.net/MacGeorge/episodes/Season5/CAH.htm COMMENTARY: David A. tells us that CAH was “the quintessential Highlander episode.” Great locations, great sex, incredible villains, wonderful drama, great surprises. Putting CAH and Rev. 6 together and spending $20 million dollars on it would have made an incredible feature film. David says he doesn’t remember who had the original idea, but that the best story discussions were where no one was “keeping score,” and there was a free flow of ideas. The general idea was, what if the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse were four evil Immortals who “cut a swatch through Arabia and the entire world”? We know that Methos is 5,000 years old, and it made sense – especially since the Methos we know now is not a saint – that he would be evil for some portion of his life. David said Peter Wingfield was the perfect guy to play it because not only did he have the strength to play the villain, he also had the ability to shrug his shoulders and say, “shit happens” and move on. David was particularly fond of the jimmy scene where MacLeod is up against the car, unwilling or unable to believe that Methos had done such evil in his past, and Methos turns on him, saying yes, he did it because he *liked* it. Valentine Pelka comments that he doesn’t understand why, despite budgetary differences and time constraints, television drama cannot be shot like a film. He says that was what the 99th and 100th episodes of Highlander were shot as and, “were fantastic.” He tells us that if he were defined by the roles he played, including Kronos, he would be a really twisted individual, so “thank God, hopefully, I’m not that.” Val opines that he didn’t really see Kronos as strictly a stock bad guy. Kronos was put on earth to fulfill a certain function, and one of the most liberating things about playing the character, in comparison with playing someone like Hamlet, who is a man with scruples, was to play someone without scruples. There are no constraints, and there was an enjoyable liberation about playing Kronos, “coupled with the fact that the four of us got on like a house on fire.” He says the only thing Kronos truly needs is Methos, and the scene where he greets and stabs Methos to death is an apocalyptic/Immortal version of saying, “Surprise!” and punching him in the stomach. Peter W. says the whole idea was “fantastic” and a reflection on the strength of the Methos character for people to be able to look at the character and say, “Oh, my goodness, it’s possible.” It was exciting to do, and the script was terrific, with many great scenes. Playing Methos was, for Peter, like going to drama school because the challenges were always different. In a practical sense, the swordfights were a challenge, and in the Horsemen episode, he had to get on a horse, and Peter couldn’t ride. Then there were emotional challenges, where he encountered a huge range of vulnerable places: falling in love, great grief, then to show the anger, the rage and violence demanded an enormous stretch for him as an actor. In the meeting where he and Cassandra first see each other, and that, “Okay, I’m in *big* trouble, here,” moment, Peter wasn’t sure how in control Methos was from the moment he sees Cassandra, and from the moment that Kronos appears in his life, rekindling all those parts in Methos that loved that life (and Kronos knows it). Roger Bellon, the composer, who says he wasn’t just a composer, he was also a fan of the show, tells us that not only was the script great, but you were dealing with the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, which is a very operatic, dark and deep subject. Also the shots were big and filmic, and the music had to be dark and poignant and sound interesting. He remembers having to find an interesting “hook”, which ended up being a dark piano arpeggio which could underlie the Horsemen, but could also be interesting and provide a unique approach to the almost hell-like emotional aspect of the movie. For the flashback, it was supposed to give an impression of an ancient time and presented a different kind of problem. He used references to old American Indian chants, wooden pipes and percussive sounds that he could find on recordings of ancient tribal hymns. OUTAKES: They show twenty minutes worth of the jimmy scene outtakes, one after another. Each is slightly different, but each is incredibly intense. There are no words sufficient to describe the subtleties of them. THE EPISODE: Duncan and Methos emerge from a building where “Adam Pierson” had gone to tryout for a new game show, the “Wheel of History”. Duncan derides his efforts, accusing Methos of doing it out of an “oversized ego”. As they walk to Duncan’s car exchanging quips, they feel the presence of another Immortal. Methos’ reaction is to split, and he is disdainful of Duncan’s desire to find out “who’s around.” Amid some steam, Duncan spots a man with a scar down his face, and recognizes the Immortal. In a flashback to South Texas, in1867, where Duncan is a scout for the Texas Rangers, he tracks down a group of marauders led by Immortal Melvin Koren. In a classic old west confrontation, the Rangers and the bad guys fight, and Koren almost manages to behead MacLeod, but is shot by another Ranger. Koren is buried, and escapes. In the present, Koren slips away and Duncan continues to explore the area, feeling an Immortal once again. It is Cassandra, who is also hunting Koren, whom she calls Kronos. Cassandra is distraught in her obsessive zeal to find and kill Kronos. Back at the loft she tells Duncan about her first death at Kronos’ hands when he was one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. She was a healer, and the Horsemen “were monsters,” bringing terror and death to her entire world. “Where they were, life ceased. They were without mercy. They were without fear.” In a flashback to the Bronze Age, we watch four masked riders descend on a peaceful village where Cassandra lived with her adoptive father and both were the village’s healers. When Cassandra’s father pleads with them, saying they have nothing the Horsemen want, the leader takes off his mask. It is Kronos. “Then you die,” he announces, and kills him, and the other Horsemen proceed to slaughter everyone in the village. Weeping, Cassandra tells Duncan that that day was the end of her world. She says she had tried to forget what had happened but when she learned that Kronos was alive, all the hate and pain returned. They go to Joe, who is initially dubious about the whole notion of four Immortals being the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, but he ultimately agrees to look into what the Watchers know about Melvin Koren. Methos is headed to his GMC truck that evening, when he feels another Immortal, turns and is stabbed through the heart. “Greetings, Brother,” Kronos moves in as Methos gasps his name and dies. Methos revives inside a deserted power station, with Kronos standing over him holding a length of heavy chain. Kronos cheerily comments about it having been a long time and asks if Methos has gone soft. “I just passed through my angry adolescence a little quicker than you, Kronos!” Methos snarls back. Kronos tells Methos that he had thought Methos was dead until he heard rumors and went looking. He says he shouldn’t have been surprised, that Methos wasn’t the strongest or the toughest, but he was a survivor. “It’s what you do best.” He offers Methos a choice: Losing his head, or joining him. “Since you put it that way,” Methos answers grimly. “Welcome back, brother.” Methos goes to see Duncan at the dojo, and starts to tell Duncan about “something unexpected” coming up but Duncan interrupts, asking Methos if he ever heard of Kronos. Methos is taken aback and hesitates, then they both feel Cassandra as she enters. She takes one look at Methos and attacks him. (Methos: “You don’t know me!” Cassandra: “Do you think I could ever forget you?!”) Duncan puts himself between them. In another flashback, we are in the Horsemen’s camp. One of the Horsemen has taken Cassandra as a slave, and when he takes off his mask it is Methos. He tells her they had killed her entire village, “including you,” saying that she lived because he wished it and that she would stay alive as long as she pleased him. When she resists he hits her. “That did not please me.” Then he strokes her, telling her he was Methos, and that she should never forget that she lived to serve him. She spits at him as he walks away, intervening between two other Horsemen arguing over a robe. They are on the verge of violence when Methos threatens Caspian, saying if he had to “lose one, it will be you.” When Kronos steps up, asking if there is a problem, the men step back deferentially. Kronos splits the robe in two pieces, one for each man, stating flatly that they “share everything.” During the distraction, Cassandra tries to escape but Methos stops her, telling her he will kill her as many times as it takes to tame her. In the present, as Cassandra attacks, Methos denies it was him and calls upon MacLeod to “Do something!” Duncan holds onto Cassandra, yelling at Methos to get out of there. Cassandra is incensed that Duncan interfered, insisting that Methos is lying, that he was one of the Horsemen, killing and raping alongside Kronos. At the bar, Joe tells Duncan he’s not buying Methos and Kronos being the Horsemen, saying that Methos was the one Immortal he knew who never looked for a fight, that Cassandra had lived with her obsession for thousands of years, that maybe she’s delusional, or a liar, asking Duncan what he really knows about Cassandra. “What do I really know about Methos?” Duncan asks in return. “Can you imagine him murdering women and children for pleasure?” Joe asks. “No,” Duncan answers. Joe says Duncan should listen to his gut, but Duncan says that his instincts are not enough, and Joe says there is no proof either way. “Then I’m just going to have to find my own,” Duncan responds. Methos goes back to Kronos at his warehouse hideout, and Kronos acknowledges that Methos was smart to come back, that he knows Kronos would track him down, no matter how long it took, and kill him. “It’s nice to feel wanted,” Methos says snidely. “Not want! NEED!” Kronos tells Methos that he had tried to “take up the old ways” many times, but always failed because the others were “scum”, and he didn’t have anyone to plan his raids, anyone “who understood the true use of terror.” He says Methos is one of a kind, that never in history was there a band like theirs. As he speaks, Methos walks up behind him, sword drawn, but as he swings, Kronos is ready for him, having anticipated the move. Methos protests that he has changed, that he isn’t “like that anymore,” but Kronos says while he might have convinced himself he had changed, but inside he was still the same, that he had missed, “The Freedom! The Power! Riding out of the sun knowing that you’re the most terrifying they’d ever seen. Knowing that their weapons and their gods are useless against you. That you’re the last thing they’ll ever see.” As Methos closes his eyes against the memories and looks like he’s about to lose it, Kronos urges him not to fight the urges, but to feel them. Then he tells Methos that he will kill Cassandra for him, but in return Methos has to kill MacLeod. “But he’s my friend. He’s nothing to you. Why?” “Because he’s your friend. Because you still have to prove yourself and because YOU OWE ME!” Then he slices his palm and gives the blade to Methos, telling him to swear he will kill MacLeod. Methos slices his own palm, and they join hands, blood seeping through their fingers as Methos swears. Then we have the Jimmy scene, where Methos is storing things in his truck, evidently preparing to leave. MacLeod drives up, looking tense and stiff, asking what Methos was running from. Methos urges him to “let it be,” but Duncan asks if what Cassandra had told him was true. Methos tries to leave without answering, but Duncan physically stops him, demanding to know. Methos placatingly says that the times, the world and he was different. Duncan insists, “Did you kill all those people?” in a choked voice. Methos’ discomfort seems to resolve itself, his expression clears and he answers, “Yes!” Then Methos proceeds to pound the truth home again, saying killing was all he knew, “Is that what you want to hear?” “It’s enough,” Duncan answers, meeting his hard stare for a moment before turning away. But Methos grabs Duncan and slams him against the truck. “No, it is Not enough!” With a certain angry satisfaction, he tells Duncan he didn’t just kill a few, or even a lot, he killed ten thousand, and he was good at it.” Then he smilingly adds that it wasn’t for vengeance or greed, it was because he liked it, that Cassandra and her village were nothing to him and even laughs as he tells Duncan that he was Death on a horse. Duncan reverses their positions, slamming Methos against the truck in return as Methos smilingly relates that he was the monster that mothers scared their children with at night. “Is that what you want to hear!?” Methos demands again. “The answer is yes. Oh, yes.” Looking sucker-punched and near tears, Duncan barely manages to tell Methos, “We’re through.” Each man nods at the other, and Duncan turns and walks away. Duncan turns for one last look before he jerks off his coat and throws it in the car, getting in and speeding away. Methos looks after him, slams his coat into the truck, gets in and puts his head up against the steering wheel. Back at the loft, Joe tells a distraught Duncan that he’s not defending what Methos did, he’s just trying to understand it. Duncan is beside himself at the thought of Methos’ reign of death, but Joe insists they were “different times, different rules, different morals.” Duncan says he won’t compare it or excuse it, but Joe asks how much blood Duncan had shed in anger. Duncan says he knows what he’s done, and he has to live with it, but that this was different, that this was a “bunch of murdering bastards that burned and raped across two continents,” and that they butchered innocent women and children. Joe reminds Duncan that in Vietnam, he had seen innocents die in the crossfire. “This is different,” Duncan responds, relating with disgust that Methos enjoyed what he did, that he got pleasure from the killing. Then Joe gets a call. Cassandra’s Watcher had led them to Kronos at the old power station. At the power station, Kronos feels another Immortal. Assuming it is Methos, he calls out, “I hope you brought me his sword.” But it is Cassandra. Kronos is unimpressed, taunting her, telling her that Methos isn’t there, that he’s out “killing MacLeod.” She tries using the power of her Voice on him, but he is unaffected. She is no match for him as a fighter, and he disarms her. She slips away, but runs into Methos, who cold cocks her and dumps her into the river. Kronos is looking for Cassandra, but this time it is MacLeod he finds. It is a long, brutal battle, and as they fight, we see Methos starting several fires in the building. Finally, he pours a whole can of gasoline out and lights it. The fire spreads, finally dramatically exploding between the two fighters, separating them. Methos hits the fire alarm, and Kronos stares across the flames at MacLeod. “I can wait!” he calls. Back at the loft, a weary-looking Duncan is relieved to find Cassandra still alive. When she learns Duncan wasn’t able to kill Kronos, she says it “will never be over until they’re both dead.” “Then we’ll find them,” Duncan says resolutely, holding her. By the docks, Kronos has a sword to Methos’ neck, demanding to know why he stopped the fight, accusing him of saving MacLeod. “It could have gone either way,” Methos answers calmly. “I couldn’t take the chance.” “Are you afraid of me losing? Or him?” Kronos asks. When Methos is silent, Kronos suggests that he should kill Methos now to be sure he wasn’t wrong about him, but Methos says if does, Kronos will never have the Four Horsemen again, and announces that the remaining two horsemen, Silas and Caspian, are still alive, offering to lead Kronos to them. “Then you live,” Kronos acknowledges. “The Four Horsemen ride again,” he grins as “to be continued…” displays across the screen. MY COMMENTARY: In part 2. ------------------------------ Date: Mon, 1 Nov 2004 18:28:28 -0500 From: kageorge <kageorge@erols.com> Subject: Season Five DVDs: Comes A Horseman (pt 2/2) MY COMMENTARY: So much has been said over the years about this and the following episode, there is little new insight to be brought to it, I think. I can only express my own interpretations and opinions about what internal monologue may have been going on with the characters, and address some of the disagreements in interpretation of events or emotions or motivations that always seem to surface. #1: Did Methos recognize Cassandra when she first attacked him, or was he telling what he thought was the truth when he insisted he wasn’t the person she was after? My view: This one isn’t even a close call, for me. He knew her instantly. In the first place, he knew Caspian and Silas were alive, so he has obviously been tracking Immortals from the “old days” over the years. For him not to have similarly tracked Cassandra, who has good reason to wish him dead, is nonsensical. Second, he has all-too-recently been reminded of those events of so long ago, so they would be fresh on his mind. Methos is a quick thinker, the consummate survivor, and he instantly did the one thing that would guarantee his survival at that moment – he appealed to MacLeod to protect him. Yes, it was a lie, and in the long run it would deeply damage MacLeod’s trust in him and make the ultimate revelation about his past much, much more problematic, but rational discourse and truth-telling didn’t seem like an option at that particular moment. #2: Why did Methos reveal his past to MacLeod in a way virtually guaranteed to generate the worst possible reaction? Was he trying to push MacLeod away to protect him, or was it just a defensive response to an old, painful accusation? My view: I don’t think there is one, straightforward reason Methos reacted the way he did, or that Duncan reacted the way *he* did. These are two complex men in a complex relationship that has, as its foundation, the general notion that they are destined to possibly meet someday in combat to the death, and that their friendship is in defiance of that destiny. I refuse to make any broad generalizations about either character because that denigrates the wonderful subtleties that make this scene such great, great drama. I *do* think Methos is a manipulator, but that most of his manipulations are done on the fly, because they amuse him, and especially amuse him when his manipulations have unexpected results as they sometimes do with MacLeod. In my opinion, Methos gave up trying to formulate large-scale schemes when he walked away from the Horsemen, but he certainly still has all the instincts for it. As a result, when Methos physically grabs Duncan, refusing to let him walk away after the first confirmation that Methos was who Cassandra had said he was, I think it was fraught with multiple motivations. One was that he didn’t want to let Duncan go, that his friendship was something Methos truly treasured. Another was that he was angry that Duncan believed he understood when he didn’t understand at all. A third was the knowledge that he was still under an edict to kill MacLeod. If he succeeded in *really* pissing Duncan off, one of two things could happen: Duncan could challenge him, and Methos could kill him (assuming he could win that battle, but Methos isn’t known as an ‘honorable’ fighter), thereby fulfilling his promise to Kronos; or, Duncan would hate him so much that he would walk away and never speak to him again, which would also get him away from Kronos. Then, of course, Methos would have a different problem, but he could only deal with one crisis at a time. Methos couldn’t be positive of either outcome, but you combine all those urges, needs and motivations, and instinct has him grabbing MacLeod and slamming against the truck and forcing Duncan to understand just how alien, how ugly, how very, very different he was so long ago, and watching Duncan’s face as it moves from cold anger to disgust and dismay, with a very strong dose of betrayal thrown in for good measure. Methos is both relieved and horribly grieved when Duncan says their friendship is over and walks away. On the one had, that Duncan *hadn’t* challenged him, knowing that Methos had pushed virtually every one of Duncan’s hot buttons, must’ve been a revelation about just how much Duncan had treasured their friendship, and how much Methos had just lost. On the other hand, now Methos had to deal with Kronos, having not killed MacLeod, so he had to come up with a whole new survival strategy – ergo, the re-grouping of the Horsemen. As for Duncan’s reactions, he is being pushed from so many different directions, he can hardly tell where he stands from moment to moment. For all that he had his own dark past, Duncan had never killed strictly for pleasure, and never deliberately killed innocents. His own village had been devastated and his father killed by marauders. And Cassandra was an icon from his past, a woman who had appealed to him for protection, further confusing his own sense of where his duties and responsibilities lay. So Methos reveling in his tale of killing ten thousand innocents just because he enjoyed the killing, and that Cassandra and her village were “nothing” to him, was appalling, especially coming from someone he considered a good and trusted friend, someone he could lean on, someone he could go to for advice, even if it was usually couched in sometimes-unpleasant cynicism and sarcasm. So he walked away, brimming with anger and a sense of betrayal, knowing that Methos had lied to him about Cassandra, wondering how many other things Methos had said were lies, filled with horror at Methos’ words, and with his gleeful attitude about all that death. #3: Duncan was unfair in judging Methos’ actions harshly, when he knew Darius was also had a killing past, but considered Darius practically a saint. My view: This assertion ends up on my ‘gimme a break’ list. Geez. You can argue that Darius was also a general, and that a conqueror isn’t doing so for the personal pleasure of killing individuals. But that argument is frequently met with philosophical discourse on the evils of war, etc., which I find tiresome – as though somehow because I don’t consider killing in war as evil an act as personal murder, I am de facto approving war, or that I don’t think that war itself is evil, which is absurd. But the most compelling difference between Darius and Methos is the simple fact that Darius never hid his past – and actually frequently used it as an object lesson for how *not* to live, and lived a life that was a polar opposite of what he had been. #4: At one point on various lists, someone who shall be nameless strongly argued, and there were even a few who purported to be persuaded (I think. I have blessedly forgotten most of that ‘conversation’) that Methos was the actual leader of the Horsemen and that some (unknown) momentous event occurred to elevate Kronos to the dominant member of that group. We don’t know what the momentous event was, but, according to the proponent of the theory, the evidence is clear and obvious that Methos was the original leader of the Horsemen. My view: I can’t recall all the minutiae from which this scenario was inferred, but it is patently absurd. All you have to do is watch that first scene, where the instant Kronos inquires what is going on all three men defer to Kronos, who unhesitatingly acts as Solomon, splitting the robe and declaring the rule that they all share everything. #5: Cassandra was a vengeful bitch who was utterly unreasonable and irrational in her single-minded pursuit of Methos. My view: Cassandra was a character with many possible interpretations, but I had no trouble believing that her first-death and post-death experiences were horrifying and would have left life-long scars, regardless of how long that life was. It was made clear that Methos used whatever methods were most painful to ensure her cooperation, and that he treated her as property to be used for his own benefit and pleasure. I thought her character as revealed in Prophecy was ambiguous as to whether she was a cold, manipulative predator or a fearful woman getting by as best she could. There is also ambiguity here since she pursues both Kronos and Methos even in the face of her own probable death. She can’t have hoped to win against either of them physically, so she had only her demonstrably unreliable Voice. Both Kronos and Methos were significantly older than she, had survived for thousands of years and were likely to be extraordinarily powerful. To rely totally on her Voice as her defense against them was tenuous, at best. She had to have known she was putting her life on the line – although she sure didn’t hesitate a moment to rely once again on Duncan as her defender. That she sees Methos as evil incarnate is in part a result of his own evil deeds, and in part a result of her guilt and disgust at her ultimate acquiescence and servitude to him under duress. She is blinded by both her history and her guilt. Was she irrational? Yes. Was it understandable? Completely. #6: Methos was never *really* bad, not in context of the times. Ten thousand wasn’t that many, after all, if you extrapolate out over a thousand or so years, and that’s just the way people lived way back then. My view: Hogwash. Kronos describes them as being the ultimate in evil, even for the times. Methos describes them as being living nightmares, and his use of the killing of “ten thousand” was merely metaphor for “a whole, whole, whole lot of people.” To minimize and trivialize what they were is to take away the sting of the whole episode and to paint Methos as simply a minor bad guy who eventually saw the error of his ways. Phooey on that. I want a *real* bad guy. I want a monumentally, seriously bad, bad guy who now lives with the reality of what he once was. That’s Drama! Finally, I’ve always thought Joe’s stance on Methos was utterly inconsistent with the Vengeful!Joe who strongly urged Duncan to kill John Kiernan. In that instance, it was Duncan who was gradually coming to grips with the fact that a former conscienceless murderer had not only changed, but was now trying to redeem himself. It took time, and some real soul-searching, but ultimately Duncan acknowledged that Kiernan deserved that opportunity. Joe never did. I think Joe’s initial dismissal of even the possibility that Methos might have a truly evil past was born of knowing him as Adam Pierson long before he knew him as Methos. He was unable to see that person as doing truly evil deeds, and perhaps has never grasped the true complexity inherent in living for 5,000 years. It is a very mortal reaction, as was Joe’s comparison of the acts of the Four Horsemen to his experience in Vietnam – which demonstrated that Joe was operating from as different a reality from Duncan as Duncan was from Methos. As for the overall quality of this episode, it was first-rate in all respects. Val Pelka was brilliant casting, Tracy Scoggins less so, but they were stuck with her after they had established her in “Prophecy”. I didn’t like her mostly because I felt she manipulated Duncan even more than Methos did, and to questionable ends for questionable motives, but I felt that as a character, she was interesting and effective. The flashbacks, both the one to Texas and to the Bronze Age, were wonderful. The “stick boy” who initially spots the Horsemen and dashes towards the village has achieved a small bit of notoriety, and Cassandra’s long talon-like nails have received criticism (although they tried to disguise them). Mostly, though, the atmospherics were wonderful – the power plant was dark, grim and threatening, full of sharp edges and mysterious machines, and the music matched the emotional context really well, adding to the power of the scenes. All the characters were fabulously complex, their motives unclear and their actions fraught with unforeseen consequences – just like life. <g> Of course, there is much more to come in the finale to this brilliant two-part epic. MacGeorge All episode commentaries can be found at: http://www.wordsmiths.net/MacGeorge/episodes/indexframeset.htm ------------------------------ Date: Mon, 1 Nov 2004 18:46:30 -0500 From: Heidi <heidi@bronze.lcs.mit.edu> Subject: Re: 'Best Of' Really? From: Prodipto Roy <proy@microsoft.com> [..] got the Best of Highlander DVD set. These are the episodes they used: The Gathering - First Episode. Passing of the torch from Connor to Duncan. Do people really think of `The Gathering' as one of the `Best'? While it introduced Duncan, his story, and had Connor as a guest character, Slan was so bad that it did alot to offset the good parts of the episode. The character seemed more like something from a comic book or cartoon and he was so over-acted that he just seemed silly and changed the `tone' of the episode. It's a shame that what could have been a really good episode had that for the `evil-Immortal-of-the-week'. Or do some of you actually like the character and thought it fit in? (while they had it as one of the 14 `best', I wouldn't be suprised if a fair number would count it as one of the worst if a list of those was done.) Duende - IMO the weakest of the episodes on the Best of Series That seems to get alot of mixed opinions. It seems to mostly depend on how interested in the sword aspects of the series the person in question is. =}{= (heidi@bronze.lcs.mit.edu) ------------------------------ Date: Mon, 1 Nov 2004 19:25:49 EST From: Highlandmg@aol.com Subject: Re: 'Best Of' Really? well The Gathering will always be on my top ten and is one I will always get to rewatch. I have to say it was my favote for a long time and somethimes it still is. I love how Duncan facical expressions in the kitch with Tessa and Connor. I love Tessa is this as well as well as Richie being a teenager. Mary will always love the gathering ------------------------------ Date: Mon, 1 Nov 2004 15:26:06 -1000 From: MacWestie <mac.westie@verizon.net> Subject: Re: 'Best Of' Really? > Do people really think of `The Gathering' as one of the `Best'? While > it introduced Duncan, his story, and had Connor as a guest character, > Slan was so bad that it did alot to offset the good parts of the episode. The Gathering has a special place in my heart (well, it _would_ if I had a heart). It was the first ep & started something amazing. Parts of it clearly showed the potential of both the concept & the ensemble. And, in an entertainment rarity, the potential was reached (& even exceeded in a few season 5 eps). Yes, Slan was a buffoon, the plot was shaky, & AP's take on Duncan there was frequently wooden. Doesn't matter--the ep is still something special. Same w/ the Farscape pilot ep--at times brilliant, yet laughable in some areas--but still, it was the riveting beginning of something great. I think any polling TPTB did for the "Best of" collection was largely a formality. Certain eps were sure to be included just because they afforded so much room for comment & exploration in the various extras the set offered. Duende, for instance, had an odd genesis & included both AP's flamenco dancing & the unique sword style--lots to talk about & demonstrate there in the extras. Studies in Light, on the other hand--a nice show but not offering much to explore in the extras for this set. The eps used weren't so much the best (in the sense of favorites) of the series as they were landmark episodes--& surely the pilot ep is a must-have in that category. Nina mac.westie@verizon.net ------------------------------ End of HIGHLA-L Digest - 30 Oct 2004 to 1 Nov 2004 (#2004-200) **************************************************************