Musings

I returned from Maryland a few days ago and got right back to work on TMGS. I've finished my last play-through and have already handled most of the issues I noted. There are a few left, including a couple rather serious ones. For example, there was a bug I found by handling quests in a different order from what I originally envisioned; a needed character for one sidequest leaves at a certain point in the core path making the sidequest unworkable. That's pretty much a "DUH!" moment, but it's amazing how blind you can be when you're so used to thinking about the adventure in a certain way. It's easily correctable, though I will need a bit of time to implement the change.

Still, overall I was very pleased with how polished it was. Release is getting closer all the time.

Thomas Cromwell

One thing that my trip to Maryland did for me, though, was that it forced me away from the computer and therefore made room for me to churn through some of the books I've been meaning to get to. Actually, I got through one book: "Thomas Cromwell: The Rise and Fall of Henry VIII's Most Notorious Minister" by Robert Hutchinson.

I can't remember where I saw the comment now that caused me to buy the book, but in the back of my mind, I had the impression that one of the author's ideas was to present a case for Cromwell being much more active in Anne Boleyn's downfall than is generally accepted. Having read the book, I don't really see that as his case; he pretty much took the standard line on the subject... to the extent that Anne even featured in the book, that is.

My biggest gripe is that the author didn't seem to know what he wanted to do. As a quick explanation, there are two extremes to historical writing, either of which is valid and useful. On the one hand, you can write for a professional audience, in which case you present a clear, logical case with copious notes and well-documented sources for any argument you present, no matter how small. The only things that are not documented are facts so universally accepted as to not be in dispute. This type of book is tedious for any but the most interested reader.

The other extreme is what is sometimes referred to as "popular history," in which the author uses notes sparingly or not at all. Often, these are written almost as a narrative or story designed to hold the attention of a reader who is potentially only mildly interested. In the latter, the book is written for a reader who will mostly assume that the author is a superior authority on the subject and so will just accept what is written as true. In the former, the audience is likely not to consider the author a superior authority on the subject and will need convincing if they are to agree with a view different from the one they already hold.

With the book in question, however, the author seemed to jump back and forth a bit too much for my preference, though he obviously tried more for the former style than the latter. As such, it's hard for me to recommend the book to a serious scholar and impossible for me to recommend for those merely interested.

"Thomas Cromwell" is certainly negative in tenor towards Cromwell, as could be gleaned from the title. This is another big sign that the author isn't entirely interested in an academic treatise, as he has no problem interjecting his opinion of the man. Oddly, however, the epilogue then credits him with several useful and even positive changes in English government. These include reformation of the tax system and a curbing of some government abuses, though the author points out that this did not extend to Cromwell himself. Indeed, Hutchinson claims that Cromwell so enriched himself, both legitimately and illegitimately, that by the end of his life he was the third richest man in England after only Henry himself and the Duke of Norfolk. (Incidentally, if the claim is true, then that would make him wealthier even than Suffolk, which would be quite the accomplishment.)

What I do find interesting is that this book seems to be one of a recent slew of offerings on the subject of Thomas Cromwell, which leads me to believe he is drawing increased interest lately. It might make an interesting juxtaposition with another recent publication, "The Rise and Fall of Thomas Cromwell: Henry VIII's Most Faithful Servant." The strange parallel in the titles, publication dates, and even the similarity of the covers make it look like two neighbors got together and decided to have a sort of mini-debate in the presses.

Celebrating 100 Posts, 33 Years, and 2 Seasons of Tudors

My login screen for this blog says this will be my 100th post. Do I win anything? No?

As it so happens, this is also three days before my 33rd birthday, and I don't think I'll post again before then, so do I win anything? No?

Oh, well, then I guess I'll finally give my thoughts on the second season of the Tudors.

The story of Henry VIII and his first two wives is well-known with several television serials and movies depicting the events as far back as televisions and movies were around. Season 1 outlines the first half of these events while season 2 of the Tudors depicts the second half of these events, roughly the period between 1533 and 1536, which saw Anne Boleyn fall from her pinnacle to her ultimate demise. In a way, the two seasons mirror each other with each concerning itself with the downfall of one queen and the rise of another, and the series even draws attention to this by making the final scene of the season, in which Henry begins feasting on a large meal, an intentional duplicate of a scene in Season 1.

However, whereas the first season covered a far greater amount of time, the second season actually felt more unevenly paced. The most jarring example is episode three, which began with the announcement of Anne's pregnancy and ended with the birth of the future Elizabeth I. That's nine months in one episode while the full ten episodes covered three years. The final episode, on the other hand, covers only a couple days. It's a minor quibble, I suppose; the argument can always be made that Anne's last couple days were far more interesting than the nine months of her first pregnancy and so deserved more attention. But I can honestly say I noticed the difference in pacing, and it created a certain unevenness to the flow. Of course, I also watched all ten episodes in about two weeks, a rate at which the series was not originally intended to be viewed, so take the criticism with a grain of salt.

Several performances were noteworthy this season. The first is James Frain as Thomas Cromwell. Back in my season 1 review, I glossed over Cromwell, saying that this would be the season he came to the fore. Now that he is front-and-center, I am happy to see a calm, reasoned approach to the character while still maintaining an undercurrent of zealotry. Frain portrays a man who carefully guards his words and has tremendous control over his emotions. When Anne lambasts him for siphoning off too much of the money from the dissolution of the monasteries into the royal treasury, he simply bows and says nothing before being dismissed. When she outright threatens to have his head removed, he similarly keeps his composure. Yet underneath it all is a shrewd, calculating, and merciless intellect. He is among the first to determine that Anne's influence is collapsing. In earlier episodes, Anne has forced the removal of Queen Catherine from the royal court and played a major role in the executions of Bishop Fisher and Thomas More, but when Chapuys asks Cromwell whether he is afraid of Anne's threats, he simply snickers and replies, "not at all."

But, most deliciously, underneath this calm exterior, Cromwell is utterly ruthless. Mere days after imporing Thomas More to take the oath that would save his life, Cromwell engages Richard Rich to entrap him and provide false testimony against him before the tribunal. Later, Cromwell willingly engages in the torture of Mark Smeaton to gain the confession required to convict Anne. When asked by someone (Thomas Boleyn, I believe?) about his religious views, he replies with something akin to, "I seek nothing less than the total destruction of the Catholic Church." Indeed, he can in one minute smile to the face of a man like More, who will shortly be martyred for the Catholic Church, and implore him to save his own life, and in the next excoriate him before the tribunal for "papal worship and heretical idolatry." Finally, when Anne's last true ally, Thomas Cranmer, comes to him to determine what can be done to save her (and as he sees it, the Reformation in England), Cromwell simply counsels him that, "sometimes people need to be sacrificed to achieve the greater good."

All-in-all, Frain's performance is a thing of beauty and worthy of three paragraphs in this review. I simply can't wait to see where he goes in season three, which reportedly takes the history all the way to the rise of Catherine Howard. If this is true, then I'm betting the final scene will be the execution of Cromwell, and it will be interesting to see how Frain handles his fall from grace.

However, as good as Cromwell is, season two is really Anne Boleyn's, and Natalie Dormer also does a fantastic job, even upstaging Frain at most points. Anne is a reasonably complex and slightly controversial historical figure with nearly as many takes on her as there are books about her. Previously, Genevieve Bujold portrayed her as a raving bitch in Anne of the Thousand Days and Natalie Portman focused exclusively on the increasingly manic side of her character in The Other Boleyn Girl. And while I think both are valid portrayals and reasonably true as far as they go, the increased scope of an entire series over a film and a larger cast of included characters allows Dormer to give Boleyn a better historical context and further flesh out the character into a full three dimensions.

When the season begins, Anne is at the height of her power. She holds the king in the palm of her hand, and she is at the center of a broad, if loosely-aligned, anti-Wolsey coalition that had formed to bring about the downfall of the powerful chancellor. Slowly, however, the same scheming that brought about Wolsey's downfall begins to work against the new power behind the king, Anne herself. Realizing that the king is fickle in his affections, both for advisors and women alike, her one-time allies - Suffolk, Cromwell, and even her own father - begin to break away from her, causing her to become ever-more isolated and dependent only on the king's affections for her survival. While she probably never would be able to stop his womanizing, she'd guarantee her place at court forever if she would just give the king what he most desired, a son. After all, he would never risk delegitimizing a male heir by formally casting aside its mother. But with the birth of a single girl followed by two miscarriages, time began to run out for Anne, for once Jane Seymour had caught Henry's eye, it was all-too-easy to convince him that Anne should go.

Anne, of course, was not a stupid woman. She had to have realized - too late - that the position for which she had so long fought was, in actuality, a gilded prison from which she would never escape. Thus, it's the portrayal of this realization that always proves interesting, hence the multiple "valid" portrayals I referenced earlier. With a full ten hours to show the decline, however, Dormer captures them all. One moment, Anne's threatening Cromwell. In the next, she's paranoid of Suffolk's relationship with the king. In the next, she implores Henry to come back to her bed. There is immense relief when she finds herself pregnant again followed by extreme anguish when she miscarries. She attacks Henry when she finds him kissing Jane Seymour only to immediately remind him how much she loves him. The entire swirl of emotions released by Dormer show a woman in extreme emotional turmoil, uncertain of where to turn to avoid the yawning abyss in front of her.

Her finest moment comes in the final episodes when the end is clear. Confined to the Tower, she has finally resigned herself to her fate. Dormer elegantly shows a woman both relieved to finally be free of the drama while also being understandably frightened of what lies before her. The entire scene is well-acted and a fitting end to the season.

No one else stands out as worthy of especial attention, though no one was attrocious either. Rhys-Meyers as Henry VIII is even, though no further range of performance should be expected. He falls in and out of "love" with women and plays the tyrant quite well, and that's what we should expect more of from him in the future. Henry Cavill as Suffolk plays the loyal friend well enough, and at least his character showed a bit of maturation this past year. Maria Doyle Kennedy was one of the show-stealers last season but had significantly less to do this year. Nick Dunning as Thomas Boleyn was the scheming ass-hat who eventually abandoned even his son and daughter to their fate. It's accurate and the common interpretation, but it doesn't really call for terrific range from an actor. Honestly, I couldn't get into Jeremy Northam as Thomas More all that much, but I think that's because I'm tired of the sanctimonious portrayal of More. That said, I'm at a loss as to how I would do it better, and at least, there was a bit of texture in that More was shown to legitimately be conducting business that could be seen as detrimental to the king and therefore treasonous. Anita Briem as Jane Seymour was a bit milquetoast, but that's a common portrayal, and she's being replaced in season three, so I won't waste further space on her. The rest of the characters were too minor to matter.

Again, the other production values were excellent. The costuming and scenery were sumptuous and the music was suitably majestic when called for but mostly blended well into the background, which is a good thing. The pacing, as mentioned earlier, seemed a bit off at times, but other than that nitpick, I thought the directing and writing were quite good.

Other than one exception, which I'll get to in the next paragraph, I also thought the history was pretty good. Again, there's room for some interpretation of the events depicted, but the series followed - for the most part - the predominant line of thinking articulated most notably by Eric Ives, perhaps the preeminent current Anne Boleyn historian. Given that it's a drama intended for entertainment, only a nitwit would argue with that approach. In addition, I was pleased at some of the small details that the series showed that were absolutely true. For example, there's a nice scene where Chapuys visits the princess Mary that illustrates the close friendship the two would develop. In another scene, Chapuys tells Suffolk that Catherine's heart, examined after her death, was blackened, and he therefore suspected Anne had had her poisoned. (After this line, my wife turned to me and asked, "is that true?" Yes, it is.) In fact, Catherine's heart had turned black, and poison was therefore suspected. However, the modern belief is that the blackened part was actually a cancerous tumor that had caused Catherine's death. Another scene shows the start of the rumor that Anne had six fingers, or at least the beginnings of a growth of a sixth finger, and she was therefore a witch. This rumor did pass around for a number of years, and even now, I see the occasional article or book that still seems to accept it as true. Both Thomas More's and Anne's deaths were well-depicted right down to the last statements largely taken from the actual recorded last statements of both. Anne's execution being delayed a day was true, as was her quip to the Constable of the Tower that she had "heard say the executioner was very good, and I have a little neck."

However, I have to call the series to task for the portrayal of William Brereton. The series portrayed him as a zealot working for the Catholic Church and willing to be martyred to bring down the queen. He was the guy who tried to assassinate Anne during her coronation procession and then willingly confessed to an affair with her so that he could ensure her execution. This portrayal is so counter to history that I can't even correct it in short order except to say it's crap. Furthermore, I can't see any special reason for making such a change, seeing as how the actual story was juicy enough. I've gone on long enough that I won't bore you with the truth about Brereton, but you can find it at Wikipedia if you are interested.

So overall, the second season maintained the same high level of quality as the first. I eagerly await season three, though I do find myself wondering how it will be received by the public. We are now entering a period that, while turbulent, is not nearly as well-known. Whereas season two stayed almost entirely within England, I suspect season three will concentrate much more on foreign affairs to maintain an interesting narrative, notwithstanding the need to run through queens three and four and get to number five. So we'll have Jane's reign and death, further squabbling with the Acts of Succession, instability within the Holy Roman Empire, the debacle surrounding Anne of Cleves, the rise of the Howards, and the fall of Cromwell. Should be good.

Moving On...

I've just finished the second season of the Tudors, which I'll review after a few days of collecting my thoughts. However, my opinion of it is very positive. Until later...

Load Screen Sunday... Yeah, Whatever
I'm going to go ahead and throw out the last three new load screens for Act II. I think versions of all of these have been released before, but these might be new angles. The first is of a nice serene little hut in the forest. Ah, so peaceful... until you realize what sick evil lies within.

Second, is a little mountain village with a serene little river running through it. It's the simple tribal life... until you realize the horrific secret it hides.

Finally, a fort... Ah, who am I kidding? It looks a bit too military to try to convince you it's benign. Yeah, evil guys aplenty here.

So What Progress, You Ask?
I am essentially done with the scripting of the various dialogs, and I am done with the OnEnter scripts for all the areas. I managed to uncover about eight major issues I needed to address during my scripting work thus far, and I took time this weekend to whittle that list down to three. These include things like writing additional dialogs or writing major additions or amendments to existing ones.

When these are done, I have the following general tasks to complete: scripting the journal entries (updating, etc.), finalizing a few extraneous quest scripts (death scripts, inventory disturb scripts, and the like), loot placement, and XP placement. With any luck, that will finish the Act II scripting, and I'll proceed to testing.

Act II testing should take a short while, and I need to finish my tweaking of Act III (whenever patch 1.22 is released to fix the OnEnter area triggers), and then there's the testing of the full three acts stuck together to ensure global variables are stored correctly... Lots to do, but I'm getting there.

Load Screen... Not Today

Another two weeks... still a lack of updates. This time, however, it has not been for lack of progress. I've actually worked quite a bit and have often found myself choosing module-building over blog-updating. I guess I just wary of updates that are nothing more than reporting my new percentage completion.

But since I mentioned it, I am now just over 75% done with the dialog scripting, and I have completed all of the OnEnter scripts, some of which are a bit on the complex side. The village of Navatranaasu is supposed to have a population of around 120, but you won't meet most of them. There are 19 individual characters (as of right now) that come and go and have daily cycles, so they won't always be available to talk. Some are major and some are minor, but these represent the core that is necessary to solve the mystery of the village. When this core is fully tested, I may add another few ambient characters to provide a bit of flavor and increase the sense of "business" about the place.

So There's This Article...
I have also managed to finish the first season of Rome. I've been collecting my thoughts, but a review is coming shortly. Indeed, it needs to, because I just got my CDs for the second season of The Tudors, and I'm already through the 3rd (of 10) episodes.

Anyway, I was Googling The Tudors out of general interest, and I stumbled across the following article from 2007. I mention it here because both it and the readers' comments are the type of thing that generally piss me off. OK, so yes, it's the Daily Mail, and that should be my first clue to not take it seriously, but nevertheless... The title says it all: "Henry VIII: The glaring errors in BBC's sexed-up, dumbed-down Tudors."

The criticisms, both in the article and the accompanying comments, generally fall into two categories. First, there is gratuitous sex. Second, there are historical inaccuracies. Taken together, this equates to "dumbed down." Where to start?

First, yes, there is sex in The Tudors, but is it gratuitous? I suppose that's a matter of preference. On the extreme position, I could argue that any sex scene is gratuitous, as there are always ways to imply what is happening without explicitly showing it. I would also note that the sex shown in The Tudors pales in comparison to that shown in Rome. I could also argue that I'm pretty sure they did have actual sex back then, as the human race somehow survived to the present. But none of that matters if it crosses the viewer's threshold. All I can say is that it didn't cross my threshold, though I would advise those who are more sensitive to take caution.

The second criticism is more interesting to me. I noted in my review of season one that there were definitely inaccuracies but that the essence of the story was true. This was in stark contrast to a quote in the article from a "Tudor biographer" that stated that the essence was not true, so I read further to see exactly what inaccuracies so bothered the quoted authorities. The following is a summary of the main bones of contention I found.

Modern radiators, Tarmac driveways, concrete bollards and Victorian carriages have all made appearances in the tenpart series set in the 16th century.

The characters talk in completely unnatural ways, addressing their own family members as "Anne Boleyn" or "Mary Boleyn" so that we, the stupid audience, understand who they're supposed to be.

Henry VIII was exceedingly powerful, both politically and physically, but Rhys Meyers is pretty, rather than macho and thus completely unconvincing.

Henry had red hair, not black hair as this actor has...

Henry was a very discreet king; he would never have indulged in womanising openly. While he may have liked the ladies he would never have been so indiscreet - that is why there is so little evidence of his affairs.

Let's nail these one-by-one. First, yes, the series has made the choice to give the Tudors a distinctly anachronistic tone by using props more suitable to the 17th century instead of the 16th. This was made clear in an article about clothing, and it obviously is true for other items as well. By the way, some of the guns used are completely inaccurate too. I don't know that I agree with the artistic choice, but I don't see how stupid things like the carriage suspension system leads to a charge of "dumbing down" or how using the correct carriage would be so much more interesting.

Second, I remember one time that Anne Boleyn's father referred to her as "Anne Boleyn" when talking directly to her, and it did seem slightly awkward to me at the time, but I didn't notice it as a general rule. One time in ten hours is hardly cause for concern in my estimation.

I agree that Jonathan Rhys Meyers is completely miscast, at least physically, as Henry VIII. Not only is he too young for the events depicted, but he doesn't bear a resemblance to Henry at any time in his life. I have to believe that there's an actor somewhere in the U.K. that could have been a better fit, but again, does Rhys Meyers really cause that much angst?

Finally, the subject of Henry's discretion. At least this finally gets to something of his characterisation and so has a little weight to it. I also note that this criticism is made by Alison Weir, who actually is a name of note, though she is not without her own critics. However, we know of at least two mistresses of Henry's: Bessie Blount and Mary Boleyn, and this doesn't count mistresses who later became wives. Second, the series doesn't exactly show him cavorting in the open. At most, the series shows his friend, Charles Brandon, with knowledge of his affairs and maybe one or two others. Having the secrets known by a few members of the court hardly qualifies as indiscretion.

So I'm a bit perplexed. There are certainly inaccuracies in the series, some of which I noted in my review, but of all of them, why concentrate on such trivial details? The concrete paving, red hair, and supposedly open sexual liaisons? This is what incenses the "authorities?" How about the curiously compressed timeline? How about Henry's two sisters being merged into one person? Isn't there anything more meaty you can be upset by?

Some of the comments are equally funny. At least a couple viewers noted the problem with Henry's sister(s) and how the series shows her marrying the Portuguese king (she didn't), but others obsessed about the clothing, lack of red hair, and a generic lack of historical accuracy.

OK, enough. My point is that all of this criticism smacks of something that really irritates me about the historical profession: namely that anything that's not an outright documentary doesn't "ring true." If it's made to be entertaining, then it's dumb, cheap, or otherwise suitable only for the great unwashed who are too stupid to understand the truth. The whole thing smacks of elitism and the need for some to demonstrate how much better they are than others because they "get it" and we ignorant brutes don't. As many here know, I'm slowly working on my masters in history, and unfortunately, I get a lot of that attitude around some of my fellow class-mates. I guess it allows them to feel important in a world in which they're going to make minimum wage when they get out because they stupidly got a degree that private enterprise doesn't especially prize. Oh, I'm sorry. Was that snarky?

The real merit in a drama like The Tudors isn't that it examines the period from every possible angle. It's that it presents the material in an interesting way that both educates the viewer and might cause them to go ask someone more knowledgeable or do further research on their own if they really become interested - sort of like a gateway drug, but for history. In the end, they may not be Tudor experts, but they'll certainly know more than when they started.

In short, I've seen precious little in the noted criticisms that I would classify as substantial, and I stand by my earlier statement that the first season of The Tudors did actually "ring true." I'll see if I also think that about the second season after I've watched the whole series.

The Tudors

OK, so following Michele aka Liso's recommendation during my NWN Podcast interview a couple months back, I picked up the first season DVDs of the Tudors and finally finished the ten episodes this weekend... just in time to scrounge around for season two I guess. When I first heard about it, I was dubious to say the least, but the show turned out to be quite impressive. It actually managed to hold my interest (i.e. someone who knows quite a bit about the subject) while also holding my wife's interest (i.e. someone who's interested but not interested enough to read a book about it).

I was pleased to see that the show concentrated on the broad picture of what was happening. Too often in movies on the subject - the two most notable examples being Anne of theThousand Days and The Other Boleyn Girl - focus almost exclusively on Henry's and Anne's relationship. Other major characters, such as Cardinal Wolsey, Thomas More, and Catherine of Aragon, are relegated to caricatures focusing on their perceived principle trait: Wolsey is either conniving, corrupt, or (in this matter) ineffective, More is sanctimonious and conscientious, and Catherine is frumpy and resigned. Other characters, such as Francis I of France, Charles V of Spain, or Pope Clement VII, are obliquely referred to or not mentioned at all. Still others, such as Charles Brandon, Bessie Blount, or Thomas Howard, Duke of Norfolk, are not seen period. And yet all these people - not just Henry and Anne - played a role in the great drama that unfolded between about 1530 and 1533, and The Tudors does a good job of showing how they all fit together. I think anyone watching would come away with a solid understanding of the period.

Two performances I was especially taken with are Sam Neill's Cardinal Wolsey and Maria Doyle Kennedy's Catherine of Aragon. I was not initially taken with Neill in the role of Wolsey; I simply kept imagining him running away from a Tyrannosaurus Rex, but I was eventually brought over. Neill showed that he is a terrific actor, as he deftly depicts the Cardinal's slow fall from power. In one moment he is terrified, the next he is desperate, and then his arrogance resurfaces. The moment where Henry first accuses the Cardinal of working against him particularly stands out, as Wolsey collapses to his knees in terror, desperate to assure the King that he is his loyal servant. Care was also taken in some of the dialogue. The line uttered as he is finally dragged away by the guards to be taken to London: "If I had served my God as dilligently as I did my king, he would not have abandoned me in my grey hairs," was actually said to be one of Wolsey's last words (if not his last).

Maria Doyle Kennedy puts in the second surprise performance. Far from the matronly cast-off Catherine is normally portrayed as, Kennedy comes across as classy, elegant, and assured. Her plea to Henry on bended knees during the trial followed by her dramatic exit from the chamber is both historically accurate and fantastically used to demonstrate her sharp mind, quick wit, and political acumen. Yet it is not just a game to her; rather, she is firmly convinced that, in time, Henry will see his folly, tire of Anne, and return to her. Her facial expressions in the scene towards the end when she tries to convince Henry (for the hundreth time) that she was a virgin at the time of their marriage and Henry turns to her and essentially says "yes, and so what?" was especially poignant. She finally realizes that Henry knows she is telling the truth, but the whole matter isn't really about that... and therefore Henry will never be coming back.

So these two actually became complete characters in The Tudors. Others, such as Charles Brandon... well, I guess I should be happy he's there at all. I'm less than enamored with Henry Caville's acting. Nick Dunning's Thomas Boleyn fares little better. Jeremy Northam's Thomas More dangerously flirts with the traditional sanctimonious portrayal, but the harsher aspect brought forth in the final episode as he starts the burning of heretics - an unfortunate event that would continue for the next forty or so years - adds some additional color to the character. James Frain's Thomas Cromwell shows initial promise as a double-crossing zealot, but Cromwell will really only rise to the fore during the events depicted next season, so I'll reserve judgment until then.

So now we get to the principles: Henry and Anne. As with Wolsey, I was not at all optimistic with either of these two. Natalie Dormer could reasonably pass for Anne physically, I guess. She was never supposed to be a great beauty; Anne's allure was (according to contemporaries) in her personality and slightly exotic look. I guess I don't see any of those qualities in Dormer, but it's a matter of personal preference. Jonathan Rhys Meyers is simply too young to depict Henry accurately during these years. The show claims to want to show Henry as a young man, but he was over 40 at the time of his divorce from Catherine. Nevertheless, both Rhys Meyers and Dormer do justice to their subjects as well as they can. Henry's unbounded energy and ambition, his notorious fickleness, and his horrific temper are well-depicted, and Dormer has softened Anne's traditional conniving qualities significantly, adding a new layer to the character, though she's picking up steam as the season progresses. As with Cromwell, the events of next season are where Anne's going to get really interesting, and it will be then that Dormer either puts her stamp on the role or else falls flat on her face.

The production values are also all very high. The costumes are brilliant, though one of the DVD extras indicates that some of them are slightly anachronistic. However, this kind of detail is not something I'd catch; I'll just take their word for it, but they look fantastic. The scenery,both indoors and outdoors is generally supurb, and the music is both dignified and understated for the most part.

So how was the historical accuracy? Well, readers will probably not be surprised at this point to see that I was quite pleased at just how historically accurate the series is. That's not to say there weren't certain errors, but there was an awful lot of truth there. Most of the errors, with a few exceptions outlined below, fall into the category of improper timing. As already stated, Henry should have been about 40 during the climactic events of season one. Also, his daughter by Catherine of Aragon, Mary, was 16 or so. Henry Fitzroy, Henry VIII's illegitimate son by Bessie Blount, did die of the sweating sickness, but he was 17 when it happened, not 4 or so as depicted here. The Field of Cloth of Gold festival, which seems to be only a year or so before Henry's divorce, was actually more than fifteen years prior. And there are many others, but these kinds of errors are inconsequential because the essence of the events are still true. Namely, there was a Field of Cloth of Gold festival that went more or less as depicted, Henry Fitzroy was an illegitimate son by Bessie Blount, he did die of sweating sickness as mentioned, and so forth.

Slightly more problematic are the following substantive disagreements with history.

• The Duke of Buckingham actually was beheaded, ostensibly for treason, but the charges are historically regarded as being largely trumped-up while the series shows the charges as being true. Also, the rivalry between Buckingham and Henry is probably overplayed by a couple orders of magnitude; I seriously doubt that Buckingham ever thought he should be king over Henry, though he probably thought he was next in line in case anything happened.
• Henry had two sisters: Margaret and Mary. The series only shows one. They use the name Margaret but the events in her life are mostly those of Mary, though Mary married the aged King of France and not Portugal. In another of those timeline errors, the French King she married was actually the predecessor (and cousin I believe) of the French King depicted in the series.
• Cardinal Wolsey most definitely did not commit suicide. He had been sick for some time and died of natural causes en-route to London after having been arrested near York.

But I admit that most of these are nitpicks. To be sure, I would definitely recommend The Tudors to anyone who's a fan of the subject matter.